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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
110
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.
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