mean
Major Flint's--portmanteau has not come back to his house. Of that I'm
sure. What if they have sent it away to some place where they are
unknown, full of pistols and things?"
"Possible--terribly possible," said the Padre. "I wish I could see my
duty clear. I should not hesitate to--well, to do the best I could to
induce them to abandon this murderous project. And what do you imagine
was the root of the quarrel?"
"I couldn't say, I'm sure," said Miss Mapp. She bent her head over the
chrysanthemums.
"Your distracting sex," said he with a moment's gallantry, "is usually
the cause of quarrel. I've noticed that they both seemed to admire Miss
Irene very much."
Miss Mapp raised her head and spoke with great animation.
"Dear, quaint Irene, I'm sure, has nothing whatever to do with it," she
said with perfect truth. "Nothing whatever!"
There was no mistaking the sincerity of this, and the Padre, Tillingite
to the marrow, instantly concluded that Miss Mapp knew what (or who) was
the cause of all this unique disturbance. And as she bent her head again
over the chrysanthemums, and quite distinctly grew brick-red in the
face, he felt that delicacy prevented his inquiring any further.
"What are you going to do, dear Padre?" she asked in a low voice,
choking with emotion. "Whatever you decide will be wise and Christian.
Oh, these violent men! Such babies, too!"
The Padre was bursting with curiosity, but since his delicacy forbade
him to ask any of the questions which effervesced like sherbet round his
tongue, he propounded another plan.
"I think my duty is to go straight to the Major," he said, "who seems to
be the principal in the affair, and tell him that I know all--and guess
the rest," he added.
"Nothing that I have said," declared Miss Mapp in great confusion, "must
have anything to do with your guesses. Promise me that, Padre."
This intimate and fruitful conversation was interrupted by the sound of
two pairs of steps just outside, and before Withers had had time to say
"Mrs. Plaistow," Diva burst in.
"They have both taken the 11.20 tram," she said, and sank into the
nearest chair.
"Together?" asked Miss Mapp, feeling a sudden chill of disappointment
at the thought of a duel with pistols trailing off into one with golf
clubs.
"Yes, but that's a blind," panted Diva. "They were talking and laughing
together. Sheer blind! Duel among the sand-dunes!"
"Padre, it is your duty to stop it," said M
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