dinary, every-
day reason could explain the extraordinary happenings of this afternoon!
She was so stunned and bewildered that she forgot to watch the effect
of the great synopsis on the Editor-in-chief, and so missed a delightful
study in expressions, as The Duck's irritation gave place to smiles and
dimpling spasms of amusement. It was only after she had finished the
reading (after all the labour of production what a short time it took to
read), and had asked a word of explanation, that Dreda seemed suddenly
galvanised into fresh life, but as usual with her, when the awakening
came, it came with a vengeance. She leapt to her feet, and disregarding
the question, launched her thunderbolt with dramatic vehemence.

"Miss Drake, I wish to resign being editor."

"Do you, Etheldreda? Why?"

The voice was so calm, Miss Drake's whole manner so devoid of surprise
or chagrin, that Dreda felt as if a douche of cold water had been
suddenly poured down her back. No kindly protests, no encouragement, no
sympathy. Nothing but that cool, level "_Why_?" She stood gaping and
hesitating, for in truth it was hard to answer. To say that she was
sick of the whole thing because she had encountered a few initial
difficulties and worries seemed mean and poor-spirited, and Dreda could
not think so lightly of herself. In the minute of hesitation she had
lightly brushed aside difficulties, and felt a swelling of righteous
renunciation.

"Because--I want Susan to take it. She would do better than I."

"Have you only just discovered that, Dreda?"

The question was put in a tone which Dreda had never heard before from
Miss Drake's lips--a tone so tender, so gentle and conciliatory, that it
startled as much as the words themselves. Dreda stared, the colour
paling on her cheeks, her hands clenched at the back of her chair. What
did it mean? Susan had volunteered her services, and Miss Drake had
deliberately rejected them in favour of herself, and now she said, she
implied-- The girl's lips quivered as she spoke again:

"You _chose_ me!"

"Why?" asked Miss Drake once more, in the same gentle voice. "_Why_,
Dreda? Think a moment! Does it not occur to you, dear, that I might
have chosen you, not because the work needed _you_, but because you
needed the work? Your duties called for patience, and perseverance, and
method, and punctuality, and neatness, and tact--all qualities which
needed development in your case; while in Susan's-