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Rh have no more duels in Tilling. I thought I should never survive that morning.”

“I will go and tell Mr. Wyse instantly&#8203;—&#8203;dear,” said Mrs. Poppit.

That would never do. True believers were so scarce that it was wicked to think of unsettling their faith.

“Poor Mr. Wyse!” said Miss Mapp with a magnanimous smile. “Do not think, dear, of troubling him with these little trumpery affairs. He will not take part in these little tittle-tattles. But if you could let dear Diva and quaint Irene and sweet Evie and the good Padre know that I laugh at all such nonsense—”

“But they laugh at it, too,” said Mrs. Poppit.

That would have been baffling for anyone who allowed herself to be baffled, but that was not Miss Mapp’s way.

“Oh, that bitter laughter!” she said. “It hurt me to hear it. It was envious laughter, dear, scoffing, bitter laughter. I heard! I cannot bear that the dear things should feel like that. Tell them that I say how silly they are to believe anything of the sort. Trust me, I am right about it. I wash my hands of such nonsense.”

She made a vivid dumb-show of this, and after drying them on an imaginary towel, let a sunny smile peep out of the eyes which she had rubbed.

“All gone!” she said; “and we will have a dear little party on Wednesday to show we are all friends again. And we meet for lunch at dear Mr. Wyse’s the next day? Yes? He will get tired of poor little me if he sees me two days running, so I shall not ask him. I will just try to get two tables together, and nobody shall contradict dear Diva, however many shillings she says she has won. I would sooner pay them all myself than have any more of our unhappy divisions. You will have