Daisy, wearing the blue-and-white check silk dress about which her stepmother and she had had words, sat on a low stool on the left side of the fire, while Bunting, leaning back in his own comfortable arm-chair, was listening, his hand to his ear, in an attitude—as it was the first time she had caught him doing it, the fact brought a pang to Mrs. Bunting—which showed that age was beginning to creep over the listener. One of Daisy’s duties as companion to her great-aunt was that of reading the newspaper aloud, and she prided herself on her accomplishment. Just as Joe had put his finger on his lip Daisy had been asking, “Shall I read this, father?” And Bunting had answered quickly, “Aye, do, my dear.” He was absorbed in what he was hearing, and, on seeing Joe at the door, he had only just nodded his head. The young man was becoming so frequent a visitor as to be almost one of themselves. Daisy read out: “THE AVENGER: A—” And then she stopped short, for the next word puzzled her greatly. Bravely, however, she went on. “A the-o-ry.” “Go in—do!” whispered Mrs. Bunting to her visitor. “Why should we stay out here in the cold? It’s ridiculous.” “I don’t want to interrupt Miss Daisy,” whispered Chandler back, rather hoarsely. “Well, you’ll hear it all the better in the room. Don’t think she’ll stop because of you, bless you! There’s nothing shy about our Daisy!” The young man resented the tart, short tone. “Poor little girl!” he said to himself tenderly. “That’s what it is having a stepmother, instead of a proper mother.” But he obeyed Mrs. Bunting, and then he was pleased he had done so, for Daisy looked up, and a bright blush came over her pretty face. “Joe begs you won’t stop yet awhile. Go on with your reading,” commanded Mrs. Bunting quickly. “Now, Joe, you can go and sit over there, close to Daisy, and then you won’t miss a word.” There was a sarcastic inflection in her voice, even Chandler noticed that, but he obeyed her with alacrity, and crossing the room he went and sat on a chair just behind Daisy. From there he could note with reverent delight the charming way her fair hair grew upwards from the nape of her slender neck. “THE AVENGER: A THE-O-RY” began Daisy again, clearing her throat.