hear it all the better in the room. Don't think
she'll stop because of you, bless you! There's nothing shy about
our Daisy!"

The young man resented the tart, short tone. "Poor little girl!"
he said to himself tenderly. "That's what it is having a stepmother,
instead of a proper mother." But he obeyed Mrs. Bunting, and then
he was pleased he had done so, for Daisy looked up, and a bright
blush came over her pretty face.

"Joe begs you won't stop yet awhile. Go on with your reading,"
commanded Mrs. Bunting quickly. "Now, Joe, you can go and sit over
there, close to Daisy, and then you won't miss a word."

There was a sarcastic inflection in her voice, even Chandler noticed
that, but he obeyed her with alacrity, and crossing the room he went
and sat on a chair just behind Daisy. From there he could note with
reverent delight the charming way her fair hair grew upwards from
the nape of her slender neck.

"The AVENGER: A THE-O-RY"

began Daisy again, clearing her throat.

"DEAR Sir--I have a suggestion to put forward for which I think
there is a great deal to be said. It seems to me very probable
that The Avenger--to give him the name by which he apparently
wishes to be known--comprises in his own person the peculiarities
of Jekyll and Hyde, Mr. Louis Stevenson's now famous hero.

"The culprit, according to my point of view, is a quiet,
pleasant-looking gentleman who lives somewhere in the West End of
London. He has, however, a tragedy in his past life. He is the
husband of a dipsomaniac wife. She is, of course, under care, and
is never mentioned in the house where he lives, maybe with his
widowed mother and perhaps a maiden sister. They notice that he
has become gloomy and brooding of late, but he lives his usual life,
occupying himself each day with some harmless hobby. On foggy
nights, once the quiet household is plunged in sleep, he creeps out
of the house, maybe between one and two o'clock, and swiftly makes
his way straight to what has become The Avenger's murder area.
Picking out a likely victim, he approaches her with Judas-like
gentleness, and having committed his awful crime, goes quietly home
again. After a good bath and breakfast, he turns up happy, once
more the quiet individual who is an excellent son, a kind brother,
esteemed and even beloved by a large circle of friends and
acquaintances. Meantime, the police are searching about the scene
of the tragedy for what they regard as the usual type of cr