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Once in her house Miss Mapp postponed her good-nights to her sweet flowers, and hurried with the utmost speed of which she was capable to her garden-room, in order to see what her companions were doing. They were standing in the middle of the street, and Major Flint, with gesticulating forefinger, was being very impressive over something.…

Interesting as was Miss Mapp’s walk home, and painful as was the light which it had conceivably thrown on the problem that had baffled her for so long, she might have been even more acutely disgusted had she lingered on with the rest of the bridge-party in Mrs. Poppit’s garden, so revolting was the sycophantic loyalty of the newly-decorated Member of the British Empire.… She described minutely her arrival at the Palace, her momentary nervousness as she entered the Throne-room, the instantaneousness with which that all vanished when she came face to face with her Sovereign.

​“I assure you, he gave the most gracious smile,” she said, “just as if we had known each other all our lives, and I felt at home at once. And he said a few words to me​—​such a beautiful voice he has. Dear Isabel, I wish you had been there to hear it, and then—”