I said:  “I’m very sorry.  I dare say it will come off.  I did it for the best.”

Gowing said:  “Then all I can say is, it’s a confounded liberty; and I would add, you’re a bigger fool than you look, only that’s absolutely impossible.”

May 12.—­Got a single copy of the Blackfriars Bi-weekly News.  There was a short list of several names they had omitted; but the stupid people had mentioned our names as “Mr. and Mrs. C. Porter.”  Most annoying!  Wrote again and I took particular care to write our name in capital letters, Pooter, so that there should be no possible mistake this time.

May 16.—­Absolutely disgusted on opening the Blackfriars Bi-weekly News of to-day, to find the following paragraph:  “We have received two letters from Mr. and Mrs. Charles Pewter, requesting us to announce the important fact that they were at the Mansion House Ball.”  I tore up the paper and threw it in the waste-paper basket.  My time is far too valuable to bother about such trifles.

May 21.—­The last week or ten days terribly dull, Carrie being away at Mrs. James’s, at Sutton.  Cummings also away.  Gowing, I presume, is still offended with me for black enamelling his stick without asking him.

May 22.—­Purchased a new stick mounted with silver, which cost seven-and-sixpence (shall tell Carrie five shillings), and sent it round with nice note to Gowing.

May 23.—­Received strange note from Gowing; he said:  “Offended? not a bit, my boy—­I thought you were offended with me for losing my temper.  Besides, I found after all, it was not my poor old uncle’s stick you painted.  It was only a shilling thing I bought at a tobacconist’s.  However, I am much obliged to you for your handsome present all same.”

May 24.—­Carrie back.  Hoorah!  She looks wonderfully well, except that the sun has caught her nose.

May 25.—­Carrie brought down some of my shirts and advised me to take them to Trillip’s round the corner.  She said:  “The fronts and cuffs are much frayed.”  I said without a moment’s hesitation:  “I’m ’frayed they are.”  Lor! how we roared.  I thought we should never stop laughing.  As I happened to be sitting next the driver going to town on the ’bus, I told him my joke about the “frayed” shirts.  I thought he would have rolled off his seat.  They laughed at the office a good bit too over it.

May 26.—­Left the shirts to be repaired at Trillip’s.  I said to him:  “I’m ’FRAID they are frayed.”  He said, without a smile:  “They’re bound to do that, sir.”  Some people seem to be quite destitute of a sense of humour.

June 1.—­The last week has been like old times, Carrie being back, and Gowing and Cummings calling every evening nearly.  Twice we sat out in the garden quite late.  This evening we were like a pack of children, and played “consequences.”  It is a good game.

June 2.—­“Consequences” again this evening.  Not quite so successful as last night; Gowing having several times overstepped the limits of good taste.