Lupin leaves us. We dine at his new apartments, and hear some extraordinary information respecting the wealth of Mr. Murray Posh.
Meet Miss Lilian Posh. Am sent for by Mr. Hardfur Huttle.
Important.
July 1. - I find, on looking over my diary, nothing of any consequence has taken place during the last month. To-day we lose Lupin, who has taken furnished apartments at Bayswater, near his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Murray Posh, at two guineas a week. I think this is most extravagant of him, as it is half his salary. Lupin says one never loses by a good address, and, to use his own expression, Brickfield Terrace is a bit "off." Whether he means it is "far off" I do not know. I have long since given up trying to understand his curious expressions. I said the neighbourhood had always been good enough for his parents. His reply was: "It is no question of being good or bad. There is no money in it, and I am not going to rot away my life in the suburbs."
We are sorry to lose him, but perhaps he will get on better by himself, and there may be some truth in his remark that an old and a young horse can't pull together in the same cart.
Gowing called, and said that the house seemed quite peaceful, and like old times. He liked Master Lupin very well, but he occasionally suffered from what he could not help - youth.
July 2. - Cummings called, looked very pale, and said he had been very ill again, and of course not a single friend had been near him. Carrie said she had never heard of it, whereupon he threw down a copy of the BICYCLE NEWS on the table, with the following paragraph: "We regret to hear that that favourite old roadster, Mr. Cummings ('Long' Cummings), has met with what might have been a serious accident in Rye Lane. A mischievous boy threw a stick between the spokes of one of the back wheels, and the machine overturned, bringing our brother tricyclist heavily to the ground.
Fortunately he was more frightened than hurt, but we missed his merry face at the dinner at Chingford, where they turned up in good numbers. 'Long' Cummings' health was proposed by our popular Vice, Mr. Westropp, the prince of bicyclists, who in his happiest vein said it was a case of 'CUMMING(s) thro' the RYE, but fortunately there was more WHEEL than WOE,' a joke which created roars of laughter."
We all said we were very sorry, and pressed Cummings to stay to supper. Cummings said it was like old times being without Lupin, and he was much better away.
July 3, Sunday. - In the afternoon, as I was looking out of the parlour window, which was open, a grand trap, driven by a lady, with a gentleman seated by the side of her, stopped at our door.
Not wishing to be seen, I withdrew my head very quickly, knocking the back of it violently against the sharp edge of the window-sash.
I was nearly stunned. There was a loud double-knock at the front door; Carrie rushed out of the parlour, upstairs to her room, and I followed, as Carrie thought it was Mr. Perkupp. I thought it was Mr. Franching. - I whispered to Sarah over the banisters: "Show them into the drawing-room." Sarah said, as the shutters were not opened, the room would smell musty. There was another loud rat- tat. I whispered: "Then show them into the parlour, and say Mr.
Pooter will be down directly." I changed my coat, but could not see to do my hair, as Carrie was occupying the glass.
Sarah came up, and said it was Mrs. Murray Posh and Mr. Lupin.
This was quite a relief. I went down with Carrie, and Lupin met me with the remark: "I say, what did you run away from the window for? Did we frighten you?"
I foolishly said: "What window?"
Lupin said: "Oh, you know. Shut it. You looked as if you were playing at Punch and Judy."
On Carrie asking if she could offer them anything, Lupin said:
"Oh, I think Daisy will take on a cup of tea. I can do with a B. and S."
I said: "I am afraid we have no soda."
Lupin said: "Don't bother about that. You just trip out and hold the horse; I don't think Sarah understands it."
They stayed a very short time, and as they were leaving, Lupin said: "I want you both to come and dine with me next Wednesday, and see my new place. Mr. and Mrs. Murray Posh, Miss Posh (Murray's sister) are coming. Eight o'clock sharp. No one else."
I said we did not pretend to be fashionable people, and would like the dinner earlier, as it made it so late before we got home.
Lupin said: "Rats! You must get used to it. If it comes to that, Daisy and I can drive you home."
We promised to go; but I must say in my simple mind the familiar way in which Mrs. Posh and Lupin addressed each other is reprehensible. Anybody would think they had been children together. I certainly should object to a six months' acquaintance calling MY wife "Carrie," and driving out with her.
