ts. Am considering arranging series of lectures for
him in neighbourhood. All the same I like your nerve using my house as a
summer-hotel resort and shall have much to say to you on subject when you
come down. Expect you thirtieth. Bring spats. Love. Travers._

To this I riposted:

_On consulting engagement book find impossible come Brinkley Court.
Deeply regret. Toodle-oo. Bertie._

Hers in reply stuck a sinister note:

_Oh, so it's like that, is it? You and your engagement book, indeed.
Deeply regret my foot. Let me tell you, my lad, that you will regret it a
jolly sight more deeply if you don't come down. If you imagine for one
moment that you are going to get out of distributing those prizes, you
are very much mistaken. Deeply regret Brinkley Court hundred miles from
London, as unable hit you with a brick. Love. Travers._

I then put my fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. It was not a
moment for petty economies. I let myself go regardless of expense:

_No, but dash it, listen. Honestly, you don't want me. Get Fink-Nottle
distribute prizes. A born distributor, who will do you credit.
Confidently anticipate Augustus Fink-Nottle as Master of Revels on
thirty-first inst. would make genuine sensation. Do not miss this great
chance, which may never occur again. Tinkerty-tonk. Bertie._

There was an hour of breathless suspense, and then the joyful tidings
arrived:

_Well, all right. Something in what you say, I suppose. Consider you
treacherous worm and contemptible, spineless cowardly custard, but have
booked Spink-Bottle. Stay where you are, then, and I hope you get run
over by an omnibus. Love. Travers._

The relief, as you may well imagine, was stupendous. A great weight
seemed to have rolled off my mind. It was as if somebody had been pouring
Jeeves's pick-me-ups into me through a funnel. I sang as I dressed for
dinner that night. At the Drones I was so gay and cheery that there were
several complaints. And when I got home and turned into the old bed, I
fell asleep like a little child within five minutes of inserting the
person between the sheets. It seemed to me that the whole distressing
affair might now be considered definitely closed.

Conceive my astonishment, therefore, when waking on the morrow and
sitting up to dig into the morning tea-cup, I beheld on the tray another
telegram.

My heart sank. Could Aunt Dahlia have slept on it and changed her mind?
Could Gussie, unable to face the ordeal