Man With Two Left Feet | Page 9

the club, and after that, if I felt strong
enough, I might trickle off to Walton Heath for a round of golf.'
I am not interested in your totterings and tricklings. I mean, have you
any important engagements in the next week or so?'
I scented danger.
'Rather,' I said. 'Heaps! Millions! Booked solid!'
'What are they?'
'I--er--well, I don't quite know.'
'I thought as much. You have no engagements. Very well, then, I want
you to start immediately for America.'

'America!'
Do not lose sight of the fact that all this was taking place on an empty
stomach, shortly after the rising of the lark.
'Yes, America. I suppose even you have heard of America?'
'But why America?'
'Because that is where your Cousin Gussie is. He is in New York, and I
can't get at him.'
'What's Gussie been doing?'
'Gussie is making a perfect idiot of himself.'
To one who knew young Gussie as well as I did, the words opened up a
wide field for speculation.
'In what way?'
'He has lost his head over a creature.'
On past performances this rang true. Ever since he arrived at man's
estate Gussie had been losing his head over creatures. He's that sort of
chap. But, as the creatures never seemed to lose their heads over him, it
had never amounted to much.
'I imagine you know perfectly well why Gussie went to America, Bertie.
You know how wickedly extravagant your Uncle Cuthbert was.'
She alluded to Gussie's governor, the late head of the family, and I am
bound to say she spoke the truth. Nobody was fonder of old Uncle
Cuthbert than I was, but everybody knows that, where money was
concerned, he was the most complete chump in the annals of the nation.
He had an expensive thirst. He never backed a horse that didn't get
housemaid's knee in the middle of the race. He had a system of beating
the bank at Monte Carlo which used to make the administration hang
out the bunting and ring the joy-bells when he was sighted in the offing.

Take him for all in all, dear old Uncle Cuthbert was as willing a
spender as ever called the family lawyer a bloodsucking vampire
because he wouldn't let Uncle Cuthbert cut down the timber to raise
another thousand.
'He left your Aunt Julia very little money for a woman in her position.
Beechwood requires a great deal of keeping up, and poor dear Spencer,
though he does his best to help, has not unlimited resources. It was
clearly understood why Gussie went to America. He is not clever, but
he is very good-looking, and, though he has no title, the
Mannering-Phippses are one of the best and oldest families in England.
He had some excellent letters of introduction, and when he wrote home
to say that he had met the most charming and beautiful girl in the world
I felt quite happy. He continued to rave about her for several mails, and
then this morning a letter has come from him in which he says, quite
casually as a sort of afterthought, that he knows we are broadminded
enough not to think any the worse of her because she is on the
vaudeville stage.'
'Oh, I say!'
'It was like a thunderbolt. The girl's name, it seems, is Ray Denison,
and according to Gussie she does something which he describes as a
single on the big time. What this degraded performance may be I have
not the least notion. As a further recommendation he states that she
lifted them out of their seats at Mosenstein's last week. Who she may
be, and how or why, and who or what Mr Mosenstein may be, I cannot
tell you.'
'By jove,' I said, 'it's like a sort of thingummybob, isn't it? A sort of fate,
what?'
'I fail to understand you.'
'Well, Aunt Julia, you know, don't you know? Heredity, and so forth.
What's bred in the bone will come out in the wash, and all that kind of
thing, you know.'

'Don't be absurd, Bertie.'
That was all very well, but it was a coincidence for all that. Nobody
ever mentions it, and the family have been trying to forget it for
twenty-five years, but it's a known fact that my Aunt Julia, Gussie's
mother, was a vaudeville artist once, and a very good one, too, I'm told.
She was playing in pantomime at Drury Lane when Uncle Cuthbert
saw her first. It was before my time, of course, and long before I was
old enough to take notice the family had made the best of it, and Aunt
Agatha had pulled up her socks and put in a lot of educative work, and
with a microscope you couldn't tell Aunt Julia from a