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           Lupkin,ofSouthend,tellingusthetraintocomebyonSaturday,andhopingwewillkeepourpromisetostaywithher.Theletterconcluded:“Youmustcomeandstayatourhouse;weshallchargeyouhalfwhatyouwillhavetopayattheRoyal,andtheviewiseverybitasgood.”Lookingattheaddressatthetopofthenote-paper,Ifounditwas“Lupkin’sFamilyandCommercialHotel.”

           Iwroteanote,sayingwewerecompelledto“declineherkindinvitation.”Carriethoughtthisverysatirical,andtothepoint.

           By-the-by,Iwillneverchooseanotherclothpatternatnight.IorderedanewsuitofdittosforthegardenatEdwards’,andchosethepatternbygaslight,andtheyseemedtobeaquietpepper-and-saltmixturewithwhitestripesdown.Theycamehomethismorning,and,tomyhorror,Ifounditwasquiteaflash-lookingsuit.Therewasalotofgreenwithbrightyellow-colouredstripes.

           Itriedonthecoat,andwasannoyedtofindCarriegiggling.Shesaid:“Whatmixturedidyousayyouaskedfor?”

           Isaid:“Aquietpepperandsalt.”

           Carriesaid:“Well,itlooksmorelikemustard,ifyouwanttoknowthetruth.”