Padre's respectful reception of it had caused her to hope that everybody
else might believe in it. The character of the smiles, however, that
wreathed the faces of her friends did not quite seem to give fruition to
that hope. There were smiles and smiles, respectful smiles, sympathetic
smiles, envious and admiring smiles, but there were also smiles of
hilarious and mocking incredulity. She concluded that she had to deal
with the latter variety.

"Something," thought Miss Mapp, as she stood quite alone in the High
Street, with Mrs. Poppit labouring up the hill, and Diva already a
rose-madder speck in the distance, "has got to be done," and it only
remained to settle what. Fury with the dear Padre for having hinted
precisely what she meant, intended and designed that he should hint, was
perhaps the paramount emotion in her mind; fury with everybody else for
not respectfully believing what she did not believe herself made an
important pendant.

"What am I to do?" said Miss Mapp aloud, and had to explain to Mr.
Hopkins, who had all his clothes on, that she had not spoken to him.
Then she caught sight again of Mrs. Poppit's sable coat hardly further
off than it had been when first this thunderclap of an intuition
deafened her, and still reeling from the shock, she remembered that it
was almost certainly Mrs. Poppit who was the cause of Mr. Wyse writing
her that exquisitely delicate note with regard to Thursday. It was a
herculean task, no doubt, to plug up all the fountains of talk in
Tilling which were spouting so merrily at her expense, but a beginning
must be made before she could arrive at the end. A short scurry of
nimble steps brought her up to the sables.

"Dear Mrs. Poppit," she said, "if you are walking by my little house,
would you give me two minutes' talk? And--so stupid of me to forget just
now--will you come in after dinner on Wednesday for a little rubber? The
days are closing in now; one wants to make the most of the daylight, and
I think it is time to begin our pleasant little winter evenings."

This was a bribe, and Mrs. Poppit instantly pocketed it, with the
effect that two minutes later she was in the garden-room, and had
deposited her sable coat on the sofa ("Quite shook the room with the
weight of it," said Miss Mapp to herself while she arranged her plan).

She stood looking out of the window for a moment, writhing with
humiliation at having to be suppliant to the Member of the British
Empire. She