foot above his head. “Such pleasant evenings one always has there, I hope it will not be a wet evening, but the glass is sadly down. Oh, Withers, Captain Puffin is going. Good morning, Captain Puffin. Such a pleasure!”
Miss Mapp hummed a rollicking little tune as she observed him totter down the street.
“There!” she said, and had a glass of Burgundy for lunch as a treat.
CHAPTER X
THE news that Mr. Wyse was to be of the party that evening at Mrs. Poppit’s and was to dine there first, en famille (as he casually let slip in order to air his French), created a disagreeable impression that afternoon in Tilling. It was not usual to do anything more than “have a tray” for your evening meal, if one of these winter bridge-parties followed, and there was, to Miss Mapp’s mind, a deplorable tendency to ostentation in this dinner-giving before a party. Still, if 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
