MISS MATFIELD'S NEW YEAR 387

that this time it w:as going to be rather nice, and once
she was there, she would wonder how she could have
thought it would be anything but depressing. All as
usual. Still, it would be a change, a break in what had
lately been the very dull round of the office and the
Burpenfield. Never had the round been duller. The
Burpenfield was getting worse; Evelyn Ansdell—lucky
child!—had gone off with her absurd father; and nobody
amusing had arrived. She had not met a single interest-
ing new person for ages. Then, life in Angel Pavement
had merely been so much typewriter-pounding since the
one amusing person there, Mr, Golspie, had been away.
Mr. Golspie, she admitted to herself, with unusual
candour, was amusing, easily the most amusing person
on the horizon—bless him!—and she would be glad when
he came back. It would be fun, if only one had the cheek
and courage to do it, to bring Mr. Golspie into the Club,
to introduce him to Tatters, to say "Miss Tattersby, this
is the only amusing man I know just now/' But—oh
Lord!—she must keep off Tatters. In the Club, they
talked about Tatters day and night.

She had further proof of this, if she had wanted it,
when she reached the Club, for on the landing outside
her room she met the depressing Miss Kersey. "Is that
you, Matfield?" Kersey wailed, all damp and droopy as
usual. "Don't, don't go near Tatters to-night, whatever
you do. I went in to ask her about sub-letting my room
and she simply snapped my head off, didn't give me an
earthly chance to tell her when I wanted to sub-let or
anything. She just flew at me, Matfield, as if I'd been
caught stealing or something. Isn't Tatters really awful?
And yet the last time I went in, she was as nice as any-
thing and even asked me about my sister, the one who's