“Good Lord, Jeeves! Is there anything you don’t know?”
“I could not say, sir.”
I picked up the telegram.
“I suppose he wants us to go down and help him out a bit?”
“That would appear to be his motive in dispatching the message, sir.”
“Well, what shall we do? Go?”
“I would advocate it, sir. If I may say so, I think that Mr. Little should be encouraged in this particular matter.”
“You think he’s picked a winner this time?”
“I hear nothing but excellent reports of the young lady, sir. I think it is beyond question that she would be an admirable influence for Mr. Little, should the affair come to a happy conclusion. Such a union would also, I fancy, go far to restore Mr. Little to the good graces of his uncle, the young lady being well connected and possessing private means. In short, sir, I think that if there is anything that we can do we should do it.”
“Well, with you behind him,” I said, “I don’t see how he can fail to click.”
“You are very good, sir,” said Jeeves. “The tribute is much appreciated.”
Bingo met us at Twing station next day, and insisted on my sending Jeeves on in the car with the bags while he and I walked. He started in about the female the moment we had begun to hoof it.
“She is very wonderful, Bertie. She is not one of these flippant, shallow-minded modern girls. She is sweetly grave and beautifully earnest. She reminds me of—what is the name I want?”