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“I hope you saw him well, Mrs. Poppit,” said Miss Mapp, “after meeting two trains, and taking all that trouble.”

“Saw who?” said Mrs. Poppit with a deplorable lack both of manner and grammar. “Why”—light seemed to break on her odious countenance. “Why, you don’t think that was the Prince, do you, Miss Mapp? He arrived here at one, so the station-master has just told me, and has been playing golf all afternoon.”

​The Major looked at the Captain, and the Captain at the Major. It was months and months since they had missed their Saturday afternoon’s golf.

“It was the Prince of Wales who looked out of that car-window,” said Miss Mapp firmly. “Such a pleasant smile. I should know it anywhere.”

“The young man who got into the car at the station was no more the Prince of Wales than you are,” said Mrs. Poppit shrilly. “I was close to him as he came out: I curtsied to him before I saw.”

Miss Mapp instantly changed her attack: she could hardly hold her smile on to her face for rage.

“How very awkward for you,” she said. “What a laugh they will all have over it this evening! Delicious!”