by E. F. Benson
CHAPTER X
The news that Mr. Wyse was to be of the party that evening at Mrs.Poppit's and was to dine there first, _en famille_ (as he casually letslip in order to air his French), created a disagreeable impression thatafternoon in Tilling. It was not usual to do anything more than "have atray" for your evening meal, if one of these winter bridge-partiesfollowed, and there was, to Miss Mapp's mind, a deplorable tendency toostentation in this dinner-giving before a party. Still, if Susan wasdetermined to be extravagant, she might have asked Miss Mapp as well,who resented this want of hospitality. She did not like, either, thishole-and-corner _en famille_ work with Mr. Wyse; it indicated a pushingfamiliarity to which, it was hoped, Mr. Wyse's eyes were open.
There was another point: the party, it had been ascertained, would inall number ten, and if, as was certain, there would be twobridge-tables, that seemed to imply that two people would have to cutout. There were often nine at Mrs. Poppit's bridge-parties (she appearedto be unable to count), but on those occasions Isabel was generallytold by her mother that she did not care for bridge, and so there was nocutting out, but only a pleasant book for Isabel. But what would be donewith ten? It was idle to hope that Susan would sit out: as hostess shealways considered it part of her duties to play solidly the entireevening. Still, if the cutting of cards malignantly ordained that MissMapp was ejected, it was only reasonable to expect that after hermagnanimity to the United Services, either Major Benjy or Captain Puffinwould be so obdurate in his insistence that she must play instead ofhim, that it would be only ladylike to yield.
She did not, therefore, allow this possibility to dim the pleasure sheanticipated from the discomfiture of darling Diva, who would be certainto appear in the kingfisher-blue tea-gown, and find herself ghastly andoutshone by the crimson-lake which was the colour of Mrs. Trout's secondtoilet, and Miss Mapp, after prolonged thought as to her most dramaticmoment of entrance in the crimson-lake, determined to arrive when shemight expect the rest of the guests to have already assembled. She wouldrisk, it is true, being out of a rubber for a little, since bridge mighthave already begun, but play would have to stop for a minute ofgreetings when she came in, and she would beg everybody not to stir, andwould seat herself quite, quite close to Diva, and openly admire herpretty frock, "like one I used to have ...!"
It was, therefore, not much lacking of ten o'clock when, after she hadwaited a considerable time on Mrs. Poppit's threshold, Boon sulkilyallowed her to enter, but gave no answer to her timid inquiry of: "Am Ivery late, Boon?" The drawing-room door was a little ajar, and as shetook off the cloak that masked the splendour of the crimson-lake, heracute ears heard the murmur of talk going on, which indicated thatbridge had not yet begun, while her acute nostrils detected the faintbut certain smell of roast grouse, which showed what Susan had given Mr.Wyse for dinner, probably telling him that the birds were a present toher from the shooting-lodge where she had stayed in the summer. Then,after she had thrown herself a glance in the mirror, and put on hersmile, Boon preceded her, slightly shrugging his shoulders, to thedrawing-room door, which he pushed open, and grunted loudly, which washis manner of announcing a guest. Miss Mapp went tripping in, almost ata run, to indicate how vexed she was with herself for being late, andthere, just in front of her, stood Diva, dressed not in kingfisher-blueat all, but in the crimson-lake of Mrs. Trout's second toilet.Perfidious Diva had had her dress dyed too....
Miss Mapp's courage rose to the occasion. Other people, Majors and tipsyCaptains, might be cowards, but not she. Twice now (omitting the matterof the Wars of the Roses) had Diva by some cunning, which it wasimpossible not to suspect of a diabolical origin, clad her odious littleroundabout form in splendours identical with Miss Mapp's, but now,without faltering even when she heard Evie's loud squeak, she turned toher hostess, who wore the Order of M.B.E. on her ample breast, and madeher salutations in a perfectly calm voice.
"Dear Susan, don't scold me for being so late," she said, "though I knowI deserve it. So sweet of you! Isabel darling and dear Evie! Oh, and Mr.Wyse! Sweet Irene! Major Benjy and Captain Puffin! Had a nice game ofgolf? And the Padre!..."
She hesitated a moment wondering, if she could, without screaming orscratching, seem aware of Diva's presence. Then she soared, lambent asflame.
