h procured for him admittance at his second attempt sounded
both flurried and startled. Mr. Weatherley had the air of one who
has been engaged in some criminal task. He drew the blotting-paper
over the letter which he had been writing as Arnold entered.

"Oh! it's you, is it, Chetwode?" he remarked, with an air of
relief. "So you're back, eh? Pleasant luncheon?"

"Very pleasant indeed, thank you, sir," Arnold replied.

"Mrs. Weatherley send any message?" her husband asked, with
ill-assumed indifference.

"None at all, sir."

Mr. Weatherley sighed. He seemed a little disappointed.

"Did you lunch at the Carlton?"

"We took our coffee there afterwards," Arnold said. "We lunched at a
small foreign restaurant near Oxford Street."

"The Count Sabatini was there?"

"Yes, sir," Arnold told him. "Also Mr. Starling."

Mr. Weatherley nodded slowly.

"How do you get on with Count Sabatini?" he inquired. "Rather a
gloomy person, eh?"

"I found him very pleasant, sir," Arnold said. "He was good enough
to ask me to dine with him to-night."

Mr. Weatherley looked up, a little startled.

"Invited you to dine with him?" he repeated.

Arnold nodded.

"I thought it was very kind of him, sir."

Mr. Weatherley sat quite still in his chair. He had obviously
forgotten his secretary's presence in the room, and Arnold, who had
seated himself at his desk and was engaged in sorting out some
papers, took the opportunity now and then to glance up and
scrutinize with some attention his employer's features. There were
certainly traces there of the change at which Mr. Jarvis had hinted.
Mr. Weatherley had the appearance of a man who had once been florid
and prosperous and comfortable-looking, but who had been visited by
illness or some sort of anxiety. His cheeks were still fat, but they
hung down toward the jaw, and his eyes were marked with crowsfeet.
His color was unhealthy. He certainly had no longer the look of a
prosperous and contented man.

"Chetwode," he said slowly, after a long pause, "I am not sure that
I did you a kindness when I asked you to come to my house the other
night."

"I thought so, at any rate, sir," Arnold replied. "It has been a
great pleasure to me to make Mrs. Weatherley's acquaintance."

"I am glad that my wife has been kind to you," Mr. Weatherley
continued, "but I hope you will not misunderstand me, Chetwode, when
I say that I am not sure that such kindness is for your good. Mrs.
Weatherley's