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"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be of assistance to us." "Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" "Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little while." I didn't get this for a moment. "Put him up? For my clubs?" "No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty darling?"
It looked as if Motty, after seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the chappie's manner that he was still upset. "Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and what-not. "No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." "Not returned? What do you mean?"
Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. "Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. "I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have him to live with you while I am away." These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave Motty the swift east-to-west.
"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able to carry him in." "Carry him in?" "His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. "He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. "Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" "Sir?"
We're only young once. Why interfere with life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" Put like that, it did seem reasonable. "All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is!
What I mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in the soup somewhat." "I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them?
I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, rolling placidly over me, as it were. There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. "I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to Sing-Sing prison.
You have never met my son, Wilmot, I think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet from the O.P. to the Prompt Side.
Now tell me, old sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a damper on the gaiety.
The management was extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of soothing. The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty there.
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