The Essential E. F. Benson: 53+ Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). E. F. Benson

but it was too late to retreat, and they made the usual salutations.

      "Good-morning," said Diva, with her voice trembling. "Off to catch the early train together — I mean the tram."

      "Good-morning, Captain Puffin," said Miss Mapp with extreme sweetness. "What a nice little travelling bag! Oh, and the Major's got one too! H'm!"

      A certain dismay looked from Major Flint's eyes, Captain Puffin's mouth fell open, and he forgot to shut it.

      "Yes; change of clothes," said the Major. "It looks a threatening morning."

      "Very threatening," said Miss Mapp. "I hope you will do nothing rash or dangerous."

      There was a moment's silence, and the two looked from one face to another of this fell group. They all wore fixed, inexplicable smiles.

      "It will be pleasant among the sand-dunes," said the Padre, and his wife gave a loud squeak.

      "Well, we shall be missing our tram," said the Major. "Au — au reservoir, ladies."

      Nobody responded at all, and they hurried off down the street, their bags bumping together very inconveniently.

      "Something's up, Major," said Puffin, with true Tilling perspicacity, as soon as they had got out of hearing . . .

      * * *

      Precisely at the same moment Miss Mapp gave a little cooing laugh.

      "Now I must run and do my bittie shopping, Padre," she said, and kissed her hand all round . . . The curtain had to come down for a little while on so dramatic a situation. Any discussion, just then, would be an anticlimax.

      Chapter Nine

       Table of Contents

      Captain Puffin found but a sombre diarist when he came over to study his Roman roads with Major Flint that evening, and indeed he was a sombre antiquarian himself. They had pondered a good deal during the day over their strange reception in the High Street that morning and the recondite allusions to bags, sand-dunes and early trains, and the more they pondered the more probable it became that not only was something up, but, as regards the duel, everything was up. For weeks now they had been regarded by the ladies of Tilling with something approaching veneration, but there seemed singularly little veneration at the back of the comments this morning. Following so closely on the encounter with Miss Mapp last night, this irreverent attitude was probably due to some atheistical manœuvre of hers. Such, at least, was the Major's view, and when he held a view he usually stated it, did Sporting Benjy.

      "We've got you to thank for this, Puffin," he said. "Upon my soul, I was ashamed of you for saying what you did to Miss Mapp last night. Utter absence of any chivalrous feeling hinting that if she said you were drunk, you would say she was. She was as sober and lucid last night as she was this morning. And she was devilish lucid, to my mind, this morning."

      "Pity you didn't take her part last night," said Puffin. "You thought that was a very ingenious idea of mine to make her hold her tongue."

      "There are finer things in this world, sir, than ingenuity," said the Major. "What your ingenuity has led to is this public ridicule. You may not mind that yourself — you may be used to it — but a man should regard the consequences of his act on others . . . My status in Tilling is completely changed. Changed for the worse, sir."

      Puffin emitted his fluty, disagreeable laugh.

      "If your status in Tilling depended on a reputation for bloodthirsty bravery," he said, "the sooner it was changed the better. We're in the same boat: I don't say I like the boat, but there we are. Have a drink, and you'll feel better. Never mind your status."

      "I've a good mind never to have a drink again," said the Major, pouring himself out one of his stiff little glasses, "if a drink leads to this sort of thing."

      "But it didn't," said Puffin. "How it all got out, I can't say, nor for that matter can you. If it hadn't been for me last night, it would have been all over Tilling that you and I were tipsy as well. That wouldn't have improved our status that I can see."

      "It was in consequence of what you said to Mapp —" began the Major.

      "But, good Lord, where's the connection?" asked Puffin. "Produce the connection! Let's have a look at the connection! There ain't any connection! Duelling wasn't as much as mentioned last night."

      Major Flint pondered this in gloomy, sipping silence.

      "Bridge-party at Mrs Poppit's the day after tomorrow," he said. "I don't feel as if I could face it. Suppose they all go on making allusions to duelling and early trains and that? I shan't be able to keep my mind on the cards for fear of it. More than a sensitive man ought to be asked to bear."

      Puffin made a noise that sounded rather like "Fudge!"

      "Your pardon?" said the Major haughtily.

      "Granted by all means," said Puffin. "But I don't see what you're in such a taking about. We're no worse off than we were before we got a reputation for being such fire-eaters. Being fire-eaters is a washout, that's all. Pleasant while it lasted, and now we're as we were."

      "But we're not," said the Major. "We're detected frauds! That's not the same as being a fraud; far from it. And who's going to rub it in, my friend? Who's been rubbing away for all she's worth? Miss Mapp, to whom, if I may say so without offence, you behaved like a cur last night."

      "And another cur stood by and wagged his tail," retorted Puffin.

      This was about as far as it was safe to go, and Puffin hastened to say something pleasant about the hearthrug, to which his friend had a suitable rejoinder. But after the affair last night, and the dark sayings in the High Street this morning, there was little content or cosiness about the session. Puffin's brazen optimism was but a tinkling cymbal, and the Major did not feel like tinkling at all. He but snorted and glowered, revolving in his mind how to square Miss Mapp. Allied with her, if she could but be won over, he felt he could face the rest of Tilling with indifference, for hers would be the most penetrating shafts, the most stinging pleasantries. He had more too, so he reflected, to lose than Puffin, for till the affair of the duel the other had never been credited with deeds of bloodthirsty gallantry, whereas he had enjoyed no end of a reputation in amorous and honourable affairs. Marriage no doubt would settle it satisfactorily, but this bachelor life, with plenty of golf and diaries, was not to be lightly exchanged for the unknown. Short of that . . .

      A light broke, and he got to his feet, following the gleam and walking very lame out of general discomfiture.

      "Tell you what it is, Puffin," he said. "You and I, particularly you, owe that estimable lady a very profound apology for what happened last night. You ought to withdraw every word you said, and I every word that I didn't say."

      "Can't be done," said Puffin. "That would be giving up my hold over your lady friend. We should be known as drunkards all over the shop before you could say winkie. Worse off than before."

      "Not a bit of it. If it's Miss Mapp, and I'm sure it is, who has been spreading these — these damaging rumours about our duel, it's because she's outraged and offended, quite rightly, at your conduct to her last night. Mine, too, if you like. Ample apology, sir, that's the ticket."

      "Dog-ticket," said Puffin. "No thanks."

      "Very objectionable expression," said Major Flint. "But you shall do as you like. And so, with your permission, shall I. I shall apologize for my share in that sorry performance, in which, thank God, I only played a minor role. That's my view, and if you don't like it, you may dislike it."

      Puffin yawned.

      "Mapp's a cat," he said. "Stroke a cat and you'll get scratched. Shy a brick at a cat, and she'll spit at you and skedaddle. You're poor company tonight, Major, with all these qualms."

      "Then, sir, you can relieve yourself of my company," said the Major, "by going home."

      "Just