that Mr. Little’s affection is not unmingled with awe, sir.”
“Well, how are we to help a man when he’s such a rabbit as that? Have you anything to suggest? I shall be seeing him after dinner, and he’s sure to ask first thing what you advise.”
“In my opinion, sir, the most judicious course for Mr. Little to pursue would be to concentrate on the young gentleman.”
“The small brother? How do you mean?”
“Make a friend of him, sir—take him for walks and so forth.”
“It doesn’t sound one of your red-hottest ideas. I must say I expected something fruitier than that.”
“It would be a beginning, sir, and might lead to better things.”
“Well, I’ll tell him. I liked the look of her, Jeeves.”
“A thoroughly estimable young lady, sir.”
I slipped Bingo the tip from the stable that night, and was glad to observe that it seemed to cheer him up.
“Jeeves is always right,” he said. “I ought to have thought of it myself. I’ll start in tomorrow.”
It was amazing how the chappie bucked up. Long before I left for town it had become a mere commonplace for him to speak to the girl. I mean he didn’t simply look stuffed when they met. The brother was forming a bond that was a dashed sight stronger than the curate’s duets. She and Bingo used to take him for walks together. I asked Bingo what they talked about on these occasions, and he said Wilfred’s future. The girl hoped that Wilfred would one day become a curate, but Bingo said no, there was something about curates he