ntessa was there. It was
possible, awfully possible, that the two might be sitting in the
firelight, that voices might be hushed to amorous whisperings, that
pregnant smiles might be taking the place of laughter. On one such
afternoon, as she came back from the letter-box with patient Mr.
Hopkins's overdue bill in her pocket, a wild certainty seized her, when
she saw how closely the curtains were drawn, and how still it seemed
inside his room, that firelight dalliance was going on.

She rang the bell, and imagined she heard whisperings inside while it
was being answered. Presently the light went up in the hall, and the
Major's Mrs. Dominic opened the door.

"The Major is in, I think, isn't he, Mrs. Dominic?" said Miss Mapp, in
her most insinuating tones.

"No, miss; out," said Dominic uncompromisingly. (Miss Mapp wondered if
Dominic drank.)

"Dear me! How tiresome, when he told me----" said she, with playful
annoyance. "Would you be very kind, Mrs. Dominic, and just see for
certain that he is not in his room? He may have come in."

"No, miss, he's out," said Dominic, with the parrot-like utterance of
the determined liar. "Any message?"

Miss Mapp turned away, more certain than ever that he was in and
immersed in dalliance. She would have continued to be quite certain
about it, had she not, glancing distractedly down the street, caught
sight of him coming up with Captain Puffin.

Meantime she had twice attempted to get up a cosy little party of four
(so as not to frighten the Contessa) to play bridge from tea till
dinner, and on both occasions the Faradiddleony (for so she had become)
was most unfortunately engaged. But the second of these disappointing
replies contained the hope that they would meet at their marketings
to-morrow morning, and though poor Miss Mapp was really getting very
tired with these innumerable visits to the post-box, whether wet or
fine, she set forth next morning with the hopes anyhow of finding out
whether the Contessa had been to tea with Major Flint, or on what day
she was going.... There she was, just opposite the post office, and
there--oh, shame!--was Major Benjy on his way to the tram, in
light-hearted conversation with her. It was a slight consolation that
Captain Puffin was there too.

Miss Mapp quickened her steps to a little tripping run.

"Dear Contessa, so sorry I am late," she said. "Such a lot of little
things to do this morning. (Major Benjy! Captain Puffin!) Oh, how
na