"The lodger is not very well to-day.

He's had a cold," she added hastily, "and during the last two or three days he hasn't been able to go out." She wondered at her temerity, her--her hypocrisy, and that moment, those few words, marked an epoch in Ellen Bunting's life.

It was the first time she had told a bold and deliberate lie.

She was one of those women--there are many, many such--to whom there is a whole world of difference between the suppression of the truth and the utterance of an untruth.
But Chandler paid no heed to her remarks.

"Has Miss Daisy arrived ?" he asked, in a lower voice.
She nodded.