t by herself with Mr. Chandler?
Ellen was so prim, so--so irritatingly proper. But what was this
father was saying? "D'you really mean that, Joe?"

"Yes, of course I do!"

"Well, then, look here! If it isn't asking too much of a favour, I
should like to go along there with you very much one day. I don't
want to wait till The Avenger's caught"--Bunting smiled broadly.
"I'd be quite content as it is with what there is in that museum
o' yours. Ellen, there,"--he looked across at his wife--"don't
agree with me about such things. Yet I don't think I'm a
bloodthirsty man! But I'm just terribly interested in all that sort
of thing--always have been. I used to positively envy the butler
in that Balham Mystery!"

Again a look passed between Daisy and the young man--it was a look
which contained and carried a great many things backwards and
forwards, such as--"Now, isn't it funny that your father should
want to go to such a place? But still, I can't help it if he does
want to go, so we must put up with his company, though it would
have been much nicer for us to go just by our two selves." And
then Daisy's look answered quite as plainly, though perhaps Joe
didn't read her glance quite as clearly as she had read his: "Yes,
it is tiresome. But father means well; and 'twill be very pleasant
going there, even if he does come too."

"Well, what d'you say to the day after to-morrow, Mr. Bunting? I'd
call for you here about--shall we say half-past two?--and just
take you and Miss Daisy down to the Yard. 'Twouldn't take very
long; we could go all the way by bus, right down to Westminster
Bridge." He looked round at his hostess: "Wouldn't you join us,
Mrs. Bunting? 'Tis truly a wonderful interesting place."

But his hostess shook her head decidedly. "'Twould turn me sick,"
she exclaimed, "to see the bottle of poison what had done away with
the life of some poor creature!

"And as for knives--!" a look of real horror, of startled fear,
crept over her pale face.

"There, there!" said Bunting hastily. "Live and let live--that's
what I always say. Ellen ain't on in this turn. She can just
stay at home and mind the cat--I beg his pardon, I mean the lodger!"

"I won't have Mr. Sleuth laughed at," said Mrs. Bunting darkly.
"But there! I'm sure it's very kind of you, Joe, to think of giving
Bunting and Daisy such a rare treat"--she spoke sarcastically, but
none of the three who heard her understood that.

CHAPTER IX

The moment