She knew it for the front door bell.
Mrs.Bunting frowned.

No doubt the ring betokened one of those tiresome people who come round for old bottles and such-like fal-lals.
She went slowly, reluctantly to the door.

And then her face cleared, for it was that good young chap, Joe Chandler, who stood waiting outside.
He was breathing a little hard, as if he had walked over-quickly through the moist, foggy air.
"Why, Joe ?" said Mrs.Bunting wonderingly.

"Come in--do! Bunting's out, but he won't be very long now.

You've been quite a stranger these last few days." "Well, you know why, Mrs.Bunting--" She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he could mean.