Mrs. Bunting neither nodded nor shook her head. Slowly she went downstairs, and there she carried out half of Bunting’s advice. She took, that is, the chain off the front door. But she did not go to bed, neither did she lock herself in. She sat up all night, waiting. At half-past seven she made herself a cup of tea, and then she went into her bedroom. Daisy opened her eyes. “Why, Ellen,” she said, “I suppose I was that tired, and slept so sound, that I never heard you come to bed or get up—funny, wasn’t it?” “Young people don’t sleep as light as do old folks,” Mrs. Bunting said sententiously. “Did the lodger come in after all? I suppose he’s upstairs now?” Mrs. Bunting shook her head. “It looks as if ’twould be a fine day for you down at Richmond,” she observed in a kindly tone. And Daisy smiled, a very happy, confident little smile. That evening Mrs. Bunting forced herself to tell young Chandler that their lodger had, so to speak, disappeared. She and Bunting had thought carefully over what they would say, and so well did they carry out their programme, or, what is more likely, so full was young Chandler of the long happy day he and Daisy had spent together, that he took their news very calmly. “Gone away, has he?” he observed casually. “Well, I hope he paid up all right?” “Oh, yes, yes,” said Mrs. Bunting hastily. “No trouble of that sort.” And Bunting said shamefacedly, “Aye, aye, the lodger was quite an honest gentleman, Joe. But I feel worried, about him. He was such a poor, gentle chap—not the sort o’ man one likes to think of as wandering about by himself.” “You always said he was ’centric,” said Joe thoughtfully. “Yes, he was that,” said Bunting slowly. “Regular right-down queer. Leetle touched, you know, under the thatch,” and, as he tapped his head significantly, both young people burst out laughing. “Would you like a description of him circulated?” asked Joe good-naturedly. Mr. and Mrs. Bunting looked at one another. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet awhile at any rate. ’Twould upset him awfully, you see.” And Joe acquiesced. “You’d be surprised at the number o’ people who disappears and are never heard of again,” he said cheerfully. And then he got up, very reluctantly. Daisy, making no bones about it this time, followed him out into the passage, and shut the sitting-room door behind her. When she came back she walked over to where her father was sitting in his easy chair, and standing behind him she put her arms round his neck. Then she bent down her head. “Father,” she said, “I’ve a bit of news for you!” “Yes, my dear?” “Father, I’m engaged! Aren’t you surprised?” “Well, what do _you_ think?” said Bunting fondly. Then he turned round and, catching hold of her head, gave her a good, hearty kiss. “What’ll Old Aunt say, I wonder?” he whispered.