"Rather a gloomy person, eh ?" "I found him very pleasant, sir," Arnold said.

"He was good enough to ask me to dine with him to-night." Mr.Weatherley looked up, a little startled.
"Invited you to dine with him ?" he repeated.
Arnold nodded.
"I thought it was very kind of him, sir." Mr.Weatherley sat quite still in his chair.

He had obviously forgotten his secretary's presence in the room, and Arnold, who had seated himself at his desk and was engaged in sorting out some papers, took the opportunity now and then to glance up and scrutinize with some attention his employer's features.

There were certainly traces there of the change at which Mr.Jarvis had hinted.
Mr.Weatherley had the appearance of a man who had once been florid and prosperous and comfortable-looking, but who had been visited by illness or some sort of anxiety.

His cheeks were still fat, but they hung down toward the jaw, and his eyes were marked with crowsfeet.
His color was unhealthy.