ulder. Arnold
was puzzled.

"Look up, Ruth dear," he begged. "I want you to look now--look along
the lighted way and hold my hand very tightly. Don't you think that,
after all, one of your ships has come home?"

She lifted her face, wet with tears, and looked in the direction
where he pointed. Arnold, who felt nothing himself but a thrill of
pleasure at his new quarters, was puzzled at a certain trouble which
he seemed to see in her features, a faint hopelessness of
expression. She looked where he pointed but there was none of the
eager expectancy of a few weeks ago.

"It is beautiful, Arnold," she murmured, "but I can't talk just
now."

"I am going to leave you to get over it," he declared. "I'm off now
to fetch the luggage. You won't be afraid to be left here?"

She shook her head. A certain look of relief flashed across her
face.

"No, I shall not be afraid," she answered.

He wheeled the easy-chair up to the window which he had flung wide
open. He placed a cushion at the back of her head and left her with
a cheerful word. She heard his steps go down the corridor, the
rattle of the lift as it descended. Then her lips began to tremble
and the sobs to shake her shoulders. She held out her hands toward
that line of lights at which he had pointed, and her fingers were
clenched.

"It is because--I am like this!" she cried, half hysterically. "I
don't count!"

CHAPTER XXIX

COUNT SABATINI VISITS

There was an air of subdued excitement about the offices of Messrs.
Samuel Weatherley & Company from nine until half-past on the
following morning. For so many years his clerks had been accustomed
to see Mr. Weatherley stroll in somewhere about that time, his cigar
in his mouth, his silk hat always at the same angle, that it seemed
hard for them to believe that this morning they would not hear the
familiar footstep and greeting. Every time a shadow passed the
window, heads were eagerly raised. The sound of the bell on the
outside door brought them all to their feet. They were all on tiptoe
with expectation. The time, however, came and passed. The letters
were all opened, and Mr. Jarvis and Arnold were occupying the
private office. Already invoices were being distributed and orders
entered up. The disappearance of Mr, Weatherley was a thing
established.

Mr. Jarvis was starting the day in a pessimistic frame of mind.

"You may take my word for it, Chetwode," he said solemnly to his
companion, after he h