CHAPTER XXII.
Feeling amazingly light-hearted, almost light-headed, Bunting lit the gas-ring to make his wife her morning cup of tea.
While he was doing it, he suddenly heard her call out: "Bunting!" she cried weakly.

"Bunting!" Quickly he hurried in response to her call.

"Yes," he said.

"What is it, my dear?
I won't be a minute with your tea." And he smiled broadly, rather foolishly.
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.