bruptness, and the air of a
man forced into an action against which something within him protested,
he said:

"Mr. Malling, you are the only person I know who, having been acquainted
with Henry Chichester, has at last met him again after a prolonged
interval of separation. Two years, you said. People who see a man from
day to day observe very little or nothing. Changes occur and are not
noticed by them. A man and his wife live together and grow old. But does
either ever notice when the face of the other begins first to lose its
bloom, to take on that peculiar, unmistakable stamp that the passage of
the years sets on us all? Few of us really see what is always before us.
But the man who comes back--he sees. Tell me the honest truth, I beg of
you. Do you or do you not, see a great change in Henry Chichester?"

The rector's voice had risen while he spoke, till it almost clamored for
reply. His eyes were more clamorous still, insistent in their demand upon
Malling. Nevertheless voice and eyes pushed Malling toward caution.
Something within him said, "Be careful what you do!" and, acting
surprise, he answered:

"Chichester changed! In what way?"

The rector's countenance fell.

"You haven't observed it?"

"Remember I've only seen him to-day and walking in the midst of crowds."

"Quite true! Quite true!"

Mr. Harding meditated for a minute, and then said:

"Mr. Malling, I daresay my conduct to-day may surprise you. You may think
it odd of me to be so frank, seeing that you and I have not met before.
But Stepton has told me so much about you that I cannot feel we are quite
strangers. I should like you to have an opportunity of observing Henry
Chichester without prejudice. I will say nothing more. But if I invite
you to meet him, in my house or elsewhere, will you promise me to come?"

"Certainly, if I possibly can."

"And your address?"

Malling stopped and, smiling, pointed to the number outside a house.

"You live here?"

Mr. Harding took a small book and a pencil from his pocket and noted down
the address.

"Good-by," he said. "I live in Onslow Gardens--Number 89."

"Thank you. Good-by."

The two men shook hands. Then Mr. Harding went on his way toward South
Kensington, while Malling inserted his latch-key into the door of Number
7b, Cadogan Square.

II

Evelyn Malling was well accustomed to meeting with strange people and
making investigations into strange occurrences. He was not easily
su