way
this evening, all the more welcome because it was quite unexpected!
The young lady at whose birthday party he had been present in
capacity of waiter had come into a fortune that day, and she had had
the gracious, the surprising thought of presenting each of the hired
waiters with a sovereign!

This gift, which had been accompanied by a few kind words, had gone
to Bunting's heart. It had confirmed him in his Conservative
principles; only gentlefolk ever behaved in that way; quiet,
old-fashioned, respectable, gentlefolk, the sort of people of whom
those nasty Radicals know nothing and care less!

But the ex-butler was not as happy as he should have been.
Slackening his footsteps, he began to think with puzzled concern of
how queer his wife had seemed lately. Ellen had become so nervous,
so "jumpy," that he didn't know what to make of her sometimes. She
had never been really good-tempered--your capable, self-respecting
woman seldom is--but she had never been like what she was now. And
she didn't get better as the days went on; in fact she got worse.
Of late she had been quite hysterical, and for no reason at all!
Take that little practical joke of young Joe Chandler. Ellen knew
quite well he often had to go about in some kind of disguise, and yet
how she had gone on, quite foolish-like--not at all as one would
have expected her to do.

There was another queer thing about her which disturbed him in more
senses than one. During the last three weeks or so Ellen had taken
to talking in her sleep. "No, no, no!" she had cried out, only the
night before. "It isn't true--I won't have it said--it's a lie!"
And there had been a wail of horrible fear and revolt in her usually
quiet, mincing voice.

******

Whew! it was cold; and he had stupidly forgotten his gloves.

He put his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, and began walking
more quickly.

As he tramped steadily along, the ex-butler suddenly caught sight
of his lodger walking along the opposite side of the solitary street
--one of those short streets leading off the broad road which
encircles Regent's Park.

Well! This was a funny time o' night to be taking a stroll for
pleasure, like!

Glancing across, Bunting noticed that Mr. Sleuth's tall, thin figure
was rather bowed, and that his head was bent toward the ground. His
left arm was thrust into his long Inverness cape, and so was quite
hidden, but the other side of the cape bulged out, as if the lodger