After all, Daisy was his child; Ellen couldn't know how he was feeling.

He seemed to take the path in one leap, then fumbled for a moment with his latchkey.

Opening wide the door, "Daisy!" he called out, in a wailing voice, "Daisy, my dear! where are you?""Here I am, father.What is it?"

"She's all right " Bunting turned a grey face to his wife."She's all right Ellen."He waited a moment, leaning against the wall of the passage."It did give me a turn," he said, and then, warningly, "Don't frighten the girl, Ellen."Daisy was standing before the fire in their sitting room, admiring herself in the glass.

"Oh, father," she exclaimed, without turning round, "I've seen the lodger! He's quite a nice gentleman, though, to be sure, he does look a cure.He rang his bell, but I didn't like to go up; and so he came down to ask Ellen for something.We had quite a nice little chat - that we had.I told him it was my birthday, and he asked me and Ellen to go to Madame Tussaud's with him this afternoon." She laughed, a little self-consciously."Of course, I could see he was 'centric, and then at first he spoke so funnily.

'And who be you?' he says, threatening-like.And I says to him, 'I'm Mr.Bunting's daughter, sir.' 'Then you're a very fortunate girl ' - that's what he says, Ellen - 'to 'ave such a nice step-mother as you've got.That's why,' he says, 'you look such a good, innocent girl.' And then he quoted a bit of the Prayer Book.'Keep innocency,' he says, wagging his head at me.Lor'!

It made me feel as if I was with Old Aunt again.""I won't have you going out with the lodger - that's flat."Bunting spoke in a muffled, angry tone.He was wiping his forehead with one hand, while with the other he mechanically squeezed the little packet of tobacco, for which, as he now remembered, he had forgotten to pay.

Daisy pouted."Oh, father, I think you might let me have a treat on my birthday! I told him that Saturday wasn't a very good day -at least, so I'd heard - for Madame Tussaud's.Then he said we could go early, while the fine folk are still having their dinners."She turned to her stepmother, then giggled happily."He particularly said you was to come, too.The lodger has a wonderful fancy for you, Ellen; if I was father, I'd feel quite jealous!"Her last words were cut across by a, tap-tap on the door.

Bunting and his wife looked at each other apprehensively.Was it possible that, in their agitation, they had left the front door open, and that someone, some merciless myrmidon of the law, had crept in behind them?

Both felt a curious thrill of satisfaction when they saw that it was only Mr.Sleuth - Mr.Sleuth dressed for going out; the tall hat he had worn when he had first come to them was in his hand, but he was wearing a coat instead of his Inverness cape.

"I heard you come in " - he addressed Mrs.Bunting in his high, whistling, hesitating voice - "and so I've come down to ask you if you and Miss Bunting will come to Madame Tussaud's now.I have never seen those famous waxworks, though I've heard of the place all my life."As Bunting forced himself to look fixedly at his lodger, a sudden doubt bringing with it a sense of immeasurable relief, came to Mr.Sleuth's landlord.

Surely it was inconceivable that this gentle, mild-mannered gentleman could be the monster of cruelty and cunning that Bunting had now for the terrible space of four days believed him to be!

He tried to catch his wife's eye, but Mrs.Bunting was looking away, staring into vacancy.She still, of course, wore the bonnet and cloak in which she had just been out to do her marketing.Daisy was already putting on her hat and coat.

"Well?" said Mr.Sleuth.Then Mrs.Bunting turned, and it seemed to his landlady that he was looking at her threateningly."Well?""Yes, sir.We'll come in a minute," she said dully.