Regular Disclaimer. Also, I didn't know what Tuppy's real first name was.
So I kept his initial as 'T'. Please tell me what it is if you know.
Chapter Nineteen
It was on the morrow, when I had stepped down to the station, that I at last got contact with the outside world. I sniffed the air, and inhaled a sudden passing train. After choking for a bit, I managed to struggle over to the newspaper stand. I collected several different sheets, and on instruction from Aunt Dahlia, a copy of 'Miladys Boudoir'. Let me tell you that the shop attendant gave me a bally funny look at that one.
As I travelled back up to the house, I idly flicked through the things. I was just looking at one of them, forget which, when the page dropped open at the engagements and marriages column.
I gargled. I gurgled. I'm damn near convinced my eyes stuck out. My bottom jaw plummeted and must have got tangled up with my feet, as I was suddenly spread-eagled on the dusty road. I raised the offending item to my disbelieving eyes for one more peep.
"A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place between Mr T.Glossop and Miss E.Cooper."
I had sat up to read this, but now, with a deflated sigh, I flopped back down again, the blasted paper hanging uselessly from my limp hand. I felt like one of those chaps who are portrayed mooching around London, their ties hanging loosely, hands in pockets, with hair un-combed. I never believed there were people who felt that low until now.
Well, after a good deal of soul-searching, and staring blandly at the sky, pondering the infinite, I got up, brushed myself down, picked up the papers, and did a fair bit of mooching till I reached the abode of my good and deserving aunt.
When the front door opened, revealing the butler, he leapt like a startled fawn. He goggled at me for a time, and then grudgingly allowed me inside. I was somewhat perturbed at his manner, till catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror; I saw why he had goggled quite so much.
My hair was all over the shop, or more accurately, all over my head, sticking out at right angles in some places. My clothes were dusty, my tie was a lost cause, swaying to and fro in a sad sort of way, and one hand was in a pocket, and the other clutching what appeared to be the largest collection of scrunched newspaper ever. This, I supposed, is what you get from moping about on dusty roads.
Anyway, I staggered up to my room, and gave Jeeves the perfect opportunity for the world record in the standing high jump. What's more, he took the p.o. with both hands, and probably beat the current score by a good two foot.
I had honestly never seen the man so rattled. It amazed me that he could bear the shock of his nieces various engagements without so much as the twitch of an eyebrow, and yet, the sight of the young master after he has been moping and mooching alternately, set him right off.
His eyes went to dinner plate proportions. The mouth formed a sort of strangled cry, and the rest of his body gave an involuntary shudder, as though he had been poked by a cattle prod.
His whole aspect was that of a man who has just been bitten on various limbs by all his close relatives and friends.
"Oh, hullo Jeeves."
This finished him off. He gasped for air and vanished into a secret compartment somewhere.
I sat down on the bed, buried my face in my hands, and began a low moan.
Jeeves re-appeared, still not quite himself, but much recovered.
"Sir?"
I thrust the offending paper at him. He gave me a curious look, and then read it. His face flickered a bit, and finally settled on remorse. He set the paper down on a convenient table, before looking at me with the fatherly eye, again.
"I'm extremely sorry, sir."
I looked up at the man. He had never looked quite so sympathetic in the entire time I had known him.
"Well, it can't be helped, I suppose."
Here, Jeeves went a rather funny colour, and seemed to narrowly avoid the urge to rush out again. He looked me straight in the eyeball, and said;
"Sir. I'm afraid to say it could have been helped. I am completely to blame for this most disturbing incident."
"What?"
"Indeed, sir. I ought to have told you what I knew from the first. I have known from almost the beginning what Mr Cooper's intentions were, after hearing from Mr Glossop."
This was, in my eyes, courage. For any man to come here, stand before my grieving heart and say that lot, well, it was taking one's life in one's hands, to be honest. It was a wrench to prevent myself leaping at the man, and beating him senseless.
"Jeeves!"
"Yes, sir. Mr Cooper received a communication from Mr Glossop, proposing his engagement to Miss Cooper. Mr Cooper accepted."
I seethed a trifle. But then I recollection hit me.
"But Jeeves, why should he allow the aisle traipsing between the wonderful Emily, and the toad Glossop, but not between Emily and myself? I thought he objected to me on grounds of being a 'blood sucking aristocrat', and I have to say Mr Glossop isn't much of an improvement."
Here Jeeves looked even more remorseful. He was apparently trying very hard at the remorse. I was with him completely in this; if he didn't keep it up there was a good chance I would break his neck in a fit of grievous rage. I am not by nature, a man of sudden tempers, but this sort of soul shattering occurrence was more than enough to make me feel wronged. The feudal spirit, which had always linked Jeeves and I, had obviously been off duty for the entire time all the above business was going on.
