Chapter 19 Asking Papa

Reviewing the matter later, I could see that I made one or twoblunders in my conduct of the campaign to win over Professor Derrick.

　　In the first place, I made a bad choice of time and place. At themoment this did not strike me. It is a simple matter, I reflected, fora man to pass another by haughtily and without recognition, when theymeet on dry land; but, when the said man, being it should beremembered, an indifferent swimmer, is accosted in the water and outof his depth, the feat becomes a hard one. It seemed to me that Ishould have a better chance with the professor in the water than outof it.

　　My second mistake--and this was brought home to me almost immediately--was in bringing Ukridge along. Not that I really brought him along;it was rather a case of being unable to shake him off. When he met meon the gravel outside the house at a quarter to eight on the followingmorning, clad in a dingy mackintosh which, swinging open, revealed apurple bathing-suit, I confess that my heart sank. Unfortunately, allmy efforts to dissuade him from accompanying me were attributed by himto a pardonable nervousness--or, as he put it, to the needle.

　　"Buck up, laddie!" he roared encouragingly. "I had anticipated this.

　　Something seemed to tell me that your nerve would go when it came tothe point. You're deuced lucky, old horse, to have a man like me atyour side. Why, if you were alone, you wouldn't have a word to say foryourself. You'd just gape at the man and yammer. But I'm with youladdie, I'm with you. If your flow of conversation dries up, count onme to keep the thing going."And so it came about that, having reached the Cob and spying in thedistance the grey head of the professor bobbing about on the face ofthe waters, we dived in and swam rapidly towards him.

　　His face was turned in the opposite direction when we came up withhim. He was floating peacefully on his back, and it was plain that hehad not observed our approach. For when, treading water easily in hisrear, I wished him good morning in my most conciliatory tone, he stoodnot upon the order of his sinking, but went under like so much pig-iron.

　　I waited courteously until he rose to the surface again, when Irepeated my remark.

　　He expelled the last remnant of water from his mouth with a wrathfulsplutter, and cleared his eyes with the back of his hand. I confess toa slight feeling of apprehension as I met his gaze. Nor was myuneasiness diminished by the spectacle of Ukridge splashing tactfullyin the background like a large seal. Ukridge so far had made noremarks. He had dived in very flat, and I imagine that his breath hadnot yet returned to him. He had the air of one who intends to get usedto his surroundings before trusting himself to speech.

　　"The water is delightfully warm," I said.

　　"Oh, it's you!" said the professor; and I could not cheat myself intothe belief that he spoke cordially. Ukridge snorted loudly in theoffing. The professor turned sharply, as if anxious to observe thismarine phenomenon; and the annoyed gurgle which he gave showed that hewas not approving of Ukridge either. I did not approve of Ukridgemyself. I wished he had not come. Ukridge, in the water, lacksdignity. I felt that he prejudiced my case.

　　"You are swimming splendidly this morning," I went on perseveringly,feeling that an ounce of flattery is worth a pound of rhetoric. "If,"I added, "you will allow me to say so.""I will not!" he snapped. "I--" here a small wave, noticing that hismouth was open, stepped in. "I wish," he resumed warmly, "as I said inme letter, to have nothing to do with you. I consider that ye'vebehaved in a manner that can only be described as abominable, and Iwill thank you to leave me alone.""But allow me--""I will not allow ye, sir. I will allow ye nothing. Is it not enoughto make me the laughing-stock, the butt, sir, of this town, withoutpursuing me in this way when I wish to enjoy a quiet swim?""Now, laddie, laddie," said Ukridge, placing a large hand on hisshoulder, "these are harsh words! Be reasonable! Think before youspeak. You little know . . .""Go to the devil!" said the professor. "I wish to have nothing to dowith either of you. I should be glad if you would cease thispersecution. Persecution, sir!"His remarks, which I have placed on paper as if they were continuousand uninterrupted, were punctuated in reality by a series of gasps andpuffings, as he received and rejected the successors of the wave hehad swallowed at the beginning of our little chat. The art ofconducting conversation while in the water is not given to everyswimmer. This he seemed to realise, for, as if to close the interview,he proceeded to make his way as quickly as he could to the shore.

　　Unfortunately, his first dash brought him squarely up against Ukridge,who, not having expected the collision, clutched wildly at him andtook him below the surface again. They came up a moment later on theworst terms.

　　"Are you trying to drown me, sir?" barked the professor.

　　"My dear old horse," said Ukridge complainingly, "it's a little hard.

　　You might look where you're going.""You grappled with me!""You took me by surprise, laddie. Rid yourself of the impression thatyou're playing water-polo.""But, professor," I said, joining the group and treading water, "onemoment."I was growing annoyed with the man. I could have ducked him, but forthe reflection that my prospects of obtaining his consent to myengagement would scarcely have been enhanced thereby.

　　"But, professor," I said, "one moment.""Go away, sir! I have nothing to say to you.""But he has lots to say to you," said Ukridge. "Now's the time, oldhorse," he added encouragingly to me. "Spill the news!"Without preamble I gave out the text of my address.

　　"I love your daughter, Phyllis, Mr. Derrick. She loves me. In fact, weare engaged.""Devilish well put, laddie," said Ukridge approvingly.

