she
said. "Of course, I was a fool to go all that way, just on chance
of finding a doctor in. It stands to reason they've got to go out
to people at all times of day."

"I hope they gave you a cup of tea?" he said.

And again she hesitated, debating a point with herself: if the
doctor had a decent sort of servant, of course, she, Ellen Bunting,
would have been offered a cup of tea, especially if she explained
she'd known him a long time.

She compromised. "I was offered some," she said, in a weak, tired
voice. "But there, Bunting, I didn't feel as if I wanted it. I'd
be very grateful for a cup now--if you'd just make it for me over
the ring."

"'Course I will," he said eagerly. "You just come in and sit down,
my dear. Don't trouble to take your things off now--wait till
you've had tea."

And she obeyed him. "Where's Daisy?" she asked suddenly. "I thought
the girl would be back by the time I got home."

"She ain't coming home to-day"--there was an odd, sly, smiling look
on Bunting's face.

"Did she send a telegram?" asked Mrs. Bunting.

"No. Young Chandler's just come in and told me. He's been over
there and,--would you believe it, Ellen?--he's managed to make
friends with Margaret. Wonderful what love will do, ain't it? He
went over there just to help Daisy carry her bag back, you know,
and then Margaret told him that her lady had sent her some money
to go to the play, and she actually asked Joe to go with them this
evening--she and Daisy--to the pantomime. Did you ever hear o'
such a thing?"

"Very nice for them, I'm sure," said Mrs. Bunting absently. But
she was pleased--pleased to have her mind taken off herself. "Then
when is that girl coming home?" she asked patiently.

"Well, it appears that Chandler's got to-morrow morning off too--
this evening and to-morrow morning. He'll be on duty all night,
but he proposes to go over and bring Daisy back in time for early
dinner. Will that suit you, Ellen?"

"Yes. That'll be all right," she said. "I don't grudge the girl
her bit of pleasure. One's only young once. By the way, did the
lodger ring while I was out?"

Bunting turned round from the gas-ring, which he was watching to
see the kettle boil. "No," he said. "Come to think of it, it's
rather a funny thing, but the truth is, Ellen, I never gave Mr.
Sleuth a thought. You see, Chandler came in and was telling me all
about Margaret, laughing-like, and then something else happened
while you was out, Ellen