Service with a Smile by P.G. Wodehouse Read Free Book Online

Limehouse is next door to Bottleton
East, where my job was, and I happened to be doing some visiting there for a
pal of mine who had sprained an ankle while trying to teach the choir boys to
dance the carioca, and I came along just as someone was snatching her bag. So,
of course, I biffed the blighter.’
    ‘Where
did they bury the unfortunate man?’
    ‘Oh, I
didn’t biff him much, just enough to make him see how wrong it is to snatch
bags.’
    ‘And
then?’
    ‘Well,
one thing led to another, sort of.’
    ‘I see.
And what is she like these days?’
    ‘You
know her?’
    ‘In her
childhood we were quite intimate. She used to call me Uncle Fred. Extraordinarily
pretty she was then. Still is, I hope?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘That’s
good. So many attractive children lose their grip and go all to pieces in later
life.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘But
she didn’t?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Still
comely, is she?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And
you would die for one little rose from her hair?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘There
is no peril, such for instance as having Lady Constance Keeble look
squiggle-eyed at you, that you would not face for her sake?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Your
conversational method, my dear Bill,’ said Lord Ickenham, regarding him
approvingly, ‘impresses me a good deal and has shown me that I must change the
set-up as I had envisaged it. I had planned on arrival at the Castle to draw
you out on the subject of Brazil, so that you could hold everybody spellbound
with your fund of good stories about your adventures there and make yourself
the life of the party, but I feel now that that is not the right approach.’
    ‘Brazil?’
    ‘Ah,
yes, I didn’t mention that to you, did I? I told Emsworth that there was where
you came from.’
    ‘Why
Brazil?’
    ‘Oh,
one gets these ideas. But I was saying that I had changed my mind about
featuring you as a sparkling raconteur. Having had the pleasure of conversing
with you, I see you now as the strong, silent man, the fellow with the far-away
look in his eyes who rarely speaks except in monosyllables. So if anybody tries
to pump you about Brazil, just grunt. Like our host,’ said Lord Ickenham,
indicating Lord Emsworth, who was doing so. ‘A pity in a way of course, for I
had a couple of good stories about the Brazilian ants which would have gone
down well. As I dare say you know, they go about eating everything in sight,
like Empress of Blandings.’
    The
sound of that honoured name must have penetrated Lord Emsworth’s slumbers, for
his eyes opened and he sat up, blinking.
    ‘Did I
hear you say something about the Empress?’
    ‘I was
telling Meriwether here what a superb animal she was, the only pig that has
ever won the silver medal in the Fat Pigs class three years in succession at
the Shropshire Agricultural Show. Wasn’t I, Meriwether?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘He
says Yes. You must show her to him first thing.’
    ‘Eh?
Oh, of course. Yes, certainly, certainly, certainly,’ said Lord Emsworth, well
pleased. ‘You’ll join us, Ickenham?’
    ‘Not
immediately, if you don’t mind. I yield to no one in my appreciation of the
Empress, but I feel that on arrival at the old shanty what I shall need first
is a refreshing cup of tea.’
    ‘Tea?’ said
Lord Emsworth, as if puzzled by the word. ‘Tea? Oh, tea? Yes, of course, tea.
Don’t take it myself, but Connie has it on the terrace every afternoon. She’ll
look after you.’
     
     
    2
     
    Lady Constance was alone
at the tea-table when Lord Ickenham reached it. As he approached, she lowered
the cucumber sandwich with which she had been about to refresh herself and contrived
what might have passed for a welcoming smile. To say that she was glad to see
Lord Ickenham would be overstating the case, and she had already spoken her
mind to her brother Clarence with reference to his imbecility in inviting him —
with a friend — to Blandings Castle. But, as she had so often had to remind herself
when coping with the Duke of Dunstable, she was a