Edith often looked at him in wondering surprise; he seemed not in the least like the man whom she had loved; it is true the features were the same, but—where was the cultivated ease of manner, where the grace which had been so attractive; the clear, open expression of countenance which had distinguished the man she loved above his fellows? This discontented, rebellious soul looked out from under frowning brows; the brilliant blue eyes had a wary, suspicious look; the movements were awkward, the speech uncouth. “Oh, Gus, how changed he is!” cried Edith. “Yes, I scarcely know what to do; if one could but wake him in some way!” said Gus, sadly. A year or more passed by; as he regained strength he developed strange desires; he absented himself from home for days together. Edith remonstrated: “Why do you do so, Arthur?” He answered her coarsely, like an undisciplined youth: “I do not think I need a keeper!” Edith burst into tears: “I did not mean that; but you know—that—that—I am lonely when you are away,” she faltered. A half-frightened look passed over his face, and was gone instantly, to be succeeded by a perplexed scowl. “You act as though you owned me!” he said brutally. Edith regarded him in pained surprise: “Arthur!” The single word expressed much. He left the house, slamming the door after himself. He began about this time assuming control of the business; things seemed to go wrong from that hour, and he appeared to have lost all judgment; heavy losses followed in rapid succession. He angrily resented advice, and Gus became so annoyed that he took him to task. “See here, old man! You are going it a bit wild—you had best check up!” Arthur’s moody eyes lit up with an angry flame: “Any person would think that you had the whole say so,” he sneered. “You know, Arthur, that I have no wish to control, except for the mutual good. Great heaven, Arthur! You are ruining us!” cried Gus, aggravated into speaking his mind. Arthur looked moodily down, and like a child caught in some misdemeanor, grumbled out: “Any person is liable to make a mistake.” Gus looked at him curiously: “I’ve a great notion to pull out; I do not propose getting caught under the wreck when the crash comes,” said he angrily. “Oh, well, get some one to do the work in my place, if you feel so terribly worried,” quite as angrily retorted Arthur. A couple of weeks later Gus did put another man into the office; Arthur seemed rather relieved than otherwise. Gus was talking to Edith a few days later; they had been speaking of Arthur, and incidentally of Wilbur the new man: “He seems to understand his business; he has a way of going at it, as though he had been in that office all his life; actually, as he sank into that big, green chair, he sighed with satisfaction.” “Tell me how he looks,” said Edith.