The Coming of Bill

by P. G. Wodehouse

Everything had changed. He was no longer the centre of Ruth’s life. He was just an encumbrance, a nuisance who could not be got rid of and must remain a permanent handicap, always in the way.

So thought Kirk morbidly as the automobile passed through the silent streets. It must be remembered that he had been extremely bored for a solid three hours, and was predisposed, consequently, to gloomy thoughts.

Whatever his faults, Kirk rarely whined. He had never felt so miserable in his life, but he tried to infuse a tone of lightness into the conversation. After all, if Ruth’s intuition fell short of enabling her to understand his feelings, nothing was to be gained by parading them.

“I guess it’s my fault,” he said, “that I haven’t got abreast of the society game as yet. You had better give me a few pointers. My trouble is that, being new to them, I can’t tell whether these people are types or exceptions. Take Clarence Grayling, for instance. Are there any more at home like Clarence?”

“My dear child, all Bailey’s special friends are like Clarence, exactly like. I remember telling him so once.”

“Who was the specimen with the little black moustache who thought America crude and said that the only place to live in was southern Italy? Is he an isolated case or an epidemic?”

“He is scarcer than Clarence, but he’s quite a well-marked type. He is the millionaire’s son who has done Europe and doesn’t mean you to forget it.”

“There was a chesty person with a wave of hair coming down over his forehead. A sickeningly handsome fellow who looked like a poet. I think they called him Basil. Does he run around in flocks, or is he unique?”

Ruth did not reply for a moment. Basil Milbank was a part of the past which, in the year during which Kirk had been away, had come rather startlingly to life.

There had been a time when Basil had been very near and important to her. Indeed, but for the intervention of Mrs. Porter, described in an earlier passage, she would certainly have married Basil. Then Kirk had crossed her path and had monopolized her. During the studio period the recollection of Basil had grown faint. After that, just at the moment when Kirk was not there to lend her strength, he had come back into her life. For nearly a year she had seen him daily; and gradually—at first almost with fear—she had realized that the old fascination was by no means such a thing of the past as she had supposed.