"Diva darling!" she said, and bent and kissed her, even as St. Stephenin the moment of martyrdom prayed for those who stoned him. Flesh andblood could not manage more, and she turned to Mr. Wyse, rememberingthat Diva had told her that the Contessa Faradiddleony's arrival waspostponed.
"And your dear sister has put off her journey, I understand," she said."Such a disappointment! Shall we see her at Tilling at all, do youthink?"
Mr. Wyse looked surprised.
"Dear lady," he said, "you're the second person who has said that to me.Mrs. Plaistow asked me just now----"
"Yes; it was she who told me," said Miss Mapp in case there was amistake. "Isn't it true?"
"Certainly not. I told my housekeeper that the Contessa's maid was ill,and would follow her, but that's the only foundation I know of for thisrumour. Amelia encourages me to hope that she will be here early nextweek."
"Oh, no doubt that's it!" said Miss Mapp in an aside so that Diva couldhear. "Darling Diva's always getting hold of the most erroneousinformation. She must have been listening to servants' gossip. So gladshe's wrong about it."
Mr. Wyse made one of his stately inclinations of the head.
"Amelia will regret very much not being here to-night," he said, "for Isee all the great bridge-players are present."
"Oh, Mr. Wyse!" said she. "We shall all be humble learners compared withthe Contessa, I expect."
"Not at all!" said Mr. Wyse. "But what a delightful idea of yours andMrs. Plaistow's to dress alike in such lovely gowns. Quite likesisters."
Miss Mapp could not trust herself to speak on this subject, and showedall her teeth, not snarling but amazingly smiling. She had no occasionto reply, however, for Captain Puffin joined them, eagerly deferential.
"What a charming surprise you and Mrs. Plaistow have given us, MissMapp," he said, "in appearing again in the same beautiful dresses. Quitelike----"
Miss Mapp could not bear to hear what she and Diva were like, andwheeled about, passionately regretting that she had forgiven Puffin.This manoeuvre brought her face to face with the Major.
"Upon my word, Miss Elizabeth," he said, "you look magnificentto-night."
He saw the light of fury in her eyes, and guessed, mere man as he was,what it was about. He bent to her and spoke low.
"But, by Jove!" he said with supreme diplomacy, "somebody ought to tellour good Mrs. Plaistow that some women can wear a wonderful gown andothers--ha!"
"Dear Major Benjy," said she. "Cruel of you to poor Diva."
But instantly her happiness was clouded again, for the Padre had a veryill-inspired notion.
"What ho! fair Madam Plaistow," he humorously observed to Miss Mapp."Ah! Peccavi! I am in error. It is Mistress Mapp. But let us to thecards! Our hostess craves thy presence at yon table."
Contrary to custom Mrs. Poppit did not sit firmly down at a table, norwas Isabel told that she had an invincible objection to playing bridge.Instead she bade everybody else take their seats, and said that she andMr. Wyse had settled at dinner that they much preferred looking on andlearning to playing. With a view to enjoying this incredible treat asfully as possible, they at once seated themselves on a low sofa at thefar end of the room where they could not look or learn at all, andengaged in conversation. Diva and Elizabeth, as might have been expectedfrom the malignant influence which watched over their attire, cut in atthe same table and were partners, so that they had, in spite of thedeadly antagonism of identical tea-gowns, a financial interest incommon, while a further bond between them was the eagerness with whichthey strained their ears to overhear anything that their hostess and Mr.Wyse were saying to each other.
Miss Mapp and Diva alike were perhaps busier when they were being dummythan when they were play
ing the cards. Over the background of each mindwas spread a hatred of the other, red as their tea-gowns, and shot withblack despair as to what on earth they should do now with thoseill-fated pieces of pride. Miss Mapp was prepared to make a perfectchameleon of hers, if only she could get away from Diva's hue, but whatif, having changed, say, to purple, Diva became purple too? She couldnot stand a third coincidence, and besides, she much doubted whether anygown that had once been of so pronounced a crimson-lake, couldsuccessfully attempt to appear of any other hue except perhaps black. IfDiva died, she might perhaps consult Miss Greele as to whether blackwould be possible, but then if Diva died, there was no reason for notwearing crimson-lake for ever, since it would be an insincerity of whichMiss Mapp humbly hoped she was incapable, to go into mourning for Divajust because she died.
