When Mrs. Bunting went back to the others they were chatting merrily. She did not notice that the merriment was confined to the two young people.
"Well?" said Daisy pertly. "How about the lodger, Ellen? Is he all right?"
"Yes," she said stiffly. "Of course he is!"
"He must feel pretty dull sitting up there all by himself—awful lonely-like, I call it," said the girl.
But her stepmother remained silent.
"Whatever does he do with himself all day?" persisted Daisy.
"Just now he’s reading the Bible," Mrs. Bunting answered, shortly and dryly.
"Well, I never! That’s a funny thing for a gentleman to do!"
And Joe, alone of her three listeners, laughed—a long hearty peal of amusement.
"There’s nothing to laugh at," said Mrs. Bunting sharply. "I should feel ashamed of being caught laughing at anything connected with the Bible."
And poor Joe became suddenly quite serious. This was the first time that Mrs. Bunting had ever spoken really nastily to him, and he answered very humbly, "I beg pardon. I know I oughtn’t to have laughed at anything to do with the Bible, but you see, Miss Daisy said it so funny-like, and, by all accounts, your lodger must be a queer card, Mrs. Bunting."
"He’s no queerer than many people I could mention," she said quickly; and with these enigmatic words she got up, and left the room.
