APRIL 22.—I have of late frequently noticed Carrie rubbing her nails a good deal with an instrument, and on asking her what she was doing, she replied: “Oh, I’m going in for manicuring. It’s all the fashion now.” I said: “I suppose Mrs. James introduced that into your head.” Carrie laughingly replied: “Yes; but everyone does it now.” I wish Mrs. James wouldn’t come to the house. Whenever she does she always introduces some new-fandangled rubbish into Carrie’s head. One of these days I feel sure I shall tell her she’s not welcome. I am sure it was Mrs. James who put Carrie up to writing on dark slate-coloured paper with white ink. Nonsense! APRIL 23.—Received a letter from Mrs. Lupkin, of Southend, telling us the train to come by on Saturday, and hoping we will keep our promise to stay with her. The letter concluded: “You must come and stay at our house; we shall charge you half what you will have to pay at the Royal, and the view is every bit as good.” Looking at the address at the top of the note-paper, I found it was “Lupkin’s Family and Commercial Hotel.” I wrote a note, saying we were compelled to “decline her kind invitation.” Carrie thought this very satirical, and to the point. By-the-by, I will never choose another cloth pattern at night. I ordered a new suit of dittos for the garden at Edwards’, and chose the pattern by gaslight, and they seemed to be a quiet pepper-and-salt mixture with white stripes down. They came home this morning, and, to my horror, I found it was quite a flash-looking suit. There was a lot of green with bright yellow-coloured stripes. I tried on the coat, and was annoyed to find Carrie giggling. She said: “What mixture did you say you asked for?” I said: “A quiet pepper and salt.” Carrie said: “Well, it looks more like mustard, if you want to know the truth.” CHAPTER XIX Meet Teddy Finsworth, an old schoolfellow. We have a pleasant and quiet dinner at his uncle’s, marred only by a few awkward mistakes on my part respecting Mr. Finsworth’s pictures. A discussion on dreams.