I replied: “Yes, sir; I love my house and I love the neighbourhood, and could not bear to leave it.”

Mr. Perkupp, to my surprise, said: “Mr. Pooter, I will purchase the freehold of that house, and present it to the most honest and most worthy man it has ever been my lot to meet.”

He shook my hand, and said he hoped my wife and I would be spared many years to enjoy it.  My heart was too full to thank him; and, seeing my embarrassment, the good fellow said: “You need say nothing, Mr. Pooter,” and left the office.

I sent telegrams to Carrie, Gowing, and Cummings (a thing I have never done before), and asked the two latter to come round to supper.

On arriving home I found Carrie crying with joy, and I sent Sarah round to the grocer’s to get two bottles of “Jackson Frères.”

My two dear friends came in the evening, and the last post brought a letter from Lupin in reply to mine.  I read it aloud to them all.  It ran: “My dear old Guv.,—Keep your hair on.  You are on the wrong tack again.  I am engaged to be married to ‘Lillie Girl.’  I did not mention it last Thursday, as it was not definitely settled.  We shall be married in August, and amongst our guests we hope to see your old friends Gowing and Cummings.  With much love to all, from The same old Lupin.”

We were introduced to Miss Posh, whom Lupin called “Little Girl,” as if he had known her all his life.  She was very tall, rather plain, and I thought she was a little painted round the eyes.  I hope I am wrong; but she had such fair hair, and yet her eyebrows were black.  She looked about thirty.  I did not like the way she kept giggling and giving Lupin smacks and pinching him.  Then her laugh was a sort of a scream that went right through my ears, all the more irritating because there was nothing to laugh at.  In fact, Carrie and I were not at all prepossessed with her.  They all smoked cigarettes after dinner, including Miss Posh, who startled Carrie by saying: “Don’t you smoke, dear?”  I answered for Carrie, and said: “Mrs. Charles Pooter has not arrived at it yet,” whereupon Miss Posh gave one of her piercing laughs again.

Mrs. Posh sang a dozen songs at least, and I can only repeat what I have said before—she does not sing in tune; but Lupin sat by the side of the piano, gazing into her eyes the whole time.  If I had been Mr. Posh, I think I should have had something to say about it.  Mr. Posh made himself very agreeable to us, and eventually sent us home in his carriage, which I thought most kind.  He is evidently very rich, for Mrs. Posh had on some beautiful jewellery.  She told Carrie her necklace, which her husband gave her as a birthday present, alone cost £300.

Mr. Posh said he had a great belief in Lupin, and thought he would make rapid way in the world.

I could not help thinking of the £600 Mr. Posh lost over the Parachikka Chlorates through Lupin’s advice.

During the evening I had an opportunity to speak to Lupin, and expressed a hope that Mr. Posh was not living beyond his means.

Lupin sneered, and said Mr. Posh was worth thousands.  “Posh’s one-price hat” was a household word in Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and all the big towns throughout England.  Lupin further informed me that Mr. Posh was opening branch establishments at New York, Sydney, and Melbourne, and was negotiating for Kimberley and Johannesburg.

I said I was pleased to hear it.

Lupin said: “Why, he has settled over £10,000 on Daisy, and the same amount on ‘Lillie Girl.’  If at any time I wanted a little capital, he would put up a couple of ‘thou’ at a day’s notice, and could buy up Perkupp’s firm over his head at any moment with ready cash.”

On the way home in the carriage, for the first time in my life, I was inclined to indulge in the radical thought that money was not properly divided.

On arriving home at a quarter-past eleven, we found a hansom cab, which had been waiting for me for two hours with a letter.  Sarah said she did not know what to do, as we had not left the address where we had gone.  I trembled as I opened the letter, fearing it was some bad news about Mr. Perkupp.  The note was: “Dear Mr. Pooter,—Come down to the Victoria Hotel without delay.  Important.  Yours truly, Hardfur Huttle.”

I asked the cabman if it was too late.  The cabman replied that it was not; for his instructions were, if I happened to be out, he was to wait till I came home.  I felt very tired, and really wanted to go to bed.  I reached the hotel at a quarter before midnight.  I apologised for being so late, but Mr. Huttle said: “Not at all; come and have a few oysters.”  I feel my heart beating as I write these words.  To be brief, Mr. Huttle said he had a rich American friend who wanted to do something large in our line of business, and that Mr. Franching had mentioned my name to him.  We talked over the matter.  If, by any happy chance, the result be successful, I can more than compensate my dear master for the loss of Mr. Crowbillon’s custom.  Mr. Huttle had previously said: “The glorious ‘Fourth’ is a lucky day for America, and, as it has not yet struck twelve, we will celebrate it with a glass of the best wine to be had in the place, and drink good luck to our bit of business.”

