Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
Book online «Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
To Ashe; But Presently There Came A Creaking Of Brakes And The
Train Jerked Itself To Another Stop. A Voice On The Platform Made
Itself Heard, Calling:
"Market Blandings! Market Blandings Station!"
* * *
The Village Of Market Blandings Is One Of Those Sleepy English
Hamlets That Modern Progress Has Failed To Touch; Except By The
Addition Of A Railroad Station And A Room Over The Grocer's Shop
Where Moving Pictures Are On View On Tuesdays And Fridays. The
Church Is Norman And The Intelligence Of The Majority Of The
Chapter 5 Pg 75Natives Paleozoic. To Alight At Market Blandings Station In The
Dusk Of A Rather Chilly Spring Day, When The Southwest Wind Has
Shifted To Due East And The Thrifty Inhabitants Have Not Yet Lit
Their Windows, Is To Be Smitten With The Feeling That One Is At
The Edge Of The World With No Friends Near.
Ashe, As He Stood Beside Mr. Peters' Baggage And Raked The
Unsympathetic Darkness With A Dreary Eye, Gave Himself Up To
Melancholy. Above Him An Oil Lamp Shed A Meager Light. Along The
Platform A Small But Sturdy Porter Was Juggling With A Milk Can.
The East Wind Explored Ashe's System With Chilly Fingers.
Somewhere Out In The Darkness Into Which Mr. Peters And Aline Had
Already Vanished In A Large Automobile, Lay The Castle, With Its
Butler And Its Fearful Code Of Etiquette. Soon The Cart That Was
To Convey Him And The Trunks Thither Would Be Arriving. He
Shivered.
Out Of The Gloom And Into The Feeble Rays Of The Oil Lamp Came
Joan Valentine. She Had Been Away, Tucking Aline Into The Car.
She Looked Warm And Cheerful. She Was Smiling In The Old Friendly
Way.
If Girls Realized Their Responsibilities They Would Be So Careful
When They Smiled That They Would Probably Abandon The Practice
Altogether. There Are Moments In A Man's Life When A Girl's Smile
Can Have As Important Results As An Explosion Of Dynamite.
In The Course Of Their Brief Acquaintance Joan Had Smiled At Ashe
Many Times, But The Conditions Governing Those Occasions Had Not
Been Such As To Permit Him To Be Seriously Affected. He Had Been
Pleased On Such Occasions; He Had Admired Her Smile In A Detached
And Critical Spirit; But He Had Not Been Overwhelmed By It. The
Frame Of Mind Necessary For That Result Had Been Lacking.
Now, However, After Five Minutes Of Solitude On The Depressing
Platform Of Market Blandings Station, He Was What The
Spiritualists Call A Sensitive Subject. He Had Reached That Depth
Of Gloom And Bodily Discomfort When A Sudden Smile Has All The
Effect Of Strong Liquor And Good News Administered
Simultaneously, Warming The Blood And Comforting The Soul, And
Generally Turning The World From A Bleak Desert Into A Land
Flowing With Milk And Honey.
It Is Not Too Much To Say That He Reeled Before Joan's Smile. It
Was So Entirely Unexpected. He Clutched Mr. Peters' Steamer Trunk
In His Emotion. All His Resolutions To Be Cold And Distant Were
Swept Away. He Had The Feeling That In A Friendless Universe Here
Was Somebody Who Was Fond Of Him And Glad To See Him.
A Smile Of Such Importance Demands Analysis, And In This Case
Repays It; For Many Things Lay Behind This Smile Of Joan
Valentine's On The Platform Of Market Blandings Station.
Chapter 5 Pg 76
In The First Place, She Had Had Another Of Her Swift Changes Of
Mood, And Had Once Again Tucked Away Hostility Into Its Corner.
She Had Thought It Over And Had Come To The Conclusion That As
She Had No Logical Grievance Against Ashe For Anything He Had
Done To Be Distant To Him Was The Behavior Of A Cat. Consequently
She Resolved, When They Should Meet Again, To Resume Her Attitude
Of Good-Fellowship. That In Itself Would Have Been Enough To Make
Her Smile.
There Was Another Reason, However, Which Had Nothing To Do With
Ashe. While She Had Been Tucking Aline Into The Automobile She
Met The Eye Of The Driver Of That Vehicle And Had Perceived A
Curious Look In It--A Look Of Amazement And Sheer Terror. A
Moment, Later, When Aline Called The Driver Freddie, She Had
Understood. No Wonder The Honorable Freddie Had Looked As Though
He Had Seen A Ghost.
It Would Be A Relief To The Poor Fellow When, As He Undoubtedly
Would Do In The Course Of The Drive, He Inquired Of Aline The
Name Of Her Maid And Was Told That It Was Simpson. He Would
Mutter Something About "Reminds Me Of A Girl I Used To Know," And
Would Brood On The Remarkable Way In Which Nature Produces
Doubles. But He Had A Bad Moment, And It Was Partly At The
Recollection Of His Face That Joan Smiled.
A Third Reason Was Because The Sight Of The Honorable Freddie Had
Reminded Her That R. Jones Had Said He Had Written Her Poetry.
