failed. All that he could do was to maintain his
attitude of intelligent interest.

"I don't know any one at the club," continued his employer,
irritably. "I feel like a fish out of water there, and that's the
truth, Mr. Jarvis. It's a good club. I got elected there--well,
never mind how--but it's one thing to be a member of a club, and
quite another to get to know the men there. You understand that, Mr.
Jarvis."

Mr. Jarvis, however, did not understand it. He could conceive of no
spot in the city of London, or its immediate neighborhood, where Mr.
Samuel Weatherley, head of the firm of Messrs. Weatherley & Co.,
could find himself among his social superiors. He knew the capital
of the firm, and its status. He was ignorant of the other things
which counted--as ignorant as his master had been until he had paid
a business visit a few years ago, in search of certain edibles, to
an island in the Mediterranean Sea. He was to have returned in
triumph to Tooley Street and launched upon the provision-buying
world a new cheese of astounding quality and infinitesimal
price--instead of which he brought home a wife.

"Anything I can do, sir," began Mr. Jarvis, a little vaguely,--

"My idea was," Mr. Weatherley proceeded, "that one of my own young
men--there are twelve of them in there, aren't there?" he added,
jerking his head in the direction of the office--"might do. What do
you think?"

Mr. Jarvis nodded thoughtfully.

"It would be a great honor, sir," he declared, "a very great honor
indeed."

Mr. Weatherley did not contradict him. As a matter of fact, he was
of the same opinion.

"The question is which," he continued.

Mr. Jarvis began to understand why he had been consulted. His
fingers involuntarily straightened his tie.

"If I could be of any use personally, sir,--"

His employer shook his head.

"My wife would expect me to bring a single man, Jarvis," he said,
"and besides, I don't suppose you play bridge."

"Cards are not much in my line," Mr. Jarvis admitted, "not having,
as a rule, the time to spare, but I can take a hand at loo, if
desired."

"My wife's friends all play bridge," Mr. Weatherley declared, a
little brusquely. "There's only one young man in the office, Jarvis,
who, from his appearance, struck me as being likely."

"Mr. Stephen Tidey, of course, sir," the confidential clerk agreed.
"Most suitable thing, sir, and I'm sure his father would accept it
as a high compliment. Mr. Stephen Tidey