ve so innocent an ancestry to her adoption of it. It was far
more sensible to take for granted that she had got wind of Diva's
invention by some odious, underhand piece of spying. What that might be
must be investigated (and probably determined) later, but at present the
business of Janet's roses eclipsed every other interest.

Miss Mapp's shopping that morning was unusually prolonged, for it was
important that every woman in Tilling should see the poppies on the
corn-coloured ground, and know that she had worn that dress before Diva
appeared in some mean adaptation of it. Though the total cost of her
entire purchases hardly amounted to a shilling, she went in and out of
an amazing number of shops, and made a prodigious series of inquiries
into the price of commodities that ranged from motor-cars to
sealing-wax, and often entered a shop twice because (wreathed in smiling
apologies for her stupidity) she had forgotten what she was told the
first time. By twelve o'clock she was satisfied that practically
everybody, with one exception, had seen her, and that her costume had
aroused a deep sense of jealousy and angry admiration. So cunning was
the handiwork of herself, Withers and Mary that she felt fairly sure
that no one had the slightest notion of how this decoration of poppies
was accomplished, for Evie had run round her in small mouse-like
circles, murmuring to herself: "Very effective idea; is it woven into
the cloth, Elizabeth? Dear me, I wonder where I could get some like it,"
and Mrs. Poppit had followed her all up the street, with eyes glued to
the hem of her skirt, and a completely puzzled face: "but then," so
thought Elizabeth sweetly "even members of the Order of the British
Empire can't have everything their own way." As for the Major, he had
simply come to a dead stop when he bounced out of his house as she
passed, and said something very gallant and appropriate. Even the
absence of that one inhabitant of Tilling, dear Diva, did not strike a
jarring note in this paean of triumph, for Miss Mapp was quite satisfied
that Diva was busy indoors, working her fingers to the bone over the
application of bunches of roses, and, as usual, she was perfectly
correct in her conjecture. But dear Diva would have to see the new
frock to-morrow afternoon, at the latest, when she came to the
bridge-party. Perhaps she would then, for the first time, be wearing the
roses herself, and everybody would very pleasantly pity her. This