Reflections. I make another Good Joke. Am annoyed at the constant
serving-up of the “Blanc-Mange.” Lupin expresses his opinion of
Weddings. Lupin falls out with Daisy Mutlar.
NOVEMBER 16.—Woke about twenty times during the night, with terrible
thirst. Finished off all the water in the bottle, as well as half that
in the jug. Kept dreaming also, that last night’s party was a failure,
and that a lot of low people came without invitation, and kept chaffing
and throwing things at Mr. Perkupp, till at last I was obliged to hide
him in the box-room (which we had just discovered), with a bath-towel
over him. It seems absurd now, but it was painfully real in the dream.
I had the same dream about a dozen times.
Carrie annoyed me by saying: “You know champagne never agrees with you.”
I told her I had only a couple of glasses of it, having kept myself
entirely to port. I added that good champagne hurt nobody, and Lupin
told me he had only got it from a traveller as a favour, as that
particular brand had been entirely bought up by a West-End club.
I think I ate too heartily of the “side dishes,” as the waiter called
them. I said to Carrie: “I wish I had put those ‘side dishes’ _aside_.”
I repeated this, but Carrie was busy, packing up the teaspoons we had
borrowed of Mrs. Cummings for the party. It was just half-past eleven,
and I was starting for the office, when Lupin appeared, with a yellow
complexion, and said: “Hulloh! Guv., what priced head have you this
morning?” I told him he might just as well speak to me in Dutch. He
added: “When I woke this morning, my head was as big as Baldwin’s
balloon.” On the spur of the moment I said the cleverest thing I think I
have ever said; viz.: “Perhaps that accounts for the para_shooting_
pains.” We roared.
NOVEMBER 17.—Still feel tired and headachy! In the evening Gowing
called, and was full of praise about our party last Wednesday. He said
everything was done beautifully, and he enjoyed himself enormously.
Gowing can be a very nice fellow when he likes, but you never know how
long it will last. For instance, he stopped to supper, and seeing some
_blanc-mange_ on the table, shouted out, while the servant was in the
room: “Hulloh! The remains of Wednesday?”
NOVEMBER 18.—Woke up quite fresh after a good night’s rest, and feel
quite myself again. I am satisfied a life of going-out and Society is
not a life for me; we therefore declined the invitation which we received
this morning to Miss Bird’s wedding. We only met her twice at Mrs.
James’, and it means a present. Lupin said: “I am with you for once. To
my mind a wedding’s a very poor play. There are only two parts in it—the
bride and bridegroom. The best man is only a walking gentleman. With
the exception of a crying father and a snivelling mother, the rest are
_supers_ who have to dress well and have to _pay_ for their insignificant
parts in the shape of costly presents.” I did not care for the
theatrical slang, but thought it clever, though disrespectful.
I told Sarah not to bring up the _blanc-mange_ again for breakfast. It
seems to have been placed on our table at every meal since Wednesday.
Cummings came round in the evening, and congratulated us on the success
of our party. He said it was the best party he had been to for many a
year; but he wished we had let him know it was full dress, as he would
have turned up in his swallow-tails. We sat down to a quiet game of
dominoes, and were interrupted by the noisy entrance of Lupin and Frank
Mutlar. Cummings and I asked them to join us. Lupin said he did not
care for dominoes, and suggested a game of “Spoof.” On my asking if it
required counters, Frank and Lupin in measured time said: “One, two,
three; go! Have you an estate in Greenland?” It was simply Greek to me,
but it appears it is one of the customs of the “Holloway Comedians” to do
this when a member displays ignorance.
In spite of my instructions, that _blanc-mange_ was brought up again for
supper. To make matters worse, there had been an attempt to disguise it,
by placing it in a glass dish with jam round it. Carrie asked Lupin if
he would have some, and he replied: “No second-hand goods for me, thank
you.” I told Carrie, when we were alone, if that _blanc-mange_ were
placed on the table again I should walk out of the house.
NOVEMBER 19, Sunday.—A delightfully quiet day. In the afternoon Lupin
was off to spend the rest of the day with the Mutlars. He departed in
the best of spirits, and Carrie said: “Well, one advantage of Lupin’s
engagement with Daisy is that the boy seems happy all day long. That
quite reconciles me to what I must confess seems an imprudent
engagement.”
Carrie and I talked the matter over during the evening, and agreed that
it did not always follow that an early engagement meant an unhappy
marriage. Dear Carrie reminded me that we married early, and, with the
exception of a few trivial misunderstandings, we had never had a really
serious word. I could not help thinking (as I told her) that half the
pleasures of life were derived from the little struggles and small
privations that one had to endure at the beginning of one’s married life.
Such struggles were generally occasioned by want of means, and often
helped to make loving couples stand together all the firmer.
Carrie said I had expressed myself wonderfully well, and that I was quite
a philosopher.
We are all vain at times, and I must confess I felt flattered by Carrie’s
little compliment. I don’t pretend to be able to express myself in fine
language, but I feel I have the power of expressing my thoughts with
simplicity and lucidness. About nine o’clock, to our surprise, Lupin
entered, with a wild, reckless look, and in a hollow voice, which I must
say seemed rather theatrical, said: “Have you any brandy?” I said: “No;
but here is some whisky.” Lupin drank off nearly a wineglassful without
water, to my horror.
We all three sat reading in silence till ten, when Carrie and I rose to
go to bed. Carrie said to Lupin: “I hope Daisy is well?”
Lupin, with a forced careless air that he must have picked up from the
“Holloway Comedians,” replied: “Oh, Daisy? You mean Miss Mutlar. I
don’t know whether she is well or not, but please _never to mention her
name again in my presence_.”