What Ho!
"The problem is that Charles is just too sweet and innocent. He really doesn't have the mean spirited viciousness necessary to square a big deal (unlike SOME fathers I could mention).
"So, we're going to have him pretend to make a deal to finance my East End soup kitchen and orphanage, but we're really just going to ask a very dear old friend with the stuff to cough up, as it were." She looks at you with a nauseatingly winning look.
You know your cue "Oh, ah, quite so! Look, let me get dressed and I'll dash off down to the bank and pen off a draught. What do you need, a few hundred?" Really, now that you think of it, this is getting off lightly insofar as a Cuddy scheme goes.
"No, no, Petey you dunce. You can't just give him the money NOW!"
"Right ho, should I wait till this afternoon, then?"
"No, you have to pretend to be an entrepeneur, and haggle over the deal with Charles in front of Daddy, so Daddy can see that Charles can negotiate with the best of them (well with you, anyway). Then he'll welcome Charles as a fellow businessman, grant his blessing on our union, and THEN you can write the check for my orphanage."
"Oh, of course, silly me, should have realized all that. Hmmmm, if he smiles on the union, can't we just forgo the part where I write the rather large draught?"
"Petey......" she says threatenly.
"Well, fine, but don't expect me to spring for the fish slice, too," you say crossly.
"Anyhow," you continue "Where exactly is this little melodrama supposed to occur?"
"Oh," she says non-chalantly "Daddy's visiting some botanical buff in the country right now. He's just mad about begonias, ya know, and apparently this Lord Astley has got some blossom which is just the bee's knees."
"GHASTLEY Astley?" you quiver in shock.
"Well, that ain't what Daddy calls him, but Astley is his name, and he resides at Astley Manor. I'm sure he's forgotten about whatever it is that you're shaking over. Now, get packed."
You start to protest that it'll take a few days to get everything in order when the occasionally efficient Timpson waltzes in.
"Which as, I've taken the liberty of putting his Worship's traveling cases in Miss MacGillicuddy's boot," he says smugly.
Your shoulders slump in resignation.
"So, we're going to have him pretend to make a deal to finance my East End soup kitchen and orphanage, but we're really just going to ask a very dear old friend with the stuff to cough up, as it were." She looks at you with a nauseatingly winning look.
You know your cue "Oh, ah, quite so! Look, let me get dressed and I'll dash off down to the bank and pen off a draught. What do you need, a few hundred?" Really, now that you think of it, this is getting off lightly insofar as a Cuddy scheme goes.
"No, no, Petey you dunce. You can't just give him the money NOW!"
"Right ho, should I wait till this afternoon, then?"
"No, you have to pretend to be an entrepeneur, and haggle over the deal with Charles in front of Daddy, so Daddy can see that Charles can negotiate with the best of them (well with you, anyway). Then he'll welcome Charles as a fellow businessman, grant his blessing on our union, and THEN you can write the check for my orphanage."
"Oh, of course, silly me, should have realized all that. Hmmmm, if he smiles on the union, can't we just forgo the part where I write the rather large draught?"
"Petey......" she says threatenly.
"Well, fine, but don't expect me to spring for the fish slice, too," you say crossly.
"Anyhow," you continue "Where exactly is this little melodrama supposed to occur?"
"Oh," she says non-chalantly "Daddy's visiting some botanical buff in the country right now. He's just mad about begonias, ya know, and apparently this Lord Astley has got some blossom which is just the bee's knees."
"GHASTLEY Astley?" you quiver in shock.
"Well, that ain't what Daddy calls him, but Astley is his name, and he resides at Astley Manor. I'm sure he's forgotten about whatever it is that you're shaking over. Now, get packed."
You start to protest that it'll take a few days to get everything in order when the occasionally efficient Timpson waltzes in.
"Which as, I've taken the liberty of putting his Worship's traveling cases in Miss MacGillicuddy's boot," he says smugly.
Your shoulders slump in resignation.