November 9.--My endeavours to discover who tore the sheets out of
my diary still fruitless. Lupin has Daisy Mutlar on the brain, so
we see little of him, except that he invariably turns up at meal
times. Cummings dropped in.

November 10.--Lupin seems to like his new berth--that's a comfort.
Daisy Mutlar the sole topic of conversation during tea. Carrie
almost as full of it as Lupin. Lupin informs me, to my disgust,
that he has been persuaded to take part in the forthcoming
performance of the "Holloway Comedians." He says he is to play Bob
Britches in the farce, GONE TO MY UNCLE'S; Frank Mutlar is going to
play old Musty. I told Lupin pretty plainly I was not in the least
degree interested in the matter, and totally disapproved of amateur
theatricals. Gowing came in the evening.

November 11.--Returned home to find the house in a most disgraceful
uproar, Carrie, who appeared very frightened, was standing outside
her bedroom, while Sarah was excited and crying. Mrs. Birrell (the
charwoman), who had evidently been drinking, was shouting at the
top of her voice that she was "no thief, that she was a respectable
woman, who had to work hard for her living, and she would smack
anyone's face who put lies into her mouth." Lupin, whose back was
towards me, did not hear me come in. He was standing between the
two women, and, I regret to say, in his endeavour to act as
peacemaker, he made use of rather strong language in the presence
of his mother; and I was just in time to hear him say: "And all
this fuss about the loss of a few pages from a rotten diary that
wouldn't fetch three-halfpence a pound!" I said, quietly: "Pardon
me, Lupin, that is a matter of opinion; and as I am master of this