"

"Oh, yes, sir. I have always been much attached to Miss Angela, and I
felt that it would afford me great pleasure were I to be able to be of
service to her."

"A laudable sentiment. But I suppose you drew blank?"

"No, sir. I was rewarded with an idea."

"What was it?"

"It occurred to me that a reconciliation might be effected between Mr.
Glossop and Miss Angela by appealing to that instinct which prompts
gentlemen in time of peril to hasten to the rescue of----"

I had to let go of the cravat in order to raise a hand. I was shocked.

"Don't tell me you were contemplating descending to that old
he-saved-her-from-drowning gag? I am surprised, Jeeves. Surprised and
pained. When I was discussing the matter with Aunt Dahlia on my arrival,
she said in a sniffy sort of way that she supposed I was going to shove
my Cousin Angela into the lake and push Tuppy in to haul her out, and I
let her see pretty clearly that I considered the suggestion an insult to
my intelligence. And now, if your words have the meaning I read into them,
you are mooting precisely the same drivelling scheme. Really, Jeeves!"

"No, sir. Not that. But the thought did cross my mind, as I walked in the
grounds and passed the building where the fire-bell hangs, that a sudden
alarm of fire in the night might result in Mr. Glossop endeavouring to
assist Miss Angela to safety."

I shivered.

"Rotten, Jeeves."

"Well, sir----"

"No good. Not a bit like it."

"I fancy, sir----"

"No, Jeeves. No more. Enough has been said. Let us drop the subj."

I finished tying the tie in silence. My emotions were too deep for
speech. I knew, of course, that this man had for the time being lost his
grip, but I had never suspected that he had gone absolutely to pieces
like this. Remembering some of the swift ones he had pulled in the past,
I shrank with horror from the spectacle of his present ineptitude. Or is
it ineptness? I mean this frightful disposition of his to stick straws in
his hair and talk like a perfect ass. It was the old, old story, I
supposed. A man's brain whizzes along for years exceeding the speed
limit, and something suddenly goes wrong with the steering-gear and it
skids and comes a smeller in the ditch.

"A bit elaborate," I said, trying to put the thing in as kindly a light
as possible. "Your old failing. You can see that it's a bit elaborate?"

"Possibly the plan I suggested might be considered open to that
criticism, sir, but _fau