That Thought, Too, Had Contributed Toward The Smile Which So
Dazzled Ashe.
Ashe, Not Being Miraculously Intuitive, Accepted The Easier
Explanation That She Smiled Because She Was Glad To Be In His
Company; And This Thought, Coming On Top Of His Mood Of Despair
And General Dissatisfaction With Everything Mundane, Acted On Him
Like Some Powerful Chemical.
In Every Man's Life There Is Generally One Moment To Which In
Later Years He Can Look Back And Say: "In This Moment I Fell In
Love!" Such A Moment Came To Ashe Now.
Betwixt The Stirrup And The Ground,
Mercy I Asked; Mercy I Found.
So Sings The Poet And So It Was With Ashe.
In The Almost Incredibly Brief Time It Took The Small But Sturdy
Porter To Roll A Milk Can Across The Platform And Hump It, With A
Clang, Against Other Milk Cans Similarly Treated A Moment Before,
Ashe Fell In Love.
The Word Is So Loosely Used, To Cover A Thousand Varying Shades
Of Emotion--From The Volcanic Passion Of An Antony For A
Cleopatra To The Tepid Preference Of A Grocer's Assistant For The
Irish Maid At The Second House On Main Street, As Opposed To The
Chapter 5 Pg 77Norwegian Maid At The First House Past The Post Office--The Mere
Statement That Ashe Fell In Love Is Not A Sufficient Description
Of His Feelings As He Stood Grasping Mr. Peters' Steamer Trunk.
Analysis Is Required.
From His Fourteenth Year Onward Ashe Had Been In Love Many Times.
His Sensations In The Case Of Joan Were Neither The Terrific
Upheaval That Had Caused Him, In His Fifteenth Year, To Collect
Twenty-Eight Photographs Of The Heroine Of The Road Company Of A
Musical Comedy Which Had Visited The Hayling Opera House, Nor The
Milder Flame That Had Caused Him, When At College, To Give Up
Smoking For A Week And Try To Read The Complete Works Of Ella
Wheeler Wilcox.
His Love Was Something That Lay Between These Two Poles.
He Did Not Wish The Station Platform Of Market Blandings To
Become Suddenly Congested With Red Indians So That He Might Save
Joan's Life; And He Did Not Wish To Give Up Anything At All. But
He Was Conscious--To The Very Depths Of His Being--That A Future
In Which Joan Did Not Figure Would Be So Insupportable As Not To
Bear Considering; And In The Immediate Present He Very Strongly
Favored The Idea Of Clasping Joan In His Arms And Kissing Her
Until Further Notice.
Mingled With These Feelings Was An Excited Gratitude To Her For
Coming To Him Like This, With That Electric Smile On Her Face; A
Stunned Realization That She Was A Thousand Times Prettier Than
He Had Ever Imagined; And A Humility That Threatened To Make Him
Loose His Clutch On The Steamer Trunk And Roll About At Her Feet,
Yapping Like A Dog.
Gratitude, So Far As He Could Dissect His Tangled Emotion Was The
Predominating Ingredient Of His Mood. Only Once In His Life Had
He Felt So Passionately Grateful To Any Human Being. On That
Occasion, Too, The Object Of His Gratitude Had Been Feminine.
Years Before, When A Boy In His Father's Home In Distant Hayling,
Massachusetts, Those In Authority Had Commanded That He--In His
Eleventh Year And As Shy As One Can Be Only At That Interesting
Age--Should Rise In The Presence Of A Roomful Of Strangers, Adult
Guests, And Recite "The Wreck Of The Hesperus."
He Had Risen. He Had Blushed. He Had Stammered. He Had Contrived
To Whisper: "It Was The Schooner Hesperus." And Then, In A Corner
Of The Room, A Little Girl, For No Properly Explained Reason, Had
Burst Out Crying. She Had Yelled, She Had Bellowed, And Would Not
Be Comforted; And In The Ensuing Confusion Ashe Had Escaped To
The Woodpile At The Bottom Of The Garden, Saved By A Miracle.
All His Life He Had Remembered The Gratitude He Had Felt For That
Little Timely Girl, And Never Until Now Had He Experienced Any
Other Similar Spasm. But As He Looked At Joan He Found Himself
Renewing That Emotion Of Fifteen Years Ago.
Chapter 5 Pg 78
She Was About To Speak. In A Sort Of Trance He Watched Her Lips
Part. He Waited Almost Reverently For The First Words She Should
Speak To Him In Her New Role Of The Only Authentic Goddess.
"Isn't It A Shame?" She Said. "I've Just Put A Penny In The
Chocolate Slot Machine--And It's Empty! I've A Good Mind To Write
To The Company."
Ashe Felt As Though He Were Listening To The Strains Of Some
Grand Sweet Anthem.
The Small But Sturdy Porter, Weary Of His Work Among The Milk
Cans, Or Perhaps--Let Us Not Do Him An Injustice Even In
Thought--Having Finished It, Approached Them.
"The Cart From The Castle's Here."
In The Gloom Beyond Him There Gleamed A Light Which Had Not Been
There Before. The
Comments (0)