noticed it."

Mr. Weatherley relit his cigar, which had gone out while he dozed.

"Thought we'd like a little country air ourselves for the week-end,"
he remarked. "Will you smoke?"

Arnold shook his head.

"Not just now, thank you, sir. Is that the river through the trees
there?"

Mr. Weatherley nodded.

"It's about a hundred yards down the stream," he replied.
"Bourne End is the nearest station. The cottage belongs to my
brother-in-law--Sabatini. I believe he's coming down later on. Any
news at the office yesterday morning?"

"There was nothing whatever requiring your attention, sir," Arnold
said. "There are a few letters which we have kept over for
to-morrow, but nothing of importance."

Mr. Weatherley pursed his lips and nodded. He asked a further
question or two concerning the business and then turned his head at
the sound of approaching footsteps. Ruth, looking very pale and
fragile, was leaning on the arm of a man-servant. Fenella walked on
the other side, her lace parasol drooping over her shoulder, her
head turned towards Ruth's, whose shyness she was doing her best to
melt. Mr. Weatherley rose hastily from his chair.

"God bless my soul!" he declared. "I didn't know--you didn't tell
me--"

"Miss Lalonde has been a great sufferer," Arnold said. "She has been
obliged to spend a good deal of her time lying down. For that
reason, to-day has been such a pleasure to her."

He hurried forward and took the butler's place. Together they
installed her in the most comfortable chair. Mr. Weatherley came
over and shook hands with her.

"Pretty place, this, Miss Lalonde, isn't it?" he remarked. "It's a
real nice change for business men like Mr. Chetwode and myself to
get down here for an hour or two's quiet."

"It is wonderfully beautiful," she answered. "It is so long since I
was out of London that perhaps I appreciate it more, even, than
either of you."

"What part of London do you live in?" Fenella asked her.

"My uncle and I have rooms in the same house as Mr. Chetwode," she
replied. "It is in Adam Street, off the Strand."

"Not much air there this hot weather, I don't suppose," Mr.
Weatherley remarked.

"We are on the top floor," she replied, "and it is the end house,
nearest to the river. Still, one feels the change here."

Tea was brought out by the butler, assisted by a trim parlor-maid.
Fenella presided. The note of domesticity which her action involved
seemed to Arnold, for some reason o