“I’ve never heard of him. Have you ever heard of him, Jeeves?”

“I am familiar with the name Bassington-Bassington, sir. There are three branches of the Bassington-Bassington family—the Shropshire Bassington-Bassingtons, the Hampshire Bassington-Bassingtons, and the Kent Bassington-Bassingtons.”

“England seems pretty well stocked up with Bassington-Bassingtons.”

“Tolerably so, sir.”

“No chance of a sudden shortage, I mean, what?”

“Presumably not, sir.”

“And what sort of a specimen is this one?”

“I could not say, sir, on such short acquaintance.”

“Will you give me a sporting two to one, Jeeves, judging from what you have seen of him, that this chappie is not a blighter or an excrescence?”

“No, sir. I should not care to venture such liberal odds.”

“I knew it. Well, the only thing that remains to be discovered is what kind of a blighter he is.”

“Time will tell, sir. The gentleman brought a letter for you, sir.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” I said, and grasped the communication. And then I recognised the handwriting. “I say, Jeeves, this is from my Aunt Agatha!”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Don’t dismiss it in that light way. Don’t you see what this means? She says she wants me to look after this excrescence while he’s in New York. By Jove, Jeeves, if I only fawn on him a bit, so that he sends back a favourable report to head-quarters, I may yet be able to get back to England in time for Goodwood. Now is certainly the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party, Jeeves. We must rally round and cosset this cove in no uncertain manner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He isn’t going to stay in New York long,” I said, taking another look at the letter. “He’s headed for Washington. Going to give the nibs there the once-over, apparently, before taking a whirl at the Diplomatic Service. I should say that we can win this lad’s esteem and affection with a lunch and a couple of 

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