She sat up and looked at him, a dazed expression on her face.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’ve had a wonderful piece of luck,” he explained. “But you was so cross last night that I simply didn’t dare tell you about it.”
“Well, tell me now,” she said in a low voice.
“I had a sovereign given me by the young lady. You see, it was her birthday party, Ellen, and she’d come into a nice bit of money, and she gave each of us waiters a sovereign.”
Mrs. Bunting made no comment. Instead, she lay back and closed her eyes.
“What time d’you expect Daisy?” she asked languidly. “You didn’t say what time Joe was going to fetch her, when we was talking about it yesterday.”
“Didn’t I? Well, I expect they’ll be in to dinner.”
“I wonder, how long that old aunt of hers expects us to keep her?” said Mrs. Bunting thoughtfully. All the cheer died out of Bunting’s round face. He became sullen and angry. It would be a pretty thing if he couldn’t have his own daughter for a bit—especially now that they were doing so well!
“Daisy’ll stay here just as long as she can,” he said shortly. “It’s too bad of you, Ellen, to talk like that! She helps you all she can; and she brisks us both up ever so much. Besides, ’twould be cruel—cruel to take the girl away just now, just as she and that young chap are making friends-like. One would suppose that even you would see the justice o’ that!”