I concluded, rather neatly, by saying: “On an occasion like this—whether relatives, friends, or acquaintances,—we are all inspired with good feelings towards each other. We are of one mind, and think only of love and friendship. Those who have quarrelled with absent friends should kiss and make it up. Those who happily have not fallen out, can kiss all the same.” I saw the tears in the eyes of both Carrie and her mother, and must say I felt very flattered by the compliment. That dear old Reverend John Panzy Smith, who married us, made a most cheerful and amusing speech, and said he should act on my suggestion respecting the kissing. He then walked round the table and kissed all the ladies, including Carrie. Of course one did not object to this; but I was more than staggered when a young fellow named Moss, who was a stranger to me, and who had scarcely spoken a word through dinner, jumped up suddenly with a sprig of misletoe, and exclaimed: “Hulloh! I don’t see why I shouldn’t be on in this scene.” Before one could realise what he was about to do, he kissed Carrie and the rest of the ladies. Fortunately the matter was treated as a joke, and we all laughed; but it was a dangerous experiment, and I felt very uneasy for a moment as to the result. I subsequently referred to the matter to Carrie, but she said: “Oh, he’s not much more than a boy.” I said that he had a very large moustache for a boy. Carrie replied: “I didn’t say he was not a nice boy.” DECEMBER 26.—I did not sleep very well last night; I never do in a strange bed. I feel a little indigestion, which one must expect at this time of the year. Carrie and I returned to Town in the evening. Lupin came in late. He said he enjoyed his Christmas, and added: “I feel as fit as a Lowther Arcade fiddle, and only require a little more ‘oof’ to feel as fit as a £500 Stradivarius.” I have long since given up trying to understand Lupin’s slang, or asking him to explain it. DECEMBER 27.—I told Lupin I was expecting Gowing and Cummings to drop in to-morrow evening for a quiet game. I was in hope the boy would volunteer to stay in, and help to amuse them. Instead of which, he said: “Oh, you had better put them off, as I have asked Daisy and Frank Mutlar to come.” I said I could not think of doing such a thing. Lupin said: “Then I will send a wire, and put off Daisy.” I suggested that a post-card or letter would reach her quite soon enough, and would not be so extravagant. Carrie, who had listened to the above conversation with apparent annoyance, directed a well-aimed shaft at Lupin. She said: “Lupin, why do you object to Daisy meeting your father’s friends? Is it because they are not good enough for her, or (which is equally possible) _she_ is not good enough for them?” Lupin was dumbfounded, and could make no reply. When he left the room, I gave Carrie a kiss of approval.