Psmith Series. P. G. Wodehouse

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      CHAPTER XXI

      MARJORY THE FRANK

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      At the door of the senior block Burgess, going out, met Bob coming in, hurrying, as he was rather late.

      “Congratulate you, Bob,” he said; and passed on.

      Bob stared after him.; As he stared, Trevor came out of the block.

      “Congratulate you, Bob.”

      “What’s the matter now?”

      “Haven’t you seen?”

      “Seen what?”

      “Why the list.; You’ve got your first.”

      “My—­what? you’re rotting.”

      “No, I’m not.; Go and look.”

      The thing seemed incredible.; Had he dreamed that conversation between Spence and Burgess on the pavilion steps?; Had he mixed up the names?; He was certain that he had heard Spence give his verdict for Mike, and Burgess agree with him.

      Just then, Mike, feeling very ill, came down the steps.; He caught sight of Bob and was passing with a feeble grin, when something told him that this was one of those occasions on which one has to show a Red Indian fortitude and stifle one’s private feelings.

      “Congratulate you, Bob,” he said awkwardly.

      “Thanks awfully,” said Bob, with equal awkwardness.; Trevor moved on, delicately.; This was no place for him.; Bob’s face was looking like a stuffed frog’s, which was Bob’s way of trying to appear unconcerned and at his ease, while Mike seemed as if at any moment he might burst into tears.; Spectators are not wanted at these awkward interviews.

      There was a short silence.

      “Jolly glad you’ve got it,” said Mike.

      “I believe there’s a mistake.; I swear I heard Burgess say to Spence——­”

      “He changed his mind probably.; No reason why he shouldn’t.”

      “Well, it’s jolly rummy.”

      Bob endeavoured to find consolation.

      “Anyhow, you’ll have three years in the first.; You’re a cert. for next year.”

      “Hope so,” said Mike, with such manifest lack of enthusiasm that Bob abandoned this line of argument.; When one has missed one’s colours, next year seems a very, very long way off.

      They moved slowly through the cloisters, neither speaking, and up the stairs that led to the Great Hall.; Each was gratefully conscious of the fact that prayers would be beginning in another minute, putting an end to an uncomfortable situation.

      “Heard from home lately?” inquired Mike.

      Bob snatched gladly at the subject.

      “Got a letter from mother this morning.; I showed you the last one, didn’t I?; I’ve only just had time to skim through this one, as the post was late, and I only got it just as I was going to dash across to school.; Not much in it.; Here it is, if you want to read it.”

      “Thanks.; It’ll be something to do during Math.”

      “Marjory wrote, too, for the first time in her life.; Haven’t had time to look at it yet.”

      “After you.; Sure it isn’t meant for me?; She owes me a letter.”

      “No, it’s for me all right.; I’ll give it you in the interval.”

      The arrival of the headmaster put an end to the conversation.

      * * * * *

      By a quarter to eleven Mike had begun to grow reconciled to his fate.; The disappointment was still there, but it was lessened.; These things are like kicks on the shin.; A brief spell of agony, and then a dull pain of which we are not always conscious unless our attention is directed to it, and which in time disappears altogether.; When the bell rang for the interval that morning, Mike was, as it were, sitting up and taking nourishment.

      He was doing this in a literal as well as in a figurative sense when Bob entered the school shop.

      Bob appeared curiously agitated.; He looked round, and, seeing Mike, pushed his way towards him through the crowd.; Most of those present congratulated him as he passed; and Mike noticed, with some surprise, that, in place of the blushful grin which custom demands from the man who is being congratulated on receipt of colours, there appeared on his face a worried, even an irritated look.; He seemed to have something on his mind.

      “Hullo,” said Mike amiably.; “Got that letter?”

      “Yes.; I’ll show it you outside.”

      “Why not here?”

      “Come on.”

      Mike resented the tone, but followed.; Evidently something had happened to upset Bob seriously.; As they went out on the gravel, somebody congratulated Bob again, and again Bob hardly seemed to appreciate it.’

      Bob led the way across the gravel and on to the first terrace.; When they had left the crowd behind, he stopped.

      “What’s up?” asked Mike.

      “I want you to read——­”

      “Jackson!”

      They both turned.; The headmaster was standing on the edge of the gravel.

      Bob pushed the letter СКАЧАТЬ