that caused Freddie at this point to burst into discordant song.
He splashed and warbled simultaneously.

Lord Emsworth's frown deepened and he began to tap his fingers
together irritably. Then his brow cleared and a pleased smile
flickered over his face. He, too, had remembered.

What Lord Emsworth remembered was this: Late in the previous
autumn the next estate to Blandings had been rented by an
American, a Mr. Peters--a man with many millions, chronic
dyspepsia, and one fair daughter--Aline. The two families had
met. Freddie and Aline had been thrown together; and, only a few
days before, the engagement had been announced. And for Lord
Emsworth the only flaw in this best of all possible worlds had
been removed.

Yes, he was glad Freddie was engaged to be married to Aline
Peters. He liked Aline. He liked Mr. Peters. Such was the relief
he experienced that he found himself feeling almost affectionate
toward Freddie, who emerged from the bathroom at this moment,
clad in a pink bathrobe, to find the paternal wrath evaporated,
and all, so to speak, right with the world.

Nevertheless, he wasted no time about his dressing. He was always
ill at ease in his father's presence and he wished to be
elsewhere with all possible speed. He sprang into his trousers
with such energy that he nearly tripped himself up. As he
disentangled himself he recollected something that had slipped
his memory.