　　The professor went under as if he had been seized with cramp. It was alittle trying having to argue with a man, of whom one could notpredict with certainty that at any given moment he would not be underwater. It tended to spoil the flow of one's eloquence. The best ofarguments is useless if the listener suddenly disappears in the middleof it.

　　"Stick to it, old horse," said Ukridge. "I think you're going to bringit off."I stuck to it.

　　"Mr. Derrick," I said, as his head emerged, "you are naturallysurprised.""You would be," said Ukridge. "We don't blame you," he addedhandsomely.

　　"You--you--you--" So far from cooling the professor, liberal doses ofwater seemed to make him more heated. "You impudent scoundrel!"My reply was more gentlemanly, more courteous, on a higher planealtogether.

　　I said, winningly: "Cannot we let bygones be bygones?"From his remarks I gathered that we could not. I continued. I wasunder the unfortunate necessity of having to condense my speech. I wasnot able to let myself go as I could have wished, for time was animportant consideration. Ere long, swallowing water at his presentrate, the professor must inevitably become waterlogged.

　　"I have loved your daughter," I said rapidly, "ever since I first sawher . . .""And he's a capital chap," interjected Ukridge. "One of the best.

　　Known him for years. You'll like him.""I learned last night that she loved me. But she will not marry mewithout your consent. Stretch your arms out straight from theshoulders and fill your lungs well and you can't sink. So I have comethis morning to ask for your consent.""Give it!" advised Ukridge. "Couldn't do better. A very sound fellow.

　　Pots of money, too. At least he will have when he marries.""I know we have not been on the best of terms lately. For Heaven'ssake don't try to talk, or you'll sink. The fault," I said,generously, "was mine . . .""Well put," said Ukridge.

　　"But when you have heard my explanation, I am sure you will forgiveme. There, I told you so."He reappeared some few feet to the left. I swam up, and resumed.

　　"When you left us so abruptly after our little dinner-party----""Come again some night," said Ukridge cordially. "Any time you'repassing."" . . . you put me in a very awkward position. I was desperately inlove with your daughter, and as long as you were in the frame of mindin which you left I could not hope to find an opportunity of revealingmy feelings to her.""Revealing feelings is good," said Ukridge approvingly. "Neat.""You see what a fix I was in, don't you? Keep your arms well out. Ithought for hours and hours, to try and find some means of bringingabout a reconciliation. You wouldn't believe how hard I thought.""Got as thin as a corkscrew," said Ukridge.

　　"At last, seeing you fishing one morning when I was on the Cob, itstruck me all of a sudden . . .""You know how it is," said Ukridge.

　　" . . . all of a sudden that the very best way would be to arrange alittle boating accident. I was confident that I could rescue you allright."Here I paused, and he seized the opportunity to curse me--briefly,with a wary eye on an incoming wavelet.

　　"If it hadn't been for the inscrutable workings of Providence, whichhas a mania for upsetting everything, all would have been well. Infact, all was well till you found out.""Always the way," said Ukridge sadly. "Always the way.""You young blackguard!"He managed to slip past me, and made for the shore.

　　"Look at the thing from the standpoint of a philosopher, old horse,"urged Ukridge, splashing after him. "The fact that the rescue wasarranged oughtn't to matter. I mean to say, you didn't know it at thetime, so, relatively, it was not, and you were genuinely saved from awatery grave and all that sort of thing."I had not imagined Ukridge capable of such an excursion intometaphysics. I saw the truth of his line of argument so clearly thatit seemed to me impossible for anyone else to get confused over it. Ihad certainly pulled the professor out of the water, and the fact thatI had first caused him to be pushed in had nothing to do with thecase. Either a man is a gallant rescuer or he is not a gallantrescuer. There is no middle course. I had saved his life--for he wouldcertainly have drowned if left to himself--and I was entitled to hisgratitude. That was all there was to be said about it.

　　These things both Ukridge and I tried to make plain as we swam along.

　　But whether it was that the salt water he had swallowed had dulled theprofessor's normally keen intelligence or that our power of stating acase was too weak, the fact remains that he reached the beach anunconvinced man.

　　"Then may I consider," I said, "that your objections are removed? Ihave your consent?"He stamped angrily, and his bare foot came down on a small, sharppebble. With a brief exclamation he seized his foot in one hand andhopped up the beach. While hopping, he delivered his ultimatum.

　　Probably the only instance on record of a father adopting thisattitude in dismissing a suitor.

　　"You may not!" he cried. "You may consider no such thing. Myobjections were never more absolute. You detain me in the water, sir,till I am blue, sir, blue with cold, in order to listen to the mostpreposterous and impudent nonsense I ever heard."This was unjust. If he had listened attentively from the first andavoided interruptions and had not behaved like a submarine we shouldhave got through the business in half the time.

　　I said so.

　　"Don't talk to me, sir," he replied, hobbling off to his dressing-tent. "I will not listen to you. I will have nothing to do with you. Iconsider you impudent, sir.""I assure you it was unintentional.""Isch!" he said--being the first occasion and the last on which I haveever heard that remarkable monosyllable proceed from the mouth of aman. And he vanished into his tent.

　　"Laddie," said Ukridge solemnly, "do you know what I think?""Well?""You haven't clicked, old horse!" said Ukridge.