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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
43
“They
are
my
Aunt
Dahlia.”
“My
gosh!”
“You
see
now,”
I
pointed
out,
“how
lucky
you
were
to
get
me
behind
you.
You
go
to
Jeeves,
and
what
does
he
do?
He
dresses
you
up
in
scarlet
tights
and
one
of
the
foulest
false
beards
of
my
experience,
and
sends
you
off
to
fancy-dress
balls.
Result,
agony
of
spirit
and
no
progress.
I
then
take
over
and
put
you
on
the
right
lines.
Could
Jeeves
have
got
you
into
Brinkley
Court?
Not
a
chance.
Aunt
Dahlia
isn’t
his
aunt.
I
merely
mention
these
things.”
“By
Jove,
Bertie,
I
don’t
know
how
to
thank
you.”
“My
dear
chap!”
“But,
I
say.”
“Now
what?”
“What
do
I
do
when
I
get
there?”
“If
you
knew
Brinkley
Court,
you
would
not
ask
that
question.
In
those
romantic
surroundings
you
can’t
miss.
Great
lovers
through
the
ages
have
fixed
up
the
preliminary
formalities
at
Brinkley.
The
place
is
simply
ill
with
atmosphere.
You
will
stroll
with
the
girl
in
the
shady
walks.
You
will
sit
with
her
on
the
shady
lawns.
You
will
row
on
the
lake
with
her.
And
gradually
you
will
find
yourself
working
up
to
a
point
where----”
“By
Jove,
I
believe
you’re
right.”
“Of
course,
I’m
right.
I’ve
got
engaged
three
times
at
Brinkley.
No
business
resulted,
but
the
fact
remains.
And
I
went
there
without
the
foggiest
idea
of
indulging
in
the
tender
pash.
I
hadn’t
the
slightest
intention
of
proposing
to
anybody.
Yet
no
sooner
had
I
entered
those
romantic
grounds
than
I
found
myself
reaching
out
for
the
nearest
girl
in
sight
and
slapping
my
soul
down
in
front
of
her.
It’s
something
in
the
air.”
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