The Diary of a Nobody | Page 5

against Mr. Stillbrook.
Afterwards, thinking the matter over, tore up the letters and determined
not to WRITE at all, but to SPEAK quietly to them. Dumfounded at
receiving a sharp letter from Cummings, saying that both he and
Gowing had been waiting for an explanation of MY (mind you, MY)
extraordinary conduct coming home on Sunday. At last I wrote: "I
thought I was the aggrieved party; but as I freely forgive you,
you--feeling yourself aggrieved--should bestow forgiveness on me." I
have copied this verbatim in the diary, because I think it is one of the
most perfect and thoughtful sentences I have ever written. I posted the
letter, but in my own heart I felt I was actually apologising for having
been insulted.
April 18.--Am in for a cold. Spent the whole day at the office sneezing.
In the evening, the cold being intolerable, sent Sarah out for a bottle of
Kinahan. Fell asleep in the arm-chair, and woke with the shivers. Was
startled by a loud knock at the front door. Carrie awfully flurried. Sarah
still out, so went up, opened the door, and found it was only Cummings.
Remembered the grocer's boy had again broken the side-bell.
Cummings squeezed my hand, and said: "I've just seen Gowing. All
right. Say no more about it." There is no doubt they are both under the
impression I have apologised.
While playing dominoes with Cummings in the parlour, he said: "By-
the-by, do you want any wine or spirits? My cousin Merton has just set
up in the trade, and has a splendid whisky, four years in bottle, at
thirty-eight shillings. It is worth your while laying down a few dozen of
it." I told him my cellars, which were very small, were full up. To my
horror, at that very moment, Sarah entered the room, and putting a
bottle of whisky, wrapped in a dirty piece of newspaper, on the table in
front of us, said: "Please, sir, the grocer says he ain't got no more
Kinahan, but you'll find this very good at two-and-six, with twopence
returned on the bottle; and, please, did you want any more sherry? as he
has some at one-and-three, as dry as a nut!"
CHAPTER III

A conversation with Mr. Merton on Society. Mr. and Mrs. James, of
Sutton, come up. A miserable evening at the Tank Theatre.
Experiments with enamel paint. I make another good joke; but Gowing
and Cummings are unnecessarily offended. I paint the bath red, with
unexpected result.
April 19.--Cummings called, bringing with him his friend Merton, who
is in the wine trade. Gowing also called. Mr. Merton made himself at
home at once, and Carrie and I were both struck with him immediately,
and thoroughly approved of his sentiments.
He leaned back in his chair and said: "You must take me as I am;" and I
replied: "Yes--and you must take us as we are. We're homely people,
we are not swells."
He answered: "No, I can see that," and Gowing roared with laughter;
but Merton in a most gentlemanly manner said to Gowing: "I don't
think you quite understand me. I intended to convey that our charming
host and hostess were superior to the follies of fashion, and preferred
leading a simple and wholesome life to gadding about to
twopenny-halfpenny tea-drinking afternoons, and living above their
incomes."
I was immensely pleased with these sensible remarks of Merton's, and
concluded that subject by saying: "No, candidly, Mr. Merton, we don't
go into Society, because we do not care for it; and what with the
expense of cabs here and cabs there, and white gloves and white ties,
etc., it doesn't seem worth the money."
Merton said in reference to FRIENDS: "My motto is 'Few and True;'
and, by the way, I also apply that to wine, 'Little and Good.'" Gowing
said: "Yes, and sometimes 'cheap and tasty,' eh, old man?" Merton, still
continuing, said he should treat me as a friend, and put me down for a
dozen of his "Lockanbar" whisky, and as I was an old friend of Gowing,
I should have it for 36s., which was considerably under what he paid
for it.

He booked his own order, and further said that at any time I wanted any
passes for the theatre I was to let him know, as his name stood good for
any theatre in London.
April 20.--Carrie reminded me that as her old school friend, Annie
Fullers (now Mrs. James), and her husband had come up from Sutton
for a few days, it would look kind to take them to the theatre, and
would I drop a line to Mr. Merton asking him for passes for four, either
for the Italian Opera, Haymarket, Savoy, or Lyceum. I wrote Merton to
that effect.
April 21.--Got