Susan was
determined to be extravagant, she might have asked Miss Mapp as well,
who resented this want of hospitality. She did not like, either, this
hole-and-corner _en famille_ work with Mr. Wyse; it indicated a pushing
familiarity to which, it was hoped, Mr. Wyse's eyes were open.

There was another point: the party, it had been ascertained, would in
all number ten, and if, as was certain, there would be two
bridge-tables, that seemed to imply that two people would have to cut
out. There were often nine at Mrs. Poppit's bridge-parties (she appeared
to be unable to count), but on those occasions Isabel was generally
told by her mother that she did not care for bridge, and so there was no
cutting out, but only a pleasant book for Isabel. But what would be done
with ten? It was idle to hope that Susan would sit out: as hostess she
always considered it part of her duties to play solidly the entire
evening. Still, if the cutting of cards malignantly ordained that Miss
Mapp was ejected, it was only reasonable to expect that after her
magnanimity to the United Services, either Major Benjy or Captain Puffin
would be so obdurate in his insistence that she must play instead of
him, that it would be only ladylike to yield.

She did not, therefore, allow this possibility to dim the pleasure she
anticipated from the discomfiture of darling Diva, who would be certain
to appear in the kingfisher-blue tea-gown, and find herself ghastly and
outshone by the crimson-lake which was the colour of Mrs. Trout's second
toilet, and Miss Mapp, after prolonged thought as to her most dramatic
moment of entrance in the crimson-lake, determined to arrive when she
might expect the rest of the guests to have already assembled. She would
risk, it is true, being out of a rubber for a little, since bridge might
have already begun, but play would have to stop for a minute of
greetings when she came in, and she would beg everybody not to stir, and
would seat herself quite, quite close to Diva, and openly admire her
pretty frock, "like one I used to have ...!"

It was, therefore, not much lacking of ten o'clock when, after she had
waited a considerable time on Mrs. Poppit's threshold, Boon sulkily
allowed her to enter, but gave no answer to her timid inquiry of: "Am I
very late, Boon?" The drawing-room door was a little ajar, and as she
took off the cloak that masked the splendour of the crimson-lake, her
acute ears heard the murmur of talk going on, w