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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
45
I
asked
Carrie
if
she
knew
anything
about
it.
She
replied
it
was
my
own
fault
for
leaving
the
diary
about
with
a
charwoman
cleaning
and
the
sweeps
in
the
house.
I
said
that
was
not
an
answer
to
my
question.
This
retort
of
mine,
which
I
thought
extremely
smart,
would
have
been
more
effective
had
I
not
jogged
my
elbow
against
a
vase
on
a
table
temporarily
placed
in
the
passage,
knocked
it
over,
and
smashed
it.
Carrie
was
dreadfully
upset
at
this
disaster,
for
it
was
one
of
a
pair
of
vases
which
cannot
be
matched,
given
to
us
on
our
wedding-day
by
Mrs.
Burtsett,
an
old
friend
of
Carrie’s
cousins,
the
Pommertons,
late
of
Dalston.
I
called
to
Sarah,
and
asked
her
about
the
diary.
She
said
she
had
not
been
in
the
sitting-room
at
all;
after
the
sweep
had
left,
Mrs.
Birrell
(the
charwoman)
had
cleaned
the
room
and
lighted
the
fire
herself.
Finding
a
burnt
piece
of
paper
in
the
grate,
I
examined
it,
and
found
it
was
a
piece
of
my
diary.
So
it
was
evident
some
one
had
torn
my
diary
to
light
the
fire.
I
requested
Mrs.
Birrell
to
be
sent
to
me
to-morrow.
OCTOBER
31.—
Received
a
letter
from
our
principal,
Mr.
Perkupp,
saying
that
he
thinks
he
knows
of
a
place
at
last
for
our
dear
boy
Lupin.
This,
in
a
measure,
consoles
me
for
the
loss
of
a
portion
of
my
diary;
for
I
am
bound
to
confess
the
last
few
weeks
have
been
devoted
to
the
record
of
disappointing
answers
received
from
people
to
whom
I
have
applied
for
appointments
for
Lupin.
Mrs.
Birrell
called,
and,
in
reply
to
me,
said:
“She
never
see
no
book,
much
less
take
such
a
liberty
as
touch
it.”
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