been gently corrected by his courteous employer. As it was, Mr.
Weatherley felt dimly confident that this junior clerk of his was
more accustomed to eight o'clock dinners than he was himself.

"A quarter to, to-night," he replied. "People coming for bridge
afterwards, you see. I live up Hampstead way--Pelham Lodge--quite
close to the tube station."

Mr. Weatherley omitted the directions he had been about to give
respecting toilet, and turned away. His youthful employee's manners,
to the last, were all that could be desired.

"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said. "I will take care to be
punctual."

Mr. Weatherley grunted and walked out into the street. Here his
behavior was a little singular. He walked up toward London Bridge,
exchanging greetings with a good many acquaintances on the way.
Opposite the London & Westminster Bank he paused for a moment and
looked searchingly around. Satisfied that he was unobserved, he
stepped quickly into a very handsome motor car which was drawn up
close to the curb, and with a sigh of relief sat as far back among
the cushions as possible and held the tube to his mouth.

"Get along home," he ordered, tersely.

* * * * *

Arnold Chetwode, after his interview with his employer, returned
unruffled to his place. Mr. Jarvis bustled in after him. He was