mean?"

"Well, sir," replied the man, "I notice at table, sir, for one thing.
We've been alone here off and on a good bit, sir, and he used always to
have a pleasant word or two to say to me, and may be to ask me questions
and that, sir; but for a long time lately he hardly seems to notice me.
Of course, there ain't any need of his saying anything, because I know
all he wants, seeing I've waited on him so long, but it's different in a
way, sir."

"Does he go out in the evening to his club?" asked John.

"Very rarely, sir," said Jeffrey. "He mostly goes to his room after
dinner, an' oftentimes I hear him walking up an' down, up an' down, and,
sir," he added, "you know he often used to have some of his friends to
dine with him, and that ain't happened in, I should guess, for a year."

"Have things gone wrong with him in any way?" said John, a sudden
anxiety overcoming some reluctance to question a servant on such a
subject.

"You mean about business, and such like?" replied Jeffrey. "No, sir, not
so far as I know. You know, Mr. John, sir, that I pay all the house
accounts, and there hasn't never been no--no shortness, as I might say,
but we're living a bit simpler than we used to--in the matter of wine
and such like--and, as I told you, we don't have comp'ny no more."

"Is that all?" asked John, with some relief.

"Well, sir," was the reply, "perhaps it's because Mr. Lenox is getting
older and don't care so much about such things, but I have noticed that
he hasn't had anything new from the tailor in a long time, and really,
sir, though perhaps I oughtn't to say it, his things is getting a bit
shabby, sir, and he used to be always so partic'lar."

John got up and walked over to the window which looked out at the rear
of the house. The words of the old servant disquieted him,
notwithstanding that there was nothing so far that could not be
accounted for without alarm. Jeffrey waited for a moment and then asked:

"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. John? Will you be having
luncheon here, sir?"

"No, thank you, Jeff," said John; "nothing more now, and I will lunch
here. I'll come down and see Ann presently."

"Thank you, sir," said Jeffrey, and withdrew.

The view from the back windows of most city houses is not calculated to
arouse enthusiasm at the best of times, and the day was singularly
dispiriting: a sky of lead and a drizzling rain, which emphasized the
squalor of the back yards in view. It was all ve