He shook my hand, and said he hoped my wife and I would be spared many years to enjoy it. My heart was too full to thank him; and, seeing my embarrassment, the good fellow said: “You need say nothing, Mr. Pooter,” and left the office. I sent telegrams to Carrie, Gowing, and Cummings (a thing I have never done before), and asked the two latter to come round to supper. On arriving home I found Carrie crying with joy, and I sent Sarah round to the grocer’s to get two bottles of “Jackson Frères.” My two dear friends came in the evening, and the last post brought a letter from Lupin in reply to mine. I read it aloud to them all. It ran: “My dear old Guv.,—Keep your hair on. You are on the wrong tack again. I am engaged to be married to ‘Lillie Girl.’ I did not mention it last Thursday, as it was not definitely settled. We shall be married in August, and amongst our guests we hope to see your old friends Gowing and Cummings. With much love to all, from _The same old Lupin_.”