Arnold smiled.

“That is all very well, Mr. Jarvis,” he said, “but you must remember that Mrs. Weatherley had compensations for her lack of wealth.  She is very beautiful, and she is, too, of a different social rank.”

Mr. Jarvis was frankly scornful.

“Why, she was a foreigner,” he declared.  “I should like to know of what account any foreign family is against our good city firms, such as I have been speaking of.  No, Chetwode, my opinion is that she’s brought a lot of her miserable, foreign hangers-on over here, and that somehow or other they are worrying Mr. Weatherley.  I should like, if I could, to interest you in the chief.  You can’t be expected to feel as I do towards him.  At the same time, he is the head of the firm, and you are bound, therefore, to feel a certain respect due to him, and I thought that if I talked to you and put these matters before you, which have occurred not only to me but to those others who have been with Mr. Weatherley for so many years, you might be able to help us by watching, and if you can find any clue as to what is bothering him, why, I’d be glad to hear of it, for there isn’t one of us who wouldn’t do anything that lay in his power to have the master back once more as he used to be a few years ago.  Why, the business seems to have lost all its spring, nowadays,” Mr. Jarvis went on, mournfully.  “We do well, of course, because we couldn’t help doing well, but we plod along more like a machine.  It was different altogether in the days when Mr. Weatherley used to bring out the morning orders himself and chaff us about selling for no profit.  You follow me, Chetwode?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Arnold agreed.  “Of course, I see your point of view, and I must admit that the governor does seem depressed about something or other.”

“If anything turns up,” Mr. Jarvis asked eagerly, “anything tangible, I mean, you’ll tell me of it, won’t you, there’s a good fellow?  Of course, I suppose your future is outside my control now, but I engaged you first, you know, Chetwode.  There aren’t many things done here that I haven’t a say in.”

“You may rely upon me,” Arnold promised, slipping down from the barrel.  “He’s really quite a decent old chap, and if I can find out what’s worrying him, and can help, I’ll do it.”

Mr. Jarvis went back to his labors and Arnold made his way to Mr. Weatherley’s room.  His first knock remained unanswered.  The “Come in!” which procured for him admittance at his second attempt sounded both flurried and startled.  Mr. Weatherley had the air of one who has been engaged in some criminal task.  He drew the blotting-paper over the letter which he had been writing as Arnold entered.

“Oh! it’s you, is it, Chetwode?” he remarked, with an air of relief.  “So you’re back, eh?  Pleasant luncheon?”

“Very pleasant indeed, thank you, sir,” Arnold replied.

“Mrs. Weatherley send any message?” her husband asked, with ill-assumed indifference.