before anybody else, to hurry off to all the others and inform them that
she had known of it ever since the night of the bridge-party.

It was important, therefore, to be at home whenever there was the
slightest chance of Susan coming round with her news, and Miss Mapp sat
at 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 moved
within the radius of her observation. Her heart beat fast when, about
the middle of the morning, Mr. Wyse came round the dentist's corner, for
it might be that the bashful Susan had sent him to make the
announcement, but, if so, he was bashful too, for he walked by her house
without pause. He looked rather worried, she thought (as well he might),
and passing on he disappeared round the church corner, clearly on his
way to his betrothed. He carried a square parcel in his hand, about as
big as some jewel-case that might contain a tiara. Half an hour
afterwards, however, he came back, still carrying the tiara. It occurred
to her that the engagement might have been broken off.... A little
later, again with a quickened pulse, Miss Mapp saw the Royce lumber down
from the church corner. It stopped at her house, and she caught a
glimpse of sables within. This time she felt certain that Susan had come
with her interesting news, and waited till Withers, having answered the
door, came to inquire, no doubt, whether she would see Mrs. Poppit. But,
alas, a minute later the Royce lumbered on, carrying the additional
weight of the Christmas number of _Punch_, which Miss Mapp had borrowed
last night and had not, of course, had time to glance at yet.

Anticipation is supposed to be pleasanter than any fulfilment, however
agreeable, and if that is the case, Miss Mapp during the next day or two
had more enjoyment than the announcement of fifty engagements could have
given her, so constantly (when from the garden-room she heard the sound
of the knocker on her front door) did she spring up in certainty that
this was Susan, which it never was. But however enjoyable it all might
be, she appeared to herself at least to be suffering tortures of
suspense, through which by degrees an idea, painful and revolting in the
extreme, yet strangely exhilarating, began to insinuate itself into her
mind. There seemed a deadly probability of the correctness of the
conjecture, as the week went by without further confirmation of that
kiss, for, after