he admitted, "that that might be your point of
view. It isn't, of course, possible to look for any feeling of
loyalty for the chief from any one who has only been here a matter
of a few months. Perhaps I was wrong to have spoken to you at all,
Chetwode."

"If there is anything I can do," Arnold began,--

"It's in this way," Mr. Jarvis interrupted. "Owing, I dare say, to
Mrs. Weatherley, you have certainly been put in a unique position
here. You see more of Mr. Weatherley now than any one of us. For
that reason I was anxious to make a confidant of you. I tell you
that I am worried about Mr. Weatherley. He is a rich man and a
prosperous man. There is no reason why he should sit in his office
and gaze into the fire and look out of the window as though the
place were full of shadows and he hated the sight of them. Yet that
is what he does nowadays, Chetwode. What does it mean? I ask you
frankly. Haven't you noticed yourself that his behavior is
peculiar?"

"Now you mention it," Arnold replied, "I certainly have noticed that
he was very strange in his manner this morning. He seemed very upset
about that Rosario murder. Mr. Rosario was at his house the other
night, you know. Were they great friends, do you think?"

Mr. Jarvis shook his head.

"Not at all," he said. "He was simply, I believe, one of Mrs.
Weatherley's society acquaintances. But that there's something gone
wrong with Mr. Weatherley, no one would deny who sees him as he is
now and knows him as he was a year or so ago. There's Johnson, the
foreman packer, who's been here as long as I have; and Elwick, the
carter; and Huemmel, in the export department;--we've all been
talking together about this."

"He doesn't speculate, I suppose?" Arnold enquired.

"Not a ha'penny," Mr. Jarvis replied, fervently. "He has spent large
sums of money since his marriage, but he can afford it. It isn't
money that's worrying him."

"Perhaps he doesn't hit it off with his wife," Arnold remarked.

Mr. Jarvis drew a little breath. For a moment he was speechless. To
him it seemed something like profanity that this young man should
make so casual a suggestion.

"Mrs. Weatherley, sir," he declared, "was, I believe, without any
means whatever when Mr. Weatherley made her his wife. Mr.
Weatherley, as you know, is at the head of this house, the house of
Samuel Weatherley & Co., bankers Lloyds. It should be the business
of the lady, sir, to see that she hits it off, as you put it, w