Gloom lies like a mantle over the Mammoth Publishing Company, heaviest in the office of the proprietor, Lord Tilbury. On his desk lies a letter, brief but blasting: "Dear Sir: Enclosed find cheque for the advance you paid me on those Reminiscences of mine. I have been thinking it over and have decided not to publish them after all. Yours truly, G. Threepwood." Oddly enough, there are men in England who would whoop with joy at the sight of that letter. To them it would be like an announcement that the Recording Angel has burned his books. But not Lord Tilbury. Dismayed but not conceding defeat, Lord Tilbury sets about retrieving his fortunes, little knowing that he is toying with the happiness of Sue Brown and Ronnie Fish, foreseeing not at all that his wiles will lead him into situations most distressing for a newly-made peer, never guessing that his final obstacle will be the rotund form of the Empress of Blandings, Lord Emsworth's prize pig.