Feeling that it was about time I said something, I got as far as ‘I -‘, but he shushed me with another of those impassioned gestures. I couldn’t remember when I’d met anyone so resolved on hogging the conversation.
‘No doubt you will say that your love was so overpowering that you could not resist the urge to tell her of it and plead with her. Utter nonsense. Despicable weakness. Let me tell you, Wooster, that I have loved that girl for years and years, but never by word or look have I so much as hinted it to her. It was a great shock to me when she became engaged to this man Fink-Nottle, but I accepted the situation because I thought that that was where her happiness lay. Though stunned, I kept -‘
‘A stiff upper lip?’
‘- my feelings to myself. I sat -‘
‘Like Patience on a monument.’
‘- tight, and said nothing that would give her a suspicion of how I felt. All that mattered was that she should be happy. If you ask me if I approve of Fink-Nottle as a husband for her, I admit frankly that I do not. To me he seems to possess all the qualities that go to make the perfect pill, and I may add that my opinion is shared by her father. But he is the man she has chosen and I abide by her choice. I do not crawl behind Fink-Nottle’s back and try to prejudice her against him.’
‘Very creditable.’
‘What did you say?’
I said I had said it did him credit. Very white of him, I said I thought it.
‘Oh? Well, I suggest to you, Wooster, that you follow my example. And let me tell you that I shall be watching you closely, and I shall expect to see less of this head-stroking you were doing when I came in. If I don’t, I’ll -‘
Just what he proposed to do he did not reveal, though I was able to hazard a guess, for at this moment Madeline returned. Her eyes were pinkish and her general aspect down among the wines and spirits. ‘I will show you your room, Bertie,’ she said in a pale, saintlike voice, and Spode gave me a warning look. ‘Be careful, Wooster, be very careful,’ he said as we went out. Madeline seemed surprised. ‘Why did Roderick tell you to be careful?’
‘Ah, that we shall never know. Afraid I might slip on the parquet floor, do you think?’
‘He sounded as if he was angry with you. Had you been quarrelling?’
‘Good heavens, no. Our talk was conducted throughout in an atmosphere of the utmost cordiality.’
‘I thought he might be annoyed at your coming here.’
‘On the contrary. Nothing could have exceeded the warmth of his “Welcome to Totleigh Towers”.’
‘I’m so glad. It would pain me so much if you and he were . . . Oh, there’s Daddy.’
We had reached the upstairs corridor, and Sir Watkyn Bassett was emerging from his room, humming a light air. It died on his lips as he saw me, and he stood staring at me aghast. He reminded me of one of those fellows who spend the night in haunted houses and are found next morning dead to the last drop with a look of awful horror on their faces.
‘Oh, Daddy,’ said Madeline. ‘I forgot to tell you. I asked Bertie to come here for a few days.’ Pop Bassett swallowed painfully.
‘When you say a few days – ?’
‘At least a week, I hope.’
‘Good God!’
‘If not longer.’
‘Great heavens!’
‘There is tea in the drawing-room, Daddy.’
‘I need something stronger than tea,’ said Pop Bassett in a low, husky voice, and he tottered off, a broken man. The sight of his head disappearing as he made for the lower regions where the snootful awaited him brought to my mind a poem I used to read as a child. I’ve forgotten most of it, but it was about a storm at sea and the punch line ran “We are lost,” the captain shouted, as he staggered down the stairs.’
‘Daddy seems upset about something,’ said Madeline.