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BERTIE CHANGES HIS MIND 247

something serious—something that would not be able to be put right again for a t least a couple of hours. One gets these presentiments.

It may have been some half-hour later th a t Mr. Wooster came into the stable-yard as I was leaning against the car enjoying a quiet cigarette. “No, don’t chuck it away, Jeeves,” he said, as I withdrew the cigarette from my mouth. “As a m atter of fact, I ’ve come to touch you for a smoke. Got one to spare?” “Only gaspers, I fear, sir.” “They’ll do,” responded Mr. Wooster, with no little eagerness. I observed that his manner was a trifle fatigued and his eye somewhat wild. “ I t’s a rummy thing, Jeeves, I seem to have lost my cigarette-case. Can’t find it anywhere.” “ I am sorry to hear that, sir. It is not in the car.” “ No ? Must have dropped it somewhere, then.” He drew at his gasper with relish. “ Jolly creatures, small girls, Jeeves,” he remarked, after a pause. “ Extremely so, sir.” “ Of course, I can imagine some fellows finding them a bit exhausting in—er-----” “ En masse, sir ? ” “ T hat’s the word. A bit exhausting en masse.” “ I must confess, sir, th at th at is how they used to strike me. In my younger days, at the outset of my career, sir, I was a t one time page-boy in a school for young ladies.” “ No, really ? I never knew that before. I say, Jeeves—er—i d the—er—dear little souls giggle much in your day ? ” “ Practically without cessation, sir.” “ Makes a fellow feel a bit of an ass, what ? I shouldn’t wonder if they usedn’t to stare at you from time to time, too, eh ? ” “ At the school where I was employed, sir, the young