The Lodger by Marie Belloc Lowndes Page B

eccentric women rather than eccentric
men, in her long career as useful maid.
      Being at ordinary times an exceptionally sensible,
well-balanced woman, she had never, in old days, allowed her mind
to dwell on certain things she had learnt as to the aberrations of
which human nature is capable - even well-born, well-nurtured,
gentle human nature - as exemplified in some of the households
where she had served. It would, indeed, be unfortunate if she now
became morbid or - or hysterical.
      So it was in a sharp, cheerful voice, almost the
voice in which she had talked during the first few days of Mr.
Sleuth's stay in her house, that she exclaimed, "Well, sir, I'll be
up again to clear away in about half an hour. And if you'll forgive
me for saying so, I hope you will stay in and have a rest to-day.
Nasty, muggy weather - that's what it is! If there's any little
thing you want, me or Bunting can go out and get it."
    ***
      It must have been about four o'clock when there came
a ring at the front door.
      The three were sitting chatting together, for Daisy
had washed up - she really was saving her stepmother a good bit of
trouble - and the girl was now amusing her elders by a funny
account of Old Aunt's pernickety ways.
      "Whoever can that be?" said Bunting, looking up.
"It's too early for Joe Chandler, surely."
      "I'll go," said his wife, hurriedly jumping up from
her chair. "I'll go! We don't want no strangers in here."
      And as she stepped down the short bit of passage she
said to herself, "A clue? What clue?"
      But when she opened the front door a glad sigh of
relief broke from her. "Why, Joe? We never thought 'twas you! But
you're very welcome, I'm sure. Come in."
      And Chandler came in, a rather sheepish look on his
good-looking, fair young face. "I thought maybe that Mr. Bunting
would like to know - " he began, in a loud, cheerful voice, and
Mrs. Bunting hurriedly checked him. She didn't want the lodger
upstairs to hear what young Chandler might be going to say.
      "Don't talk so loud," she said a little sharply.
"The lodger is not very well to-day. He's had a cold," she added
hastily, "and during the last two or three days he hasn't been able
to go out."
      She wondered at her temerity, her - her hypocrisy,
and that moment, those few words, marked an epoch in Ellen
Bunting's life. It was the first time she had told a bold and
deliberate lie. She was one of those women - there are many, many
such - to whom there is a whole world of difference between the
suppression of the truth and the utterance of an untruth.
      But Chandler paid no heed to her remarks. "Has Miss
Daisy arrived?" he asked, in a lower voice.
      She nodded. And then he went through into the room
where the father and daughter were sitting.
      "Well?" said Bunting, starting up. "Well, Joe? Now
you can tell us all about that mysterious clue I suppose it'd be
too good news to expect you to tell us they've caught him?"
      "No fear of such good news as that yet awhile. If
they'd caught him," said Joe ruefully, "well, I don't suppose I
should be here, Mr. Bunting. But the Yard are circulating a
description at last. And - well, they've found his weapon!"
      "No?" cried Bunting excitedly. "You don't say so!
Whatever sort of a thing is it? And are they sure 'tis his?"
      "Well, 'tain't sure, but it seems to be likely."
      Mrs. Bunting had slipped into the room and shut the
door behind her. But she was still standing with her back against
the door, looking at the group in front of her. None of them were
thinking of her - she thanked God for that! She could hear
everything that was said without joining in the talk and
excitement.
      "Listen to this!" cried Joe Chandler exultantly.
"'Tain't given out yet - not for the public, that is - but we was
all given it by eight o'clock this morning. Quick work that eh?" He
read out:
      "WANTED
      A man, of age approximately 28, slight in figure,
height approximately 5 ft. '8 in.