ons. Finally Joan plucked up her courage one
morning in the second week, and invaded Miss Bacon's private office.

"What about my shorthand?" she inquired from just within the doorway;
"when shall I begin?"

Miss Bacon had changed her shoes for a pair of bedroom slippers and was
occupying the arm-chair, immersed in the newspaper. She started at
Joan's abrupt question, the movement jerking the glasses from off her
nose. She picked them up nervously and blinked at Joan.

"What did you say?--shorthand? Oh, yes, of course! It is really Edith's
duty to take you in that; still, as she is not here, I propose to
dictate to you myself after lunch. My first duty in the mornings is to
master the newspaper; there might be some openings advertised." She
turned again to her news-sheet. "Why not employ yourself practising on
the typewriter?" she suggested.

Joan would have liked to reply that she was tired of practising
sentences on the typewriter and hungry for some real work to do, but she
had not the heart to be unkind to the poor little woman. She spent a
disconsolate morning and stayed out for lunch longer than usual. On her
return Miss Bacon was waiting for her on the top of the stairs.

"My dear," she said in an excited voice, "some work has come in. A man
has just brought it, and he must have it by to-morrow morning. I hope
you will be able to get it done, for I have promised, and a lot may
depend on it."

So much depended on it that she herself decided to help Joan with the
work. She was not, it appeared, even as experienced as Joan, and by 6.30
the two of them had only completed about half the typing. Joan's back
ached and her fingers tingled, but Miss Bacon's eyes behind the glasses
were strained to the verge of tears, two hectic spots of colour burned
in her cheeks and her fingers stumbled and faltered over the keys.

As the clock struck seven Joan straightened herself with a sigh of
relief.

"It is no use," she said, "we cannot get it done; he will have to wait
for his silly old papers."

The blood died suddenly out of Miss Bacon's face, her mouth trembled.
"It must be done," she answered; "you do not understand. It is the first
work that has been brought to us for weeks. The man is a stranger; if it
is well done and up to time he will give us some more; besides he will
pay"--for a second she lifted her eyes and looked at Joan--"I must have
the money," she said.

Her face, working under the stress of some stro