The Journal of a Disappointed Man

"I fear I have come at an inconvenient time," I said, with a sardonic smile and strummed on the piano.... "I must really be off. Please read it (which sounded like 'three times a day after meals') and tell me how you like it. (Facetiously.) Of course don't give up your present manual for it, that would be foolish and unnecessary." ... I rambled on--disposed to be very playful. At last calmly and horribly, in a thoughtful voice she answered,-- "I think you are very rude; you play the piano after I asked you to stop and walk about just as if it were your own home." I remained outwardly calm but inwardly was very surprised and full of tremors. I said after a pause,-- "Very well, if you think so.... Good-bye." No answer; and I was too proud to apologise. "Good-bye," I repeated. She went on reading her novel in silence while I got as far as the door--very upset. "Au revoir." No answer. "Oh," said I, and went out of the room leaving my lady for good and all and I'm not sorry. In the passage met Miss ----. "What?" she said, "going already?" "Farewell," I said sepulchrally. "A very tragic farewell," which left her wondering. June 29. At the Albert Hall Went with R---- to the Albert Hall to the Empress of Ireland Memorial Concert with massed bands. We heard the Symphonie Pathétique, Chopin's Funeral March, Trauermarsch from Götterdammerung, the Ride of the Valkyries and a solemn melody from Bach.