I fervently hope it will bring good luck to us all.

It was two o’clock when I got home.  Although I was so tired, I could not sleep except for short intervals—then only to dream.

I kept dreaming of Mr. Perkupp and Mr. Huttle.  The latter was in a lovely palace with a crown on.  Mr. Perkupp was waiting in the room.  Mr. Huttle kept taking off this crown and handing it to me, and calling me “President.”

He appeared to take no notice of Mr. Perkupp, and I kept asking Mr. Huttle to give the crown to my worthy master.  Mr. Huttle kept saying: “No, this is the White House of Washington, and you must keep your crown, Mr. President.”

We all laughed long and very loudly, till I got parched, and then I woke up.  I fell asleep, only to dream the same thing over and over again.

Sarah came up, and said it was Mrs. Murray Posh and Mr. Lupin.

This was quite a relief.  I went down with Carrie, and Lupin met me with the remark: “I say, what did you run away from the window for?  Did we frighten you?”

I foolishly said: “What window?”

Lupin said: “Oh, you know.  Shut it.  You looked as if you were playing at Punch and Judy.”

On Carrie asking if she could offer them anything, Lupin said: “Oh, I think Daisy will take on a cup of tea.  I can do with a B. and S.”

I said: “I am afraid we have no soda.”

Lupin said: “Don’t bother about that.  You just trip out and hold the horse; I don’t think Sarah understands it.”

They stayed a very short time, and as they were leaving, Lupin said: “I want you both to come and dine with me next Wednesday, and see my new place.  Mr. and Mrs. Murray Posh, Miss Posh (Murray’s sister) are coming.  Eight o’clock sharp.  No one else.”

I said we did not pretend to be fashionable people, and would like the dinner earlier, as it made it so late before we got home.

Lupin said: “Rats!  You must get used to it.  If it comes to that, Daisy and I can drive you home.”

We promised to go; but I must say in my simple mind the familiar way in which Mrs. Posh and Lupin addressed each other is reprehensible.  Anybody would think they had been children together.  I certainly should object to a six months’ acquaintance calling my wife “Carrie,” and driving out with her.

We all said we were very sorry, and pressed Cummings to stay to supper.  Cummings said it was like old times being without Lupin, and he was much better away.

We are sorry to lose him, but perhaps he will get on better by himself, and there may be some truth in his remark that an old and a young horse can’t pull together in the same cart.

Gowing called, and said that the house seemed quite peaceful, and like old times.  He liked Master Lupin very well, but he occasionally suffered from what he could not help—youth.

Just as we sat down at the table we were annoyed by Gowing entering without knocking.

He said: “I am not going to stop, but I have brought with me a sealed envelope, which I know I can trust with Mrs. Pooter.  In that sealed envelope is a strip of paper on which I have asked a simple question.  If the spirits can answer that question, I will believe in Spiritualism.”

I ventured the expression that it might be impossible.

Mrs. James said: “Oh no! it is of common occurrence for the spirits to answer questions under such conditions—and even for them to write on locked slates.  It is quite worth trying.  If ‘Lina’ is in a good temper, she is certain to do it.”

Gowing said: “All right; then I shall be a firm believer.  I shall perhaps drop in about half-past nine or ten, and hear the result.”

He then left and we sat a long time.  Cummings wanted to know something about some undertaking in which he was concerned, but he could get no answer of any description whatever—at which he said he was very disappointed and was afraid there was not much in table-turning after all.  I thought this rather selfish of him.  The séance was very similar to the one last night, almost the same in fact.  So we turned to the letter.  “Lina” took a long time answering the question, but eventually spelt out “ROSES, LILIES, AND COWS.”  There was great rocking of the table at this time, and Mrs. James said: “If that is Captain Drinkwater, let us ask him the answer as well?”

It was the spirit of the Captain, and, most singular, he gave the same identical answer: “ROSES, LILIES, AND COWS.”

I cannot describe the agitation with which Carrie broke the seal, or the disappointment we felt on reading the question, to which the answer was so inappropriate.  The question was, “What’s old Pooter’s age?”

This quite decided me.

As I had put my foot down on Spiritualism years ago, so I would again.

I am pretty easy-going as a rule, but I can be extremely firm when driven to it.

I said slowly, as I turned up the gas: “This is the last of this nonsense that shall ever take place under my roof.  I regret I permitted myself to be a party to such tomfoolery.  If there is anything in it—which I doubt—it is nothing of any good, and I won’t have it again.  That is enough.”

Mrs. James said: “I think, Mr. Pooter, you are rather over-stepping—”

I said: “Hush, madam.  I am master of this house—please understand that.”

Mrs. James made an observation which I sincerely hope I was mistaken in.  I was in such a rage I could not quite catch what she said.  But if I thought she said what it sounded like, she should never enter the house again.

