down to the kitchen again, then I must"—she turned to her stepdaughter, and the girl flew out of the room.
"I think the child grows prettier every minute," said Bunting fondly.
"Folks are too apt to forget that beauty is but skin deep," said his wife. She was beginning to feel better. "But still, I do agree, Bunting, that Daisy’s well enough. And she seems more willing, too."
"I say, we mustn’t forget the lodger’s dinner," Bunting spoke uneasily. "It’s a bit of fish to-day, isn’t it? Hadn’t I better just tell Daisy to see to it, and then I can take it up to him, as you’re not feeling quite the thing, Ellen?"
"I’m quite well enough to take up Mr. Sleuth’s luncheon," she said quickly. It irritated her to hear her husband speak of the lodger’s dinner. They had dinner in the middle of the day, but Mr. Sleuth had luncheon. However odd he might be, Mrs. Bunting never forgot her lodger was a gentleman.
"After all, he likes me to wait on him, doesn’t he? I can manage all right. Don’t you worry," she added after a long pause.