"I must be honest, sir, and say that that was not the reason Mr Cooper objected to you. I showed him the papers which I had written about you for my club, after I had learned of yours and Miss Emily's intentions."
There followed the thickest, most unpleasant silence imaginable. Both mind and heart were in turmoil. This was too much. It really was. I gripped the edge of the bed like a vice; it was all I could do to stop myself occupying the front page of the next paper, as a murder sensation.
"MAN MURDERS OWN VALET IN MARKET SNODSBURY"
"Jeeves, I would very much like you to leave, now."
"Quite, sir."
"And don't ever, ever let yourself come anywhere near me again. I have had my fill of deceit, lies and backstabbing for one lifetime."
He began to shimmer out, but he stopped mid-shimmer, and gave me the paternal look once more.
"I truly am very sorry, sir, to have ruined yours and Miss Emily's happiness. It was not my place to do so. I apologise."
With that, he resumed his shimmer. I got up, and wobbling over to my bed- side drawer, withdrew a photo of a girl who was very likely getting sick and tired of being engaged to various fellows, with no say in the matter. I heard the door behind me open and close, as Jeeves left the room. That was that then, I felt.
I sat for some time, looking longingly at the photograph. I was disturbed in my mourning by the entrance of the houses owner. There was a 'flump' noise, as Aunt Dahlia alighted next to me.
"Bertie, I believe you've finally cracked. Jeeves has just left for the open spaces. He said something about you giving him the sack!"
I raised the heavy head. The aunt drew a startled breath. My appearance in general hadn't shocked her, she having spent many an hour on the hunting fields with fellows looking a lot worse, but my face gave her something to gasp about.
"Good Lord, Bertram. Has there been a death in the family?"
I hit on something rather poetic then.
"Yes, dearest Aunt. I have died in heart and soul."
Aunt Dahlia looked at me squarely.
"What?"
"Read this foul thing." I said, passing her the n.paper.
"Good gracious! Somebody ought to lock that Glossop up."
"I could do better than that, aged A. I would stretch him over the roof, and allow Angela, your good self, and me to dance over him wearing ice skates."
"You are angry, Bertie."
"Yes, I am. After we'd finished Glossop off, it would be down again to tie Jeeves to the local railway, and see what happened."
This nearly did the old relative in. She stared at me, aghast.
"Did you really say that, Bertie?"
"Yes."
"Things are bad. Why though? What has he done?"
I relayed the facts. Aunt Dahlia went purple.
Chapter Nineteen
It was on the morrow, when I had stepped down to the station, that I at last got contact with the outside world. I sniffed the air, and inhaled a sudden passing train. After choking for a bit, I managed to struggle over to the newspaper stand. I collected several different sheets, and on instruction from Aunt Dahlia, a copy of 'Miladys Boudoir'. Let me tell you that the shop attendant gave me a bally funny look at that one.
As I travelled back up to the house, I idly flicked through the things. I was just looking at one of them, forget which, when the page dropped open at the engagements and marriages column.
I gargled. I gurgled. I'm damn near convinced my eyes stuck out. My bottom jaw plummeted and must have got tangled up with my feet, as I was suddenly spread-eagled on the dusty road. I raised the offending item to my disbelieving eyes for one more peep.
"A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place between Mr T.Glossop and Miss E.Cooper."
I had sat up to read this, but now, with a deflated sigh, I flopped back down again, the blasted paper hanging uselessly from my limp hand. I felt like one of those chaps who are portrayed mooching around London, their ties hanging loosely, hands in pockets, with hair un-combed. I never believed there were people who felt that low until now.
Well, after a good deal of soul-searching, and staring blandly at the sky, pondering the infinite, I got up, brushed myself down, picked up the papers, and did a fair bit of mooching till I reached the abode of my good and deserving aunt.
When the front door opened, revealing the butler, he leapt like a startled fawn. He goggled at me for a time, and then grudgingly allowed me inside. I was somewhat perturbed at his manner, till catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror; I saw why he had goggled quite so much.
My hair was all over the shop, or more accurately, all over my head, sticking out at right angles in some places. My clothes were dusty, my tie was a lost cause, swaying to and fro in a sad sort of way, and one hand was in a pocket, and the other clutching what appeared to be the largest collection of scrunched newspaper ever. This, I supposed, is what you get from moping about on dusty roads.
Anyway, I staggered up to my room, and gave Jeeves the perfect opportunity for the world record in the standing high jump. What's more, he took the p.o. with both hands, and probably beat the current score by a good two foot.
I had honestly never seen the man so rattled. It amazed me that he could bear the shock of his nieces various engagements without so much as the twitch of an eyebrow, and yet, the sight of the young master after he has been moping and mooching alternately, set him right off.
