he looked curiously out of place in this
unwholesome, gaslit building with its atmosphere of cheese and
bacon. He would have been noticeably good-looking upon the cricket
field or in any gathering of people belonging to the other side of
life. Here he seemed almost a curiously incongruous figure. He
passed through the glass-paned door and stood respectfully before
his employer. Mr. Weatherley--it was absurd, but he scarcely knew
how to make his suggestion--fidgetted for a moment and coughed. The
young man, who, among many other quite unusual qualities, was
possessed of a considerable amount of tact, looked down upon his
employer with a little well-assumed anxiety. As a matter of fact, he
really was exceedingly anxious not to lose his place.

"I understood from Mr. Jarvis that you wished to speak to me, sir,"
he remarked. "I hope that my work has given satisfaction? I know
that I am quite inexperienced but I don't think that I have made any
mistakes."

Mr. Weatherley was, to tell the truth, thankful for the opening.

"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
been gently corrected by his courteous employer. As it was, Mr