In front of this lurid background of despair moved the figures whichwould have commanded all her attention, have aroused all the feelings ofdisgust and pity of which she was capable, had only Diva stuck tokingfisher-blue. There they sat on the sofa, talking in voices which itwas impossible to overhear, and if ever a woman made up to a man, and ifever a man was taken in by shallow artifices, "they," thought Miss Mapp,"are the ones." There was no longer any question that Susan was doingher utmost to inveigle Mr. Wyse into matrimony, for no other motive, notpoliteness, not the charm of conversation, not the low, comfortable seatby the fire could possibly have had force enough to keep her for a wholeevening from the bridge-table. That dinner _en famille_, so Miss Mappsarcastically reflected--what if it was the first of hundreds of similardinners _en famille_? Perhaps, when safely married, Susan would ask herto one of the family dinners, with a glassful of foam which she calledchampagne, and the leg of a crow which she called game from theshooting-lodge.... There was no use in denying that Mr. Wyse seemed tobe swallowing flattery and any other form of bait as fast as they weresupplied him; never had he been so made up to since the day, now twoyears ago, when Miss Mapp herself wrote him down as uncapturable. Butnow, on this awful evening of crimson-lake, it seemed only prudent toface the prospect of his falling into the nets which were spread forhim.... Susan the sister-in-law of a Contessa. Susan the wife of the manwhose urbanity made all Tilling polite to each other, Susan a Wyse ofWhitchurch! It made Miss Mapp feel positively weary of earth....
Nor was this the sum of Miss Mapp's mental activities, as she sat beingdummy to Diva, for, in addition to the rage, despair and disgust withwhich these various topics filled her, she had narrowly to watch Diva'splay, in order, at the end, to point out to her with lucid firmness allthe mistakes she had made, while with snorts and sniffs and mutteredexclamations and jerks of the head and pullings-out of cards andputtings of them back with amazing assertions that she had not quittedthem, she wrestled with the task she had set herself of getting twono-trumps. It was impossible to count the tricks that Diva made, for shehad a habit of putting her elbow on them after she had raked them in, asif in fear that her adversaries would filch them when she was notlooking, and Miss Mapp, distracted with other interests, forgot thatno-trumps had been declared and thought it was hearts, of which Divaplayed several after their adversaries' hands were quite denuded ofthem. She often did that "to make sure."
"Three tricks," she said triumphantly at the conclusion, counting thecards in the cache below her elbow.
Miss Mapp gave a long sigh, but remembered that Mr. Wyse was present.
"You could have got two more," she said, "if you hadn't played thosehearts, dear. You would have been able to trump Major Benjy's club andthe Padre's diamond, and we should have gone out. Never mind, you playedit beautifully otherwise."
"Can't trump when it's no trumps," said Diva, forgetting that Mr. Wysewas there. "That's nonsense. Got three tricks. Did go out. Did you thinkit was hearts? Wasn't."
Miss Mapp naturally could not demean herself to take any notice of this.
"Your deal, is it, Major Benjy?" she asked. "Me to cut?"
Diva had remembered just after her sharp speech to her partner that Mr.Wyse was present, and looked towards the sofa to see if there were anyindications of pained surprise on his face which might indicate that hehad heard. But what she saw there--or, to be more accurate, what shefailed to see there--forced her to give an exclamation which caused MissMapp to look round in the direction where Diva's bulging eyes wereglued.... There was no doubt whatever about it: Mrs. Poppit and Mr. Wysewere no longer there. Unless they were under the sofa they had certainlyleft the room together and altogether. Had she gone to put on her sablecoat on this hot night? Was Mr. Wyse staggering under its weight as hefitted her into it? Miss Mapp rejected the supposition; they had gone toanother room to converse more privately. This looked very black indeed,and she noted the time on the clock in order to ascertain, when theycame back, how long they had been absent.
The rubber went on its wild way, relieved from the restraining influenceof Mr. Wyse, and when, thirty-nine minutes afterwards, it came to itsconclusion and neither the hostess nor Mr. Wyse had returned, Miss Mappwas content to let Diva muddle herself madly, adding up the score withthe assistance of her fingers, and went across to the other table tillshe should be called back to check her partner's figures. They would becertain to need checking.
"Has Mr. Wyse gone away already, dear Isabel?" she said. "How early!"
("And four makes nine," muttered Diva, getting to her little finger.)
Isabel was dummy, and had time for conversation.
"I think he has only gone with Mamma into the conservatory," shesaid--"no more diamonds, partner?--to advise her about the orchids."
