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
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
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.