of
reason. Daisy'll be a very foolish girl if she allows her aunt to
know any of her secrets. I've only seen that woman once, but I know
exactly the sort Margaret is. She's just waiting for Old Aunt to
drop off and then she'll want to have Daisy herself--to wait on
her, like. She'd turn quite nasty if she thought there was a young
fellow what stood in her way."

She glanced at the dock, the pretty little eight-day clock which
had been a wedding present from a kind friend of her last mistress.
It had mysteriously disappeared during their time of trouble, and
had as mysteriously reappeared three or four days after Mr. Sleuth's
arrival.

"I've time to go out with that telegram," she said briskly--somehow
she felt better, different to what she had done the last few days--
"and then it'll be done. It's no good having more words about it,
and I expect we should have plenty more words if I wait till the
child comes upstairs again."

She did not speak unkindly, and Bunting looked at her rather
wonderingly. Ellen very seldom spoke of Daisy as "the child"
--in fact, he could only remember her having done so once before,
and that was a long time ago. They had been talking over their
future life together, and she had said, very solemnly, "Bunting,
I promise I will do my duty--as much as lies in my power, that
is--by the child."

But Ellen had not had much opportunity of doing her duty by Daisy.
As not infrequently happens with the duties that we are willing to
do, that particular duty had been taken over by someone else who
had no mind to let it go.

"What shall I do if Mr. Sleuth rings?" asked Bunting, rather
nervously. It was the first time since the lodger had come to them
that Ellen had offered to go out in the morning.

She hesitated. In her anxiety to have the matter of Daisy settled,
she had forgotten Mr. Sleuth. Strange that she should have done so
--strange, and, to herself, very comfortable and pleasant.

"Oh, well, you can just go up and knock at the door and say I'll be
back in a few minutes--that I had to go out with a message. He's
quite a reasonable gentleman." She went into the back room to put
on her bonnet and thick jacket for it was very cold--getting colder
every minute.

As she stood, buttoning her gloves--she wouldn't have gone out
untidy for the world--Bunting suddenly came across to her. "Give
us a kiss, old girl," he said. And his wife turned up her face.

"One 'ud think it was catching!" she