"Not on the twenty-eight shillings a week you get from me!"

"Quite true, sir," Arnold assented. "My circumstances were slightly
different at the time."

Mr. Weatherley hesitated. This young man's manner did not invite
confidences. On the other hand, he was genuinely curious about him.

"What made you come into the city, Chetwode?" he inquired. "You
don't seem altogether cut out for it--not that you don't do your
work and all that sort of thing," he went on, hastily. "I haven't a
word of complaint to make, mind. All the same, you certainly seem as
though you might have done a little better for yourself."

"It is the fault of circumstances, sir," Arnold replied. "I am
hoping that before long you will find that I do my work well enough
to give me a better position."

"You are ambitious, then?"

The face of the young man was suddenly grim.

"I mean to get on," he declared. "There were several years of my
life when I used to imagine things. I have quite finished with that.
I realize that there is only one way by means of which a man can
count."

Mr. Weatherley nodded ponderously.

"Well," he said, "let me see that your work is well done, and you