"I have had no complaints, Chetwode," he admitted, struggling for
that note of condescension which he felt to be in order. "No
complaints at all. I was wondering if you--you happened to play
bridge?"

Once more this extraordinary young man showed himself to be
possessed of gifts quite unusual at his age. Not by the flicker of
an eyelid did he show the least surprise or amusement.

"Bridge, sir," he repeated. "Yes, I have played at--I have played
occasionally."

"My wife is giving a small dinner-party this evening," Mr.
Weatherley continued, moving his umbrella from one hand to the other
and speaking very rapidly, "bridge afterwards. We happen to be a man
short. I was to have called at the club to try and pick up some
one--find I sha'n't have time--meeting at the Cannon Street Hotel to
attend. Would you--er--fill the vacant place? Save me the trouble of
looking about."

It was out at last and Mr. Weatherley felt unaccountably relieved.
He felt at the same time a certain measure of annoyance with his
junior clerk for his unaltered composure.

"I shall be very much pleased, sir," he answered, without
hesitation. "About eight, I suppose?"

Again Mr. Weatherley's relief was tempered with a certain amount of
annoyance. This young man's _savoir faire_ was out of place. He
should have imagined a sort of high-tea supper at seven o'clock, and