THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY BY P.G. WODEHOUSE

But the eyes that met his were those of a child.

As they stood there, the horse, which had been cropping in a

perfunctory manner at the short grass by the roadside, raised its

head, and neighed impatiently. There was something so human about

the performance that Jimmy and the girl laughed simultaneously. The

utter materialism of the neigh broke the spell. It was a noisy

demand for food.

“Poor Dandy!” said Molly. “He knows he’s near home, and he knows

it’s his dinner-time.”

“Are we near the castle, then?”

“It’s a long way round by the road, but we can cut across the

fields. Aren’t these English fields and hedges just perfect! I love

them. Of course, I loved America, but–”

“Have you left New York long?” asked Jimmy.

“We came over here about a month after you were at our house.”

“You didn’t spend much time there, then.”

“Father had just made a good deal of money in Wall Street. He must

have been making it when I was on the Lusitania. He wanted to leave

New York, so we didn’t wait. We were in London all the winter. Then,

we went over to Paris. It was there we met Sir Thomas Blunt and Lady

Julia. Have you met them? They are Lord Dreever’s uncle and aunt.”

“I’ve met Lady Julia.”

“Do you like her?”

Jimmy hesitated.

“Well, you see–”

“I know. She’s your hostess, but you haven’t started your visit yet.

So, you’ve just got time to say what you really think of her, before

you have to pretend she’s perfect.”

“Well–”

“I detest her,” said Molly, crisply. “I think she’s hard and

hateful.”

“Well, I can’t say she struck me as a sort of female Cheeryble

Brother. Lord Dreever introduced me to her at the station. She

seemed to bear it pluckily, but with some difficulty.”

“She’s hateful,” repeated Molly. “So is he, Sir Thomas, I mean. He’s

one of those fussy, bullying little men. They both bully poor Lord

Dreever till I wonder he doesn’t rebel. They treat him like a

school-boy. It makes me wild. It’s such a shame–he’s so nice and

good-natured! I am so sorry for him!”

Jimmy listened to this outburst with mixed feelings. It was sweet of

her to be so sympathetic, but was it merely sympathy? There had been

a ring in her voice and a flush on her cheek that had suggested to

Jimmy’s sensitive mind a personal interest in the down-trodden peer.

Reason told him that it was foolish to be jealous of Lord Dreever, a

good fellow, of course, but not to be taken seriously. The primitive

man in him, on the other hand, made him hate all Molly’s male

friends with an unreasoning hatred. Not that he hated Lord Dreever:

he liked him. But he doubted if he could go on liking him for long

if Molly were to continue in this sympathetic strain.

His affection for the absent one was not put to the test. Molly’s

next remark had to do with Sir Thomas.

“The worst of it is,” she said, “father and Sir Thomas are such

friends. In Paris, they were always together. Father did him a very

good turn.”

“How was that?”

“It was one afternoon, just after we arrived. A man got into Lady

Julia’s room while we were all out except father. Father saw him go

into the room, and suspected something was wrong, and went in after

him. The man was trying to steal Lady Julia’s jewels. He had opened

the box where they were kept, and was actually holding her rope of

diamonds in his hand when father found him. It’s the most

magnificent thing I ever saw. Sir Thomas told father he gave a

hundred thousand dollars for it.”

“But, surely,” said Jimmy, “hadn’t the management of the hotel a

safe for valuables?”

“Of course, they had; but you don’t know Sir Thomas. He wasn’t going

to trust any hotel safe. He’s the sort of a man who insists on doing

everything in his own way, and who always imagines he can do things

better himself than anyone else can do them for him. He had had this

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