Now the conservatory was what Miss Mapp considered a potting-shed with aglass roof, and the orchids were one anaemic odontoglossum, and therewould scarcely be room besides that for Mrs. Poppit and Mr. Wyse. Thepotting-shed was visible from the drawing-room window, over whichcurtains were drawn.
"Such a lovely night," said Miss Mapp. "And while Diva is checking thescore may I have a peep at the stars, dear? So fond of the sweet stars."
She glided to the window (conscious that Diva was longing to glide too,but was preparing to quarrel with the Major's score) and took her peepat the sweet stars. The light from the hall shone full into thepotting-shed, but there was nobody there. She made quite sure of that.
Diva had heard about the sweet stars, and for the first time in her lifemade no objection to her adversaries' total.
"You're right, Major Flint, eighteen-pence," she said. "Stupid of me:I've left my handkerchief in the pocket of my cloak. I'll pop out andget it. Back in a minute. Cut again for partners."
She trundled to the door and popped out of it before Miss Mapp had theslightest chance of intercepting her progress. This was bitter, becausethe dining-room opened out of the hall, and so did the book-cupboardwith a window which dear Susan called her boudoir. Diva was quitecapable of popping into both of these apartments. In fact, if thetruants were there, it was no use bothering about the sweet stars anymore, and Diva would already have won....
There was a sweet moon as well, and just as baffled Miss Mapp wasturning away from the window, she saw that which made her positivelyglue her nose to the cold window-pane, and tuck the curtain in, so thather silhouette should not be visible from outside. Down the middle ofthe garden path came the two truants, Susan in her sables and Mr. Wyseclose beside her with his coat-collar turned up. Her ample form with thesmall round head on the top looked like a short-funnelled locomotiveengine, and he like the driver on the foot-plate. The perfidious thingshad said they were going to consult over the orchid. Did orchids grow onthe lawn? It was news to Miss Mapp if they did.
They stopped, and Mr. Wyse quite clearly pointed to some celestialobject, moon or star, and they both gazed at it. The sight of two suchmiddle-aged people behaving like this made Miss Mapp feel quite sick,but she heroically continued a moment more at her post. Her heroism wasrewarded, for immediately after the inspection of the celestial object,they turned and inspected each other. And Mr. Wyse kissed her.
Miss
Mapp "scriggled" from behind the curtain into the room again.
"Aldebaran!" she said. "So lovely!"
Simultaneously Diva re-entered with her handkerchief, thwarted anddisappointed, for she had certainly found nobody either in the boudoiror in the dining-room. But there was going to be a sit-down supper, andas Boon was not there, she had taken a _marron glace_.
Miss Mapp was flushed with excitement and disgust, and almost forgotabout Diva's gown.
"Found your hanky, dear?" she said. "Then shall we cut for partnersagain? You and me, Major Benjy. Don't scold me if I play wrong."
She managed to get a seat that commanded a full-face view of the door,for the next thing was to see how "the young couple" (as she had alreadylabelled them in her sarcastic mind) "looked" when they returned fromtheir amorous excursion to the orchid that grew on the lawn. Theyentered, most unfortunately, while she was in the middle of playing acomplicated hand, and her brain was so switched off from the play bytheir entrance that she completely lost the thread of what she wasdoing, and threw away two tricks that simply required to be gathered upby her, but now lurked below Diva's elbow. What made it worse was thatno trace of emotion, no heightened colour, no coy and downcast eyebetrayed a hint of what had happened on the lawn. With brazen effronterySusan informed her daughter that Mr. Wyse thought a littleleaf-mould....
"What a liar!" thought Miss Mapp, and triumphantly put her remainingtrump on to her dummy's best card. Then she prepared to make the best ofit.
"We've lost three, I'm afraid, Major Benjy," she said. "Don't you thinkyou overbid your hand just a little wee bit?"
"I don't know about that, Miss Elizabeth," said the Major. "If youhadn't let those two spades go, and hadn't trumped my best heart----"
Miss Mapp interrupted with her famous patter.
"Oh, but if I had taken the spades," she said quickly, "I should havehad to lead up to Diva's clubs, and then they would have got the roughin diamonds, and I should have never been able to get back into yourhand again. Then at the end if I hadn't trumped your heart, I shouldhave had to lead the losing spade and Diva would have over-trumped; andbrought in her club, and we should have gone down two more. If youfollow me, I think you'll agree that I was right to do that. But allgood players overbid their hands sometimes, Major Benjy. Such fun!"
