THE COMPLETE BULLDOG DRUMMOND SERIES (10 Novels in One Edition). H. C. McNeile / Sapper

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      II. — IN WHICH PROFESSOR GOODMAN REALISES THAT

       THERE ARE MORE THINGS IN LIFE THAN CHEMISTRY

       Table of Content

      When Brenda Goodman, in a moment of mental aberration, consented to marry Algy Longworth, she little guessed the result.

      From being just an ordinary, partially wanting specimen he became a raving imbecile. Presumably she must have thought it was natural as she showed no signs of terror, at any rate in public, but it was otherwise with his friends.

      Men who had been wont to foregather with him to consume the matutinal cocktail now fled with shouts of alarm whenever he hove in sight. Only the baser members of that celebrated society, the main object of which is to cultivate the muscles of the left arm when consuming liquid refreshment, clung to him in his fall from grace.

      They found that his mental fog was so opaque that he habitually forgot the only rule and raised his glass to his lips with his right hand.

      And since that immediately necessitated a further round at his expense, they gave great glory to Allah for such an eminently satisfactory state of affairs. And when it is further added that he was actually discovered by Peter Darrell reading the poems of Ella Wheeler Wilcox on the morning of the Derby, it will be readily conceded that matters looked black.

      That the state of affairs was only temporary was, of course, recognised; but while it lasted it became necessary for him to leave the councils of men. A fellow who wants to trot back to the club-house from the ninth green in the middle of a four-ball foursome to blow his fiancée a kiss through the telephone is a truly hideous spectacle.

      And so the sudden action of Hugh Drummond, one fine morning in June, is quite understandable. He had been standing by the window of his room staring into the street, and playing Beaver to himself, when with a wild yell he darted to the bell. He pealed it several times; then he rushed to the door and shouted: "Denny! Where the devil are you, Denny?"

      "Here, sir."

      His trusted body-servant and erstwhile batman appeared from the nether regions of the house, and regarded his master in some surprise.

      "The door, Denny—the front door. Go and bolt and bar it; put the chain up; turn all the latchkeys. Don't stand there blinking, you fool. Mr Longworth is tacking up the street, and I know he's coming here. Blow at him through the letter-box, and tell him to go away. I will not have him about the house at this hour of the morning. Tell him I'm in bed with housemaid's knee. Not the housemaid's knee, you ass: It's a malady, not a dissecting-room in a hospital."—With a sigh of relief he watched Denny bar the door; then he returned to his own room and sank into an arm-chair.

      "Heavens!" he muttered, "what an escape! Poor old Algy!"

      He sighed again profoundly, and then, feeling in need of support, he rose and crossed to a cask of beer which adorned one corner of the room. And he was just preparing to enjoy the fruits of his labours, when the door opened and Denny came in.

      "He won't go, sir—says he must see you, before you dine with his young lady tonight."

      "Great Scott! Denny—isn't that enough?" said Drummond wildly. "Not that one minds dining with her, but It's watching him that is so painful. Have you inspected him this morning?"

      "I kept the door on the chain, sir, and glanced at him. He seems to me to be a little worried."

      Drummond crossed to the window and looked out. Standing on the pavement outside was the unfortunate Algy, who waved his stick wildly as soon as he saw him.

      "Your man Denny has gone mad," he cried. "He kept the door on the chain and gibbered like a monkey. I want to see you."

      "I know you do, Algy: I saw you coming up Brook Street. And it was I who told Denny to bar the door. Have you come to talk to me about love?"

      "No, old man, I swear I haven't," said Algy earnestly. "I won't mention the word, I promise you. And it's really most frightfully important."

      "All right," said Drummond cautiously. "Denny shall let you in; but at the first word of poetry—out you go through the window."

      He nodded to his servant, and—a moment or two later Algy Longworth came into the room. The newcomer was arrayed in a faultless morning coat, and Hugh Drummond eyed him noncommittally. He certainly looked a little worried, though his immaculate topper and white spats seemed to show that he was bearing up with credit.

      "Going to Ranelagh, old bird," said Algy. "Hence the bathing suit. Lunching first, don't you know, and all that—so I thought I'd drop in this morning to make sure of catching you. You and Phyllis are dining, aren't you, this evening?"

      "We are," said Hugh.

      "Well, the most awful thing has happened, old boy. My prospective father- in-law to be—Brenda's dear old male parent—has gone mad. He's touched; He's wanting; he's up the pole."

      He lit a cigarette impressively, and Drummond stared at him.

      "What's the matter with the old thing?" he demanded. "I met him outside his club yesterday and he didn't seem to me to be any worse than usual."

      "My dear boy, I didn't know anything about it till last night," cried Algy. "He sprang it on us at dinner, and I tell you I nearly swooned. I tried to register mirth, but I failed, Hugh—I failed. I shudder to think what my face must have looked like."

      He was pacing up and down the room in his agitation.

      "You know, don't you, old man, that he ain't what you'd call rolling in boodle. I mean, with the best will in the world you couldn't call him a financial noise. And though, of course, it doesn't matter to me what Brenda has, if we can't manage, I shall have to do a job of work or something—yet I feel sort of responsible СКАЧАТЬ