In the evening we had another séance, which, in some respects, was very remarkable, although the first part of it was a little doubtful.  Gowing called, as well as Cummings, and begged to be allowed to join the circle.  I wanted to object, but Mrs. James, who appears a good Medium (that is, if there is anything in it at all), thought there might be a little more spirit power if Gowing joined; so the five of us sat down.

The moment I turned out the gas, and almost before I could get my hands on the table, it rocked violently and tilted, and began moving quickly across the room.  Gowing shouted out: “Way oh! steady, lad, steady!”  I told Gowing if he could not behave himself I should light the gas, and put an end to the séance.

To tell the truth, I thought Gowing was playing tricks, and I hinted as much; but Mrs. James said she had often seen the table go right off the ground.  The spirit Lina came again, and said, “WARN” three or four times, and declined to explain.  Mrs. James said “Lina” was stubborn sometimes.  She often behaved like that, and the best thing to do was to send her away.

She then hit the table sharply, and said: “Go away, Lina; you are disagreeable.  Go away!”  I should think we sat nearly three-quarters of an hour with nothing happening.  My hands felt quite cold, and I suggested we should stop the séance.  Carrie and Mrs. James, as well as Cummings, would not agree to it.  In about ten minutes’ time there was some tilting towards me.  I gave the alphabet, and it spelled out S P O O F.  As I have heard both Gowing and Lupin use the word, and as I could hear Gowing silently laughing, I directly accused him of pushing the table.  He denied it; but, I regret to say, I did not believe him.

Gowing said: “Perhaps it means ‘Spook,’ a ghost.”

I said: “You know it doesn’t mean anything of the sort.”

Gowing said: “Oh! very well—I’m sorry I ‘spook,’” and he rose from the table.

No one took any notice of the stupid joke, and Mrs. James suggested he should sit out for a while.  Gowing consented and sat in the arm-chair.

The table began to move again, and we might have had a wonderful séance but for Gowing’s stupid interruptions.  In answer to the alphabet from Carrie the table spelt “NIPUL,” then the “WARN” three times.  We could not think what it meant till Cummings pointed out that “NIPUL” was Lupin spelled backwards.  This was quite exciting.  Carrie was particularly excited, and said she hoped nothing horrible was going to happen.

Mrs. James asked if “Lina” was the spirit.  The table replied firmly, “No,” and the spirit would not give his or her name.  We then had the message, “NIPUL will be very rich.”

Carrie said she felt quite relieved, but the word “WARN” was again spelt out.  The table then began to oscillate violently, and in reply to Mrs. James, who spoke very softly to the table, the spirit began to spell its name.  It first spelled “DRINK.”

Gowing here said: “Ah! that’s more in my line.”

I asked him to be quiet as the name might not be completed.

The table then spelt “WATER.”

Gowing here interrupted again, and said: “Ah! that’s not in my line.  Outside if you like, but not inside.”

Carrie appealed to him to be quiet.

The table then spelt “CAPTAIN,” and Mrs. James startled us by crying out, “Captain Drinkwater, a very old friend of my father’s, who has been dead some years.”

This was more interesting, and I could not help thinking that after all there must be something in Spiritualism.

Mrs. James asked the spirit to interpret the meaning of the word “Warn” as applied to “NIPUL.”  The alphabet was given again, and we got the word “BOSH.”

Gowing here muttered: “So it is.”

Mrs. James said she did not think the spirit meant that, as Captain Drinkwater was a perfect gentleman, and would never have used the word in answer to a lady’s question.  Accordingly the alphabet was given again.

This time the table spelled distinctly “POSH.”  We all thought of Mrs. Murray Posh and Lupin.  Carrie was getting a little distressed, and as it was getting late we broke up the circle.

We arranged to have one more to-morrow, as it will be Mrs. James’ last night in town.  We also determined not to have Gowing present.

Cummings, before leaving, said it was certainly interesting, but he wished the spirits would say something about him.

More table-turning in the evening.  Carrie said last night was in a measure successful, and they ought to sit again.  Cummings came in, and seemed interested.  I had the gas lighted in the drawing-room, got the steps, and repaired the cornice, which has been a bit of an eyesore to me.  In a fit of unthinkingness—if I may use such an expression,—I gave the floor over the parlour, where the séance was taking place, two loud raps with the hammer.  I felt sorry afterwards, for it was the sort of ridiculous, foolhardy thing that Gowing or Lupin would have done.

However, they never even referred to it, but Carrie declared that a message came through the table to her of a wonderful description, concerning someone whom she and I knew years ago, and who was quite unknown to the others.

When we went to bed, Carrie asked me as a favour to sit to-morrow night, to oblige her.  She said it seemed rather unkind and unsociable on my part.  I promised I would sit once.