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“By the way, on Saturday next—” began Diva.

“I know, dear,” said Miss Mapp. “Major Flint told me. It seemed quite to interest him. Now I must pop into the stationer’s—”

Diva was really very obtuse.

“I’m popping in there, too,” she said. “Want a time-table of the trains.”

Wild horses would not have dragged from Miss Mapp that this was precisely what she wanted.

“I only wanted a little ruled paper,” she said. “Why, here’s dear Evie popping out just as we pop in! Good morning, sweet Evie. Lovely day again.”

Mrs. Bartlett thrust something into her basket which very much resembled a railway time-table. She spoke in a low, quick voice, as if afraid of being overheard, and was otherwise rather like a mouse. When she was excited she squeaked.

“So good for the harvest,” she said. “Such an important thing to have a good harvest. I hope next Saturday will be fine; it would be a pity if he had a wet day. We were wondering, Kenneth and I, what would be the proper thing to do, if he came over for service​—​oh, here is Kenneth!”