Part 27 (2/2)

”I looked out of the window, dear, while you went for your hanky and peeped into dining-room and boudoir, didn't you? There they were on the lawn, and they kissed each other. So I said to myself: 'Dear Susan has got him! Perseverance rewarded!'”

”H'm. Only a guess of yours. Or did Susan tell you?”

”No, dear, she said nothing. But Susan was always secretive.”

”But they might not have been engaged at all,” said Diva with a brightened eye. ”Man doesn't always marry a woman he kisses!”

Diva had betrayed the lowness of her mind now by hazarding that which had for days dwelt in Miss Mapp's mind as almost certain. She drew in her breath with a hissing noise as if in pain.

”Darling, what a dreadful suggestion,” she said. ”No such idea ever occurred to me. Secretive I thought Susan might be, but immoral, never.

I must forget you ever thought that. Let's talk about something less painful. Perhaps you would like to tell me more about the Contessa.”

Diva had the grace to look ashamed of herself, and to take refuge in the new topic so thoughtfully suggested.

”Couldn't see clearly,” she said. ”So dark. But tall and lean. Sneezed.”

”That might happen to anybody, dear,” said Miss Mapp, ”whether tall or short. Nothing more?”

”An eyegla.s.s,” said Diva after thought.

”A single one?” asked Miss Mapp. ”On a string? How strange for a woman.”

That seemed positively the last atom of Diva's knowledge, and though Miss Mapp tried on the principles of psycho-a.n.a.lysis to disinter something she had forgotten, the catechism led to no results whatever.

But Diva had evidently something else to say, for after finis.h.i.+ng her tea she whizzed backwards and forwards from window to fireplace with little grunts and whistles, as was her habit when she was struggling with utterance. Long before it came out, Miss Mapp had, of course, guessed what it was. No wonder Diva found difficulty in speaking of a matter in which she had behaved so deplorably....

”About that wretched dress,” she said at length. ”Got it stained with chocolate first time I wore it, and neither I nor Janet can get it out.”

(”Hurrah,” thought Miss Mapp.)

”Must have it dyed again,” continued Diva. ”Thought I'd better tell you.

Else you might have yours dyed the same colour as mine again.

Kingfisher-blue to crimson-lake. All came out of Vogue and Mrs. Trout.

Rather funny, you know, but expensive. You should have seen your face, Elizabeth, when you came in to Susan's the other night.”

”Should I, dearest?” said Miss Mapp, trembling violently.

”Yes. Wouldn't have gone home with you in the dark for anything.

Murder.”

”Diva dear,” said Miss Mapp anxiously, ”you've got a mind which likes to put the worst construction on everything. If Mr. Wyse kisses his intended you think things too terrible for words; if I look surprised you think I'm full of hatred and malice. Be more generous, dear. Don't put evil constructions on all you see.”

”Ho!” said Diva with a world of meaning.

”I don't know what you intend to convey by ho,” said Miss Mapp, ”and I shan't try to guess. But be kinder, darling, and it will make you happier. Thinketh no evil, you know! Charity!”

Diva felt that the limit of what was tolerable was reached when Elizabeth lectured her on the need of charity, and she would no doubt have explained tersely and unmistakably exactly what she meant by ”Ho!”

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