The supper was unusually ostentatious, but Miss Mapp saw the reason forthat; it was clear that Susan wanted to impress poor Mr. Wyse with herwealth, and probably when it came to settlements, he would learn somevery unpleasant news. But there were agreeable little circumstances totemper her dislike of this extravagant display, for she was hungry, andDiva, always a gross feeder, spilt some hot chocolate sauce on thecrimson-lake, which, if indelible, might supply a solution to theproblem of what was to be done now about her own frock. She kept an eye,too, on Captain Puffin, to see if he showed any signs of improvement inthe direction she had indicated to him in her interview, and wasrejoiced to see that one of these glances was clearly the cause of hisrefusing a second glass of port. He had already taken the stopper out ofthe decanter when their eyes met ... and then he put it back again.Improvement already!
Everything else (pending the discovery as to whether chocolate oncrimson-lake spelt ruin) now faded into a middle distance, while theaffairs of Susan and poor Mr. Wyse occupied the entire foreground ofMiss Mapp's consciousness. Mean and cunning as Susan's conduct must havebeen in entrapping Mr. Wyse when others had failed to gain hisaffection, Miss Mapp felt that it would be only prudent to continue onthe most amicable of terms with her, for as future sister-in-law to acountess, and wife to the man who by the mere exercise of his presencecould make Tilling sit up and behave, she would doubtless not hesitateabout giving Miss Mapp some nasty ones back if retaliation demanded. Itwas dreadful to think that this audacious climber was so soon to belongto the Wyses of Whitchurch, but since the moonlight had revealed thatsuch was Mr. Wyse's intention, it was best to be friends with the Mammonof the British Empire. Poppit-cum-Wyse was likely to be a very importantcentre of social life in Tilling, when not in Scotland or Whitchurch orCapri, and Miss Mapp wisely determined that even the announcement of theengagement should not induce her to give voice to the very propersentiments which it could not help inspiring.
After all she had done for Susan, in letting the door of high-life inTilling swing open for her when she could not possibly keep it shut anylonger, it seemed only natural that, if she only kept on good terms withher now, Susan would insist that her dear Elizabeth must be the first tobe told of the engagement. This made her pause before adopting theobvious course of setting off immediately after breakfast next morning,and telling all her friends, under promise of secrecy, just what she hadseen in the moonlight last night. Thrilling to the narrator as such anannouncement would be, it would be even more thrilling, provided onlythat Susan had sufficient sense of decency to tell her of the engagementbefore anybody else, to hurry off to all the others and inform them thatshe had known of it ever since the night of the bridge-party.
It was important, therefore, to be at home whenever there was theslightest chance of Susan coming round with her news, and Miss Mapp satat her window the whole of that first morning, so as not to miss her,and hardly attended at all to the rest of the pageant of life that movedwithin the radius of her observation. Her heart beat fast when, aboutthe middle of the morning, Mr. Wyse came round the dentist's corner, forit might be that the bashful Susan had sent him to make theannouncement, but, if so, he was bashful too, for he walked by her housewithout pause. He looked rather worried, she thought (as well he might),and passing on he disappeared round the church corner, clearly on hisway to his betrothed. He carried a square parcel in his hand, about asbig as some jewel-case that might contain a tiara. Half an hourafterwards, however, he came back, still carrying the tiara. It occurredto her that the engagement might have been broken off.... A littlelater, again with a quickened pulse, Miss Mapp saw the Royce lumber downfrom the church corner. It stopped at her house, and she caught aglimpse of sables within. This time she felt certain that Susan had comewith her interesting news, and waited till Withers, having answered thedoor, came to inquire, no doubt, whether she would see Mrs. Poppit. But,alas, a minute later the Royce lumbered on, carrying the additionalweight of the Christmas number of _Punch_, which Miss Mapp had borrowedlast night and had not, of course, had time to glance at yet.
