P G Wodehouse – Piccadilly Jim

And now, suddenly and unaccountably, the means was at hand for restoring her to her tranquil self-esteem. Jimmy Crocker, despite what his stepmother had said, probably in active defiance of her commands, had come to America after all. Mr. Pett’s first thought was that his wife would, as he expressed it to himself, be “tickled to death about this.” Scarcely waiting for the office-boy to retire, he leaped towards Jimmy like a gambolling lamb and slapped him on the back with every evidence of joy and friendliness.

“My dear boy!” he cried. “My dear boy! I’m delighted to see you!”

Jimmy was surprised, relieved, and pleased. He had not expected this warmth. A civil coldness had been the best he had looked for. He had been given to understand that in the Pett home he was regarded as the black sheep: and, while one may admit a black sheep into the fold, it does not follow that one must of necessity fawn upon him.

“You’re very kind,” he said, rather startled.

They inspected each other for a brief moment. Mr. Pett was thinking that Jimmy was a great improvement on the picture his imagination had drawn of him. He had looked for something tougher, something flashy and bloated. Jimmy, for his part, had taken an instant liking to the financier. He, too, had been misled by imagination. He had always supposed that these millionaires down Wall Street way were keen, aggressive fellows, with gimlet eyes and sharp tongues. On the boat he had only seen Mr. Pett from afar, and had had no means of estimating his character. He found him an agreeable little man.

“We had given up all hope of your coming,” said Mr. Pett.

A little manly penitence seemed to Jimmy to be in order.

“I never expected you would receive me like this. I thought I must have made myself rather unpopular.”

Mr. Pett buried the past with a gesture.

“When did you land?” he asked.

“This morning. On the -Caronia-…”

“Good passage?”

“Excellent.”

There was a silence. It seemed to Jimmy that Mr. Pett was looking at him rather more closely than was necessary for the actual enjoyment of his style of beauty. He was just about to throw out some light remark about the health of Mrs. Pett or something about porpoises on the voyage to add local colour and verisimilitude, when his heart missed a beat, as he perceived that he had made a blunder. Like many other amateur plotters, Ann and he had made the mistake of being too elaborate. It had struck them as an ingenious idea for Jimmy to pretend that he had arrived that morning, and superficially it was a good idea: but he now remembered for the first time that, if he had seen Mr. Pett on the -Atlantic-, the probability was that Mr. Pett had seen him. The next moment the other had confirmed this suspicion.

“I’ve an idea I’ve seen you before. Can’t think where.”

“Everybody well at home?” said Jimmy.

“I’m sure of it.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing them all.”

“I’ve seen you some place.”

“I’m often there.”

“Eh?”

Mr. Pett seemed to be turning this remark over in his mind a trifle suspiciously. Jimmy changed the subject.

“To a young man like myself,” he said, “with life opening out before him, there is something singularly stimulating in the sight of a modern office. How busy those fellows seem!”

“Yes,” said Mr. Pett. “Yes.” He was glad that this conversational note had been struck. He was anxious to discuss the future with this young man.

“Everybody works but father!” said Jimmy.

Mr. Pett started.

“Eh?”

“Nothing.”

Mr. Pett was vaguely ruffled. He suspected insult, but could not pin it down. He abandoned his cheeriness, however, and became the man of business.

“I hope you intend to settle down, now that you are here, and work hard,” he said in the voice which he vainly tried to use on Ogden at home.

“Work!” said Jimmy blankly.

“I shall be able to make a place for you in my office. That was my promise to your step-mother, and I shall fulfil it.”

“But wait a minute! I don’t get this! Do you mean to put me to work?”

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