Summer Moonshine by P. G. Wodehouse Page B

Woman's perfidy. Watching Miss Whittaker's movements with a pair of field-glasses, he had seen her cross the meadow to the houseboat, where a male figure, whose features he had been unable to discern, had leaped from the roof and clasped her in his embrace. Not even the news that a brother whom he had not seen for a year wished to speak to him on the telephone could rouse him to any real animation after that.
    'Hello, Joe,' he said sombrely.
    Joe, to whom recent events had given animation enough for two, barked like a seal.
    'Hey, Tubby!'
    'Where are you talking from?'
    'The local inn. I'm staying there. Say, Tubby—'
    'Why?'
    'Never mind why. Listen, Tubby; this is urgent. What is your standing in that joint?'
    'Eh?'
    'At Walsingford Hall.'
    'What is my standing at Walsingford Hall?'
    'Yes. How do you rate? If you suggested ringing in an only brother, would they say "Fine! Any brother of yours," or would there be angry mutters of "Oh, my God, not two of them" ?'
    'You mean you want to come here?'
    'That's right.'
    'Well, come on, then.'
    'Can you work me in?'
    'You don't have to be worked in.'
    'I can't just walk in.'
    'Sure you can, if you've got the money. Step up to the front door and press the bell.'
    'How do you mean, money?'
    'The price of admission. You can't be a paying guest if you don't pay.'
    'Paying guest?'
    'You know what a paying guest is.'
    'But Sir Buckstone Abbott doesn't take in paying guests?'
    'He certainly does.'
    'You mean the place is a sort of residential hotel?'
    'That's about it. Do you want to join the troupe?'
    'You bet I do.'
    'Then come on up, and I'll introduce you to the boss.'

CHAPTER 8
    T HE road that led to Walsingford Hall from the village of Walsingford Parva was steep and dusty, but Joe, though the sun was now shining more strongly than ever, skimmed up it like the god Mercury on winged feet, too busy with golden thoughts to notice what might have discouraged a less eager pedestrian. Where his brother Tubby would have puffed, he sang.
    Only the author of a thesaurus could have done justice to his emotions as he walked. Roget, for instance, would have described him as glad, happy, pleased, elated, entranced, ecstatic and overjoyed, and he would have been right. He saw now how silly he had been in not realizing from the start that providence was bound to look after a man as good as himself. It was just good men like himself for whom it reserved its special efforts. In uplifted mood he reached the top of the hill, and came upon Tubby sitting on a stile by the roadside.
    'Hello, Joe,' said Tubby. 'Fancy you bobbing up.'
    'Yes,' said Joe.
    No further word was spoken on the subject of this unlooked-for reunion after weary months of separation. Each seemed to think that this about covered it. The Vanringhams were not a family who made much of a fuss about long-lost brothers.
    'Listen, Tubby,' said Joe, 'are you certain?'
    'You'd better come and sit down and cool off,' said Tubby, eyeing him critically 'You look as if you had been chasing an electric hare. Am I certain about what?'
    'This paying-guest thing.'
    'Sure.'
    'Are you a paying guest?'
    'Sure.'
    'Can anyone be a paying guest?'
    'Sure.'
    'Well, this is the most amazing thing I ever heard. How long has this been going on?'
    'I don't know. Quite a time, I guess. There were already six souls in captivity when I arrived. Half these folks with big houses take in paying guests nowadays. They have to, or they don't eat.'
    'So I can just walk in and ask for a reservation?'
    'If you've got what it takes. You pay as you enter. Can you ante up?'
    'Of course.'
    'Prices run kind of high.'
    'That's all right. I've plenty of money.'
    'Been robbing a bank?'
    'Been knocking the drama-loving public's eye out with the biggest comedy hit there's been in years. Don't you ever read the papers? My play opened the night before last. A smacko.'
    'Then you're just the sort of bird they need up here. They'll put out the red carpet.'
    Joe regarded his brother