August 6, Bank Holiday.—­As there was no sign of Lupin moving at nine o’clock, I knocked at his door, and said we usually breakfasted at half-past eight, and asked how long would he be?  Lupin replied that he had had a lively time of it, first with the train shaking the house all night, and then with the sun streaming in through the window in his eyes, and giving him a cracking headache.  Carrie came up and asked if he would like some breakfast sent up, and he said he could do with a cup of tea, and didn’t want anything to eat.

Lupin not having come down, I went up again at half-past one, and said we dined at two; he said he “would be there.”  He never came down till a quarter to three.  I said:  “We have not seen much of you, and you will have to return by the 5.30 train; therefore you will have to leave in an hour, unless you go by the midnight mail.”  He said:  “Look here, Guv’nor, it’s no use beating about the bush.  I’ve tendered my resignation at the Bank.”

For a moment I could not speak.  When my speech came again, I said:  “How dare you, sir?  How dare you take such a serious step without consulting me?  Don’t answer me, sir!—­you will sit down immediately, and write a note at my dictation, withdrawing your resignation and amply apologising for your thoughtlessness.”

Imagine my dismay when he replied with a loud guffaw:  “It’s no use.  If you want the good old truth, I’ve got the chuck!”

August 7.—­Mr. Perkupp has given me leave to postpone my holiday a week, as we could not get the room.  This will give us an opportunity of trying to find an appointment for Willie before we go.  The ambition of my life would be to get him into Mr. Perkupp’s firm.

August 11.—­Although it is a serious matter having our boy Lupin on our hands, still it is satisfactory to know he was asked to resign from the Bank simply because “he took no interest in his work, and always arrived an hour (sometimes two hours) late.”  We can all start off on Monday to Broadstairs with a light heart.  This will take my mind off the worry of the last few days, which have been wasted over a useless correspondence with the manager of the Bank at Oldham.

August 13.—­Hurrah! at Broadstairs.  Very nice apartments near the station.  On the cliffs they would have been double the price.  The landlady had a nice five o’clock dinner and tea ready, which we all enjoyed, though Lupin seemed fastidious because there happened to be a fly in the butter.  It was very wet in the evening, for which I was thankful, as it was a good excuse for going to bed early.  Lupin said he would sit up and read a bit.

August 14.—­I was a little annoyed to find Lupin, instead of reading last night, had gone to a common sort of entertainment, given at the Assembly Rooms.  I expressed my opinion that such performances were unworthy of respectable patronage; but he replied:  “Oh, it was only ‘for one night only.’  I had a fit of the blues come on, and thought I would go to see Polly Presswell, England’s Particular Spark.”  I told him I was proud to say I had never heard of her.  Carrie said:  “Do let the boy alone.  He’s quite old enough to take care of himself, and won’t forget he’s a gentleman.  Remember, you were young once yourself.”  Rained all day hard, but Lupin would go out.