“Why, I posted a letter to you in the morning announcing that the party was ‘off, very much off.’” I said:  “I never got it.”  Gowing, turning to Carrie, said:  “I suppose letters sometimes miscarry, don’t they, Mrs. Carrie?” Cummings sharply said:  “This is not a time for joking.  I had no notice of the party being put off.”  Gowing replied:  “I told Pooter in my note to tell you, as I was in a hurry.  However, I’ll inquire at the post-office, and we must meet again at my place.”  I added that I hoped he would be present at the next meeting.  Carrie roared at this, and even Cummings could not help laughing.

February 10, Sunday.—­Contrary to my wishes, Carrie allowed Lupin to persuade her to take her for a drive in the afternoon in his trap.  I quite disapprove of driving on a Sunday, but I did not like to trust Carrie alone with Lupin, so I offered to go too.  Lupin said:  “Now, that is nice of you, Guv., but you won’t mind sitting on the back-seat of the cart?”

Lupin proceeded to put on a bright-blue coat that seemed miles too large for him.  Carrie said it wanted taking in considerably at the back.  Lupin said:  “Haven’t you seen a box-coat before?  You can’t drive in anything else.”

He may wear what he likes in the future, for I shall never drive with him again.  His conduct was shocking.  When we passed Highgate Archway, he tried to pass everything and everybody.  He shouted to respectable people who were walking quietly in the road to get out of the way; he flicked at the horse of an old man who was riding, causing it to rear; and, as I had to ride backwards, I was compelled to face a gang of roughs in a donkey-cart, whom Lupin had chaffed, and who turned and followed us for nearly a mile, bellowing, indulging in coarse jokes and laughter, to say nothing of occasionally pelting us with orange-peel.

Lupin’s excuse—­that the Prince of Wales would have to put up with the same sort of thing if he drove to the Derby—­was of little consolation to either Carrie or myself.  Frank Mutlar called in the evening, and Lupin went out with him.

February 11.—­Feeling a little concerned about Lupin, I mustered up courage to speak to Mr. Perkupp about him.  Mr. Perkupp has always been most kind to me, so I told him everything, including yesterday’s adventure.  Mr. Perkupp kindly replied:  “There is no necessity for you to be anxious, Mr. Pooter.  It would be impossible for a son of such good parents to turn out erroneously.  Remember he is young, and will soon get older.  I wish we could find room for him in this firm.”  The advice of this good man takes loads off my mind.  In the evening Lupin came in.