Meet Teddy Finsworth, an old schoolfellow. We have a pleasant andquiet dinner at his uncle's, marred only by a few awkward mistakes on mypart respecting Mr. Finsworth's pictures. A discussion on dreams.

　　April 27. - Kept a little later than usual at the office, and as I washurrying along a man stopped me, saying: "Hulloh! That's a face Iknow." I replied politely: "Very likely; lots of people know me,although I may not know them." He replied: "But you know meTeddy Finsworth." So it was. He was at the same school with me. Ihad not seen him for years and years. No wonder I did not know him!

　　At school he was at least a head taller than I was; now I am at least a headtaller than he is, and he has a thick beard, almost grey. He insisted on myhaving a glass of wine (a thing I never do), and told me he lived atMiddlesboro', where he was Deputy Town Clerk, a position which was ashigh as the Town Clerk of London - in fact, higher. He added that he wasstaying for a few days in London, with his uncle, Mr. Edgar PaulFinsworth (of Finsworth and Pultwell). He said he was sure his unclewould be only too pleased to see me, and he had a nice house, WatneyLodge, only a few minutes' walk from Muswell Hill Station. I gave himour address, and we parted.

　　In the evening, to my surprise, he called with a very nice letter fromMr. Finsworth, saying if we (including Carrie) would dine with them tomorrow (Sunday), at two o'clock, he would be delighted. Carrie did notlike to go; but Teddy Finsworth pressed us so much we consented.

　　Carrie sent Sarah round to the butcher's and countermanded our half-leg ofmutton, which we had ordered for to- morrow.

　　April 28, Sunday. - We found Watney Lodge farther off than weanticipated, and only arrived as the clock struck two, both feeling hot anduncomfortable. To make matters worse, a large collie dog pouncedforward to receive us. He barked loudly and jumped up at Carrie,covering her light skirt, which she was wearing for the first time, with mud. Teddy Finsworth came out and drove the dog off and apologised.

　　We were shown into the drawing-room, which was beautifully decorated.

　　It was full of knick-knacks, and some plates hung up on the wall. Therewere several little wooden milk- stools with paintings on them; also awhite wooden banjo, painted by one of Mr. Paul Finsworth's nieces - acousin of Teddy's.

　　Mr. Paul Finsworth seemed quite a distinguished-looking elderlygentleman, and was most gallant to Carrie. There were a great manywater-colours hanging on the walls, mostly different views of India, whichwere very bright. Mr. Finsworth said they were painted by "Simpz," andadded that he was no judge of pictures himself but had been informed ongood authority that they were worth some hundreds of pounds, althoughhe had only paid a few shillings apiece for them, frames included, at a salein the neighbourhood.

　　There was also a large picture in a very handsome frame, done incoloured crayons. It looked like a religious subject. I was very muchstruck with the lace collar, it looked so real, but I unfortunately made theremark that there was something about the expression of the face that wasnot quite pleasing. It looked pinched. Mr. Finsworth sorrowfullyreplied: "Yes, the face was done after death - my wife's sister."I felt terribly awkward and bowed apologetically, and in a whisper saidI hoped I had not hurt his feelings. We both stood looking at the picturefor a few minutes in silence, when Mr. Finsworth took out a handkerchiefand said: "She was sitting in our garden last summer," and blew his noseviolently. He seemed quite affected, so I turned to look at something elseand stood in front of a portrait of a jolly-looking middle-aged gentleman,with a red face and straw hat. I said to Mr. Finsworth: "Who is thisjovial-looking gentleman? Life doesn't seem to trouble him much." Mr.

　　Finsworth said: "No, it doesn't. HE IS DEAD TOO - my brother."I was absolutely horrified at my own awkwardness. Fortunately atthis moment Carrie entered with Mrs. Fi............