Anticipation is supposed to be pleasanter than any fulfilment, howeveragreeable, and if that is the case, Miss Mapp during the next day or twohad more enjoyment than the announcement of fifty engagements could havegiven her, so constantly (when from the garden-room she heard the soundof the knocker on her front door) did she spring up in certainty thatthis was Susan, which it never was. But however enjoyable it all mightbe, she appeared to herself at least to be suffering tortures ofsuspense, through which by degrees an idea, painful and revolting in theextreme, yet strangely exhilarating, began to insinuate itself into hermind. There seemed a deadly probability of the correctness of theconjecture, as the week went by without further confirmation of thatkiss, for, after all, who knew anything about the character andantecedents of Susan? As for Mr. Wyse, was he not a constant visitor tothe fierce and fickle South, where, as everyone knew, morality waswholly extinct? And how, if it was all too true, should Tilling treatthis hitherto unprecedented situation? It was terrible to contemplatethis moral upheaval, which might prove to be a social upheaval also.Time and again, as Miss Mapp vainly waited for news, she was within anace of communicating her suspicions to the Padre. He ought to know, forChristmas (as was usual in December) was daily drawing nearer....
There came some half-way through that month a dark and ominousafternoon, the rain falling sad and thick, and so unusual a density ofcloud dwelling in the upper air that by three o'clock Miss Mapp wasquite unable, until the street lamp at the corner was lit, to carry outthe minor duty of keeping an eye on the houses of Captain Puffin andMajor Benjy. The Royce had already lumbered by her door sincelunch-time, but so dark w
as it that, peer as she might, it was lost inthe gloom before it came to the dentist's corner, and Miss Mapp had toface the fact that she really did not know whether it had turned intothe street where Susan's lover lived or had gone straight on. It waseasier to imagine the worst, and she had already pictured to herself aclandestine meeting between those passionate ones, who under cover ofthis darkness were imperviously concealed from any observation (beneathan umbrella) from her house-roof. Nothing but a powerful searchlightcould reveal what was going on in the drawing-room window of Mr. Wyse'shouse, and apart from the fact that she had not got a powerfulsearchlight, it was strongly improbable that anything of a very intimatenature was going on there ... it was not likely that they would choosethe drawing-room window. She thought of calling on Mr. Wyse and askingfor the loan of a book, so that she would see whether the sables were inthe hall, but even then she would not really be much further on. Even asshe considered this a sea-mist began to creep through the streetoutside, and in a few minutes it was blotted from view. Nothing wasvisible, and nothing audible but the hissing of the shrouded rain.
Suddenly from close outside came the sound of a door-knocker imperiouslyplied, which could be no other than her own. Only a telegram or someurgent errand could bring anyone out on such a day, and unable to bearthe suspense of waiting till Withers had answered it, she hurried intothe house to open the door herself. Was the news of the engagementcoming to her at last? Late though it was, she would welcome it evennow, for it would atone, in part at any rate.... It was Diva.
"Diva dear!" said Miss Mapp enthusiastically, for Withers was already inthe hall. "How sweet of you to come round. Anything special?"
"Yes," said Diva, opening her eyes very wide, and spreading a shower ofmoisture as she whisked off her mackintosh. "She's come."
This could not refer to Susan....
"Who?" asked Miss Mapp.
"Faradiddleony," said Diva.
"No!" said Miss Mapp very loud, so much interested that she quite forgotto resent Diva's being the first to have the news. "Let's have acomfortable cup of tea in the garden-room. Tea, Withers."
Miss Mapp lit the candles there, for, lost in meditation, she had beensitting in the dark, and with reckless hospitality poked the fire tomake it blaze.
"Tell me all about it," she said. That would be a treat for Diva, whowas such a gossip.
"Went to the station just now," said Diva. "Wanted a new time-table.Besides the Royce had just gone down. Mr. Wyse and Susan on theplatform."
"Sables?" asked Miss Mapp parenthetically, to complete the picture.
"Swaddled. Talked to them. Train came in. Woman got out. Kissed Mr.Wyse. Shook hands with Susan. Both hands. While luggage was got out."
"Much?" asked Miss Mapp quickly.
"Hundreds. Covered with coronets and Fs. Two cabs."
Miss Mapp's mind, on a hot scent, went back to the previous telegraphicutterance.
"Both hands did you say, dear?" she asked. "Perhaps that's the Italianfashion."
"Maybe. Then what else do you think? Faradiddleony kissed Susan! Mr.Wyse and she must be engaged. I can't account for it any other way. Hemust have written to tell his sister. Couldn't have told her then at thestation. Must have been engaged some days and we never knew. They wentto look at the orchid. Remember? That was when."
It was bitter, no doubt, but the bitterness could be transmuted into anamazing sweetness.
"Then now I can speak," said Miss Mapp with a sigh of great relief. "Oh,it has been so hard keeping silence, but I felt I ought to. I knew allalong, Diva dear, all, all along."