His eyes went to dinner plate proportions. The mouth formed a sort of strangled cry, and the rest of his body gave an involuntary shudder, as though he had been poked by a cattle prod.
His whole aspect was that of a man who has just been bitten on various limbs by all his close relatives and friends.
"Oh, hullo Jeeves."
This finished him off. He gasped for air and vanished into a secret compartment somewhere.
I sat down on the bed, buried my face in my hands, and began a low moan.
Jeeves re-appeared, still not quite himself, but much recovered.
"Sir?"
I thrust the offending paper at him. He gave me a curious look, and then read it. His face flickered a bit, and finally settled on remorse. He set the paper down on a convenient table, before looking at me with the fatherly eye, again.
"I'm extremely sorry, sir."
I looked up at the man. He had never looked quite so sympathetic in the entire time I had known him.
"Well, it can't be helped, I suppose."
Here, Jeeves went a rather funny colour, and seemed to narrowly avoid the urge to rush out again. He looked me straight in the eyeball, and said;
"Sir. I'm afraid to say it could have been helped. I am completely to blame for this most disturbing incident."
"What?"
"Indeed, sir. I ought to have told you what I knew from the first. I have known from almost the beginning what Mr Cooper's intentions were, after hearing from Mr Glossop."
This was, in my eyes, courage. For any man to come here, stand before my grieving heart and say that lot, well, it was taking one's life in one's hands, to be honest. It was a wrench to prevent myself leaping at the man, and beating him senseless.
"Jeeves!"
"Yes, sir. Mr Cooper received a communication from Mr Glossop, proposing his engagement to Miss Cooper. Mr Cooper accepted."
I seethed a trifle. But then I recollection hit me.
"But Jeeves, why should he allow the aisle traipsing between the wonderful Emily, and the toad Glossop, but not between Emily and myself? I thought he objected to me on grounds of being a 'blood sucking aristocrat', and I have to say Mr Glossop isn't much of an improvement."
Here Jeeves looked even more remorseful. He was apparently trying very hard at the remorse. I was with him completely in this; if he didn't keep it up there was a good chance I would break his neck in a fit of grievous rage. I am not by nature, a man of sudden tempers, but this sort of soul shattering occurrence was more than enough to make me feel wronged. The feudal spirit, which had always linked Jeeves and I, had obviously been off duty for the entire time all the above business was going on.
"I must be honest, sir, and say that that was not the reason Mr Cooper objected to you. I showed him the papers which I had written about you for my club, after I had learned of yours and Miss Emily's intentions."
There followed the thickest, most unpleasant silence imaginable. Both mind and heart were in turmoil. This was too much. It really was. I gripped the edge of the bed like a vice; it was all I could do to stop myself occupying the front page of the next paper, as a murder sensation.
"MAN MURDERS OWN VALET IN MARKET SNODSBURY"
"Jeeves, I would very much like you to leave, now."
"Quite, sir."
"And don't ever, ever let yourself come anywhere near me again. I have had my fill of deceit, lies and backstabbing for one lifetime."
He began to shimmer out, but he stopped mid-shimmer, and gave me the paternal look once more.
"I truly am very sorry, sir, to have ruined yours and Miss Emily's happiness. It was not my place to do so. I apologise."
With that, he resumed his shimmer. I got up, and wobbling over to my bed- side drawer, withdrew a photo of a girl who was very likely getting sick and tired of being engaged to various fellows, with no say in the matter. I heard the door behind me open and close, as Jeeves left the room. That was that then, I felt.
I sat for some time, looking longingly at the photograph. I was disturbed in my mourning by the entrance of the houses owner. There was a 'flump' noise, as Aunt Dahlia alighted next to me.
"Bertie, I believe you've finally cracked. Jeeves has just left for the open spaces. He said something about you giving him the sack!"
I raised the heavy head. The aunt drew a startled breath. My appearance in general hadn't shocked her, she having spent many an hour on the hunting fields with fellows looking a lot worse, but my face gave her something to gasp about.
"Good Lord, Bertram. Has there been a death in the family?"
I hit on something rather poetic then.
"Yes, dearest Aunt. I have died in heart and soul."
Aunt Dahlia looked at me squarely.
"What?"
"Read this foul thing." I said, passing her the n.paper.
"Good gracious! Somebody ought to lock that Glossop up."
"I could do better than that, aged A. I would stretch him over the roof, and allow Angela, your good self, and me to dance over him wearing ice skates."
"You are angry, Bertie."
"Yes, I am. After we'd finished Glossop off, it would be down again to tie Jeeves to the local railway, and see what happened."
This nearly did the old relative in. She stared at me, aghast.
"Did you really say that, Bertie?"
"Yes."
"Things are bad. Why though? What has he done?"
I relayed the facts. Aunt Dahlia went purple.