Diary fiction; England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Men -- England -- Fiction; Middle class -- Fiction; Suburban life -- Fiction
NOVEMBER 21.—Lupin turned up for a few minutes in the evening. He asked
for a drop of brandy with a sort of careless look, which to my mind was
theatrical and quite ineffective. I said: “My boy, I have none, and I
don’t think I should give it you if I had.” Lupin said: “I’ll go where I
can get some,” and walked out of the house. Carrie took the boy’s part,
and the rest of the evening was spent in a disagreeable discussion, in
which the words “Daisy” and “Mutlar” must have occurred a thousand times.
NOVEMBER 22.—Gowing and Cummings dropped in during the evening. Lupin
also came in, bringing his friend, Mr. Burwin-Fosselton—one of the
“Holloway Comedians”—who was at our party the other night, and who
cracked our little round table. Happy to say Daisy Mutlar was never
referred to. The conversation was almost entirely monopolised by the
young fellow Fosselton, who not only looked rather like Mr. Irving, but
seemed to imagine that he _was_ the celebrated actor. I must say he gave
some capital imitations of him. As he showed no signs of moving at
supper time, I said: “If you like to stay, Mr. Fosselton, for our usual
crust—pray do.” He replied: “Oh! thanks; but please call me
Burwin-Fosselton. It is a double name. There are lots of Fosseltons,
but please call me Burwin-Fosselton.”
He began doing the Irving business all through supper. He sank so low
down in his chair that his chin was almost on a level with the table, and
twice he kicked Carrie under the table, upset his wine, and flashed a
knife uncomfortably near Gowing’s face. After supper he kept stretching
out his legs on the fender, indulging in scraps of quotations from plays
which were Greek to me, and more than once knocked over the fire-irons,
making a hideous row—poor Carrie already having a bad headache.
When he went, he said, to our surprise: “I will come to-morrow and bring
my Irving make-up.” Gowing and Cummings said they would like to see it
and would come too. I could not help thinking they might as well give a
party at my house while they are about it. However, as Carrie sensibly
said: “Do anything, dear, to make Lupin forget the Daisy Mutlar
business.”
NOVEMBER 23.—In the evening, Cummings came early. Gowing came a little
later and brought, without asking permission, a fat and, I think, very
vulgar-looking man named Padge, who appeared to be all moustache. Gowing
never attempted any apology to either of us, but said Padge wanted to see
the Irving business, to which Padge said: “That’s right,” and that is
about all he _did_ say during the entire evening. Lupin came in and
seemed in much better spirits. He had prepared a bit of a surprise. Mr.
Burwin-Fosselton had come in with him, but had gone upstairs to get
ready. In half-an-hour Lupin retired from the parlour, and returning in
a few minutes, announced “Mr. Henry Irving.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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