"How?" asked Diva with a fallen crest.
Miss Mapp laughed merrily.
"I looked out of the window, dear, while you went for your hanky andpeeped into dining-room and boudoir, didn't you? There they were on thelawn, and they kissed each other. So I said to myself: 'Dear Susan hasgot him! Perseverance rewarded!'"
"H'm. Only a guess of yours. Or did Susan tell you?"
"No, dear, she said nothing. But Susan was always secretive."
"But they might not have been engaged at all," said Diva with abrightened eye. "Man doesn't always marry a woman he kisses!"
Diva had betrayed the lowness of her mind now by hazarding that whichhad for days dwelt in Miss Mapp's mind as almost certain. She drew inher breath with a hissing noise as if in pain.
"Darling, what a dreadful suggestion," she said. "No such idea everoccurred to me. Secretive I thought Susan might be, but immoral, never.I must forget you ever thought that. Let's talk about something lesspainful. Perhaps you would like to tell me more about the Contessa."
Diva had the grace to look ashamed of herself, and to take refuge in thenew topic so thoughtfully suggested.
"Couldn't see clearly," she said. "So dark. But tall and lean. Sneezed."
"That might happen to anybody, dear," said Miss Mapp, "whether tall orshort. Nothing more?"
"An eyeglass," said Diva after thought.
"A single one?" asked Miss Mapp. "On a string? How strange for awoman."
That seemed positively the last atom of Diva's knowledge, and thoughMiss Mapp tried on the principles of psycho-analysis to disintersomething she had forgotten, the catechism led to no results whatever.But Diva had evidently something else to say, for after finishing hertea she whizzed backwards and forwards from window to fireplace withlittle grunts and whistles, as was her habit when she was strugglingwith utterance. Long before it came out, Miss Mapp had, of course,guessed what it was. No wonder Diva found difficulty in speaking of amatter in which she had behaved so deplorably....
"About that wretched dress," she said at length. "Got it stained withchocolate first time I wore it, and neither I nor Janet can get it out."
("Hurrah," thought Miss Mapp.)
"Must have it dyed again," continued Diva. "Thought I'd better tell you.Else you might have yours dyed the same colour as mine again.Kingfisher-blue to crimson-lake. All came out of Vogue and Mrs. Trout.Rather funny, you know, but expensive. You should have seen your face,Elizabeth, when you came in to Susan's the other night."
"Should I, dearest?" said Miss Mapp, trembling violently.
"Yes. Wouldn't have gone home with you in the dark for anything.Murder."
"Diva dear," said Miss Mapp anxiously, "you've got a mind which likes toput the worst construction on everything. If Mr. Wyse kisses hisintended you think things too terrible for words; if I look surprisedyou think I'm full of hatred and malice. Be more generous, dear. Don'tput evil constructions on all you see."
"Ho!" said Diva with a world of meaning.
"I don't know what you intend to convey by ho," said Miss Mapp, "and Ishan't try to guess. But be kinder, darling, and it will make youhappier. Thinketh no evil, you know! Charity!"
Diva felt that the limit of what was tolerable was reached whenElizabeth lectured her on the need of charity, and she would no doubthave explained tersely and unmistakably exactly what she meant by "Ho!"had not Withers opportunely entered to clear away tea. She brought anote with her, which Miss Mapp opened. "Encourage me to hope," were thefirst words that met her eye: Mrs. Poppit had been encouraging him tohope again.
"To dine at Mr. Wyse's to-morrow," she said. "No doubt the announcementwill be made then. He probably wrote it before he went to the station.Yes, a few friends. You going, dear?"
Diva instantly got up.
"Think I'll run home and see," she said. "By the by, Elizabeth, whatabout the--the teagown, if I go? You or I?"
"If yours is all covered with chocolate, I shouldn't think you'd like towear it," said Miss Mapp.
"Could tuck it away," said Diva, "just for once. Put flowers. Then sendit to dyer's. You won't see it again. Not crimson-lake, I mean."
Miss Mapp summoned the whole of her magnanimity. It had been put to agreat strain already and was tired out, but it was capable of one moreeffort.
"Wear it then," she said. "It'll be a treat to you. But let me know ifyou're not asked. I daresay Mr. Wyse will want to keep
it very small.Good-bye, dear; I'm afraid you'll get very wet going home."
