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was I had kept the thing from Aggie because I wanted
to surprise her. I wanted to be able to come to her with the
scenario accepted and tell her I wasn't such a fool as I looked.'
    'Any woman capable of believing that—'
    'And most unfortunately I had said that I had to go to
Chicago that night on business. So, what with one thing and
another— Well, as I said just now, she's at the Savoy and I'm—'
    'Who is Jane Yorke?'
    A scowl marred Freddie's smooth features.
    A pill, guv'nor. One of the worst. A Jebusite and Amalekite.
If it hadn't been for her, I believe I could have fixed the thing.
But she got hold of Aggie and whisked her away and poisoned
her mind. This woman, guv'nor, has got a brother in the background,
and she wanted Aggie to marry the brother. And my
belief is that she is trying to induce Aggie to pop over to Paris
and get a divorce, so as to give the blighted brother another look
in, dash him! So now, guv'nor, is the time for action. Now is the
moment to rally round as never before. I rely on you.'
    'Me? What on earth do you expect me to do?'
    'Why, go to her and plead with her. They do it in the movies.
I've seen thousands of pictures where the white-haired old
father—'
    'Stuff and nonsense!' said Lord Emsworth, stung to the quick
– for, like so many well-preserved men of ripe years, he was
under the impression that he was merely slightly brindled. 'You
have made your bed, and you must stew in it.'
    'Eh?'
    'I mean, you must stew in your own juice. You have brought
this trouble on yourself by your own idiotic behaviour, and you
must bear the consequences.'
    'You mean you won't go and plead?'
    'No.'
    'You mean yes?'
    'I mean no.'
    'Not plead?' said Freddie, desiring to get this thing clear.
    'I refuse to allow myself to be drawn into the matter.'
    'You won't even give her a ring on the telephone?'
    'I will not.'
    'Oh, come, guv'nor. Be a sport. Her suite's Number Sixty-seven.
You can get her in a second and state my case, all for the
cost of twopence. Have a pop at it.'
    'No.'
    Freddie rose with set face.
    'Very well,' he said tensely. 'Then I may as well tell you,
guv'nor, that my life is as good as over. The future holds nothing
for me. I am a spent egg. If Aggie goes to Paris and gets that
divorce, I shall retire to some quiet spot and there pass the few
remaining years of my existence, a blighted wreck. Good-bye,
guv'nor.'
    'Good-bye.'
    'Honk-honk!' said Freddie moodily.
     
    As a general rule, Lord Emsworth was an early and a sound
sleeper, one of the few qualities which he shared with Napoleon
Bonaparte being the ability to slumber the moment his head
touched the pillow. But that night, weighed down with his
troubles, he sought unconsciousness in vain. And somewhere
in the small hours of the morning he sat up in bed, quaking.
A sudden grisly thought had occurred to him.
    Freddie had stated that, in the event of his wife obtaining a
divorce, he proposed to retire for the rest of his life to some quiet
spot. Suppose by 'quiet spot' he meant Blandings Castle! The
possibility shook Lord Emsworth like an ague. Freddie had
visited Blandings for extended periods before, and it was his
lordship's considered opinion that the boy was a worse menace
to the happy life of rural England than botts, green-fly, or foot-and-mouth
disease. The prospect of having him at Blandings
indefinitely affected Lord Emsworth like a blow on the base of
the skull.
    An entirely new line of thought was now opened. Had he in
the recent interview, he asked himself, been as kind as he should
have been? Had he not been a little harsh? Had he been just a
shade lacking in sympathy? Had he played quite the part a father
ought to have played?
    The answers to the questions, in the order stated, were as
follows: No. Yes. Yes. And No.
    Waking after a belated sleep and sipping his early tea, Lord
Emsworth found himself full of a new resolve. He had changed
his mind. It was his intention now to go to this daughter-in-law
of his and plead with