Blandings Castle and Elsewhere by P. G. Wodehouse Page B

reunion.
    The Rev. Rupert Bingham, though he returned his greeting
with cordiality, was far from exuberant. He seemed subdued,
gloomy, as if he had discovered schism among his flock. His
voice, when he spoke, was the voice of a man with a secret
sorrow.
    'Oh, hullo, Freddie. I haven't seen you for years. Keeping
pretty fit?'
    'As a fiddle, Beefers, old man, as a fiddle. And you?'
    'Oh, I'm all right,' said the Rev. Rupert, still with that same
strange gloom. 'What were you doing in that house?'
    'Trying to sell dog-biscuits.'
    'Do you sell dog-biscuits?'
    'I do when people have sense enough to see that Donaldson's
Dog-Joy stands alone. But could I make my fatheaded aunt see
that? No, Beefers, not though I talked for an hour and sprayed
her with printed matter like a—'
    'Your aunt? I didn't know Lady Alcester was your aunt.'
    'Didn't you, Beefers? I thought it was all over London.'
    'Did she tell you about me?'
    'What about you? Great Scott! Are you the impoverished
bloke who wants to marry Gertrude?'
    'Yes.'
    'Well, I'm dashed.'
    'I love her, Freddie,' said the Rev. Rupert Bingham. 'I love her
as no man ...'
    'Rather. Quite. Absolutely. I know. All the usual stuff. And
she loves you, what?'
    'Yes. And now they've gone and sent her off to Blandings, to
be out of my way'
    'Low. Very low. But why are you impoverished? What
about tithes? I always understood you birds made a pot out of
tithes.'
    'There aren't any tithes where I am.'
    'No tithes?'
    'None.'
    'H'm. Not so hot. Well, what are you going to do about it,
Beefers?'
    'I thought of calling on your aunt and trying to reason with
her.'
    Freddie took his old friend's arm sympathetically and drew
him away.
    'No earthly good, old man. If a woman won't buy Donaldson's
Dog-Joy, it means she has some sort of mental kink and it's no
use trying to reason with her. We must think of some other
procedure. So Gertrude is at Blandings, is she? She would be.
The family seem to look on the place as a sort of Bastille.
Whenever the young of the species make a floater like falling
in love with the wrong man, they are always shot off to Blandings
to recover. The guv'nor has often complained about it
bitterly. Now, let me think.'
    They passed into Park Street. Some workmen were busy
tearing up the paving with pneumatic drills, but the whirring
of Freddie's brain made the sound almost inaudible.
    'I've got it,' he said at length, his features relaxing from the
terrific strain. And it's a dashed lucky thing for you, my lad, that
I went last night to see that super-film, "Young Hearts Adrift,"
featuring Rosalie Norton and Otto Byng. Beefers, old man,
you're legging it straight down to Blandings this very afternoon.'
    'What!'
    'By the first train after lunch. I've got the whole thing planned
out. In this super-film, "Young Hearts Adrift," a poor but
deserving young man was in love with the daughter of rich
and haughty parents, and they took her away to the country so
that she could forget, and a few days later a mysterious stranger
turned up at the place and ingratiated himself with the parents
and said he wanted to marry their daughter, and they gave their
consent, and the wedding took place, and then he tore off his
whiskers and it was Jim!'
    'Yes, but ...'
    'Don't argue. The thing's settled. My aunt needs a sharp
lesson. You would think a woman would be only too glad to
put business in the way of her nearest and dearest, especially
when shown samples and offered a fortnight's free trial. But no!
She insists on sticking to Peterson's Pup-Food, a wholly inferior
product – lacking, I happen to know, in many of the essential
vitamins – and from now on, old boy, I am heart and soul in your
cause.'
    'Whiskers?' said the Rev. Rupert doubtfully.
    'You won't have to wear any whiskers. My guv'nor's never
seen you. Or has he?'
    'No, I've not met Lord Emsworth.'
    'Very well, then.'
    'But what good will it do me, ingratiating myself, as you call
it, with your father? He's only Gertrude's uncle.'
    'What