t home was a point on which Miss Mapp had
quite made up her mind. "Not a penny of that will the poor ever see,"
was the gist of her reflections when on disastrous days she paid him
seven-and-ninepence. She always called him "Padre," and had never
actually caught him looking over his adversaries' hands.

"Good morning, Padre," she said as soon as she perceived him. "What a
lovely day! The white butterflies were enjoying themselves so in the
sunshine in my garden. And the swallows!"

Miss Mapp, as every reader will have perceived, wanted to know whether
he was playing bridge this afternoon at the Poppits. Major Flint and
Captain Puffin certainly were, and it might be taken for granted that
Godiva Plaistow was. With the Poppits and herself that made six....

Mr. Bartlett was humorously archaic in speech. He interlarded archaisms
with Highland expressions, and his face was knobby, like a chest of
drawers.

"Ha, good morrow, fair dame," he said. "And prithee, art not thou even
as ye white butterflies?"

"Oh, Mr. Bartlett," said the fair dame with a provocative glance.
"Naughty! Comparing me to a delicious butterfly!"

"Nay, prithee, why naughty?" said he. "Yea, indeed, it's a day to make
ye little fowles rejoice! Ha! I perceive you are on the errands of the
guid wife Martha." And he pointed to the basket.

"Yes; Tuesday morning," said Miss Mapp. "I pay all my household books on
Tuesday. Poor but honest, dear Padre. What a rush life is to-day! I
hardly know which way to turn. Little duties in all directions! And you;
you're always busy! Such a busy bee!"

"Busy B? Busy Bartlett, quo' she! Yes, I'm a busy B to-day, Mistress
Mapp. Sermon all morning: choir practice at three, a baptism at six. No
time for a walk to-day, let alone a bit turn at the gowf."

Miss Mapp saw her opening, and made a busy bee line for it.

"Oh, but you should get regular exercise, Padre," said she. "You take no
care of yourself. After the choir practice now, and before the baptism,
you could have a brisk walk. To please me!"

"Yes. I had meant to get a breath of air then," said he. "But ye guid
Dame Poppit has insisted that I take a wee hand at the cartes with them,
the wifey and I. Prithee, shall we meet there?"

("That makes seven without me," thought Miss Mapp in parenthesis.) Aloud
she said:

"If I can squeeze it in, Padre. I have promised dear Isabel to do my
best."

"Well, and a lassie can do no mair," said he. "Au reservoir then.