Fortune, the butler, came in, a thin grizzled man in decent black. Perhaps you had better give your instructions, Nutley, Chase said from the window-seat as the solicitor glanced at him with conventional hesitation. “I’m speaking for Mr. Chase, Fortune,” said Mr. Nutley. “Your late mistress’s will unfortunately isn’t very satisfactory, and Blackboys will be in the market before very long. We want you to stay on until then, with such help as you need, and you must tell the other servants they have all a month’s notice. By the way, you inherit five hundred pounds under the will, but it’ll be some time before you get it.” “Blackboys in the market?” Fortune began. “Oh, my good man, don’t start lamenting again here,” exclaimed Mr. Nutley hurriedly; “think of those five hundred pounds—a very nice little sum of which we should all be glad, I’m sure.” “Dear me, dear me,” said Mr. Farebrother, much distressed, and he got up and patted Fortune on the shoulder. Nutley was collecting the papers again into a neat packet, boxing them together on the table as though they had been a pack of cards. He glanced up to say, “That settled, Fortune? Then we needn’t keep you any longer; thanks. Well, Mr. Chase, if there’s anything we can do for you to-morrow, you have only to ring me up or Farebrother—oh, I forgot, of course, you aren’t on the telephone here.” Chase, who had been thinking to himself that Nutley was a splendid man—really efficient, a first-class man, was suddenly aware that he resented the implied criticism. “I can go to the post-office if I want to telephone,” he said coldly. Mr. Farebrother noticed the coldness in his tone, and thought regretfully, “Dear me, Nutley has offended him—ignored him completely all the time. I ought to have put that right—very remiss of me.” He said aloud, “If Mr. Chase would prefer not to sleep in the house, I should be very glad to offer him hospitality....” “Afraid of the old lady’s ghost, Chase?” said Mr. Nutley with a laugh that concealed a sneer. They all laughed, with exception of Mr. Farebrother, who was pained. Chase was tired; he wished they would go; he wanted to be alone. II