That afternoon McQuiston called Annie Wooley into his private office and told her that her services would not be needed any longer, and that in lieu of notice the clerk would give her two weeks' salary. "Can I call up here for references?" Annie asked. "Certainly. But you had better ask for me, personally. You must know there has been some criticism of you here in the office, Miss Wooley." "What about?" Annie asked boldly. "Well, a young girl like you cannot render so much personal service to her employer as you did to Mr. Wanning without causing unfavorable comment. To be blunt with you, for your own good, my dear young lady, your services to your employer should terminate in the office, and at the close of office hours. Mr. Wanning was a very sick man and his judgment was at fault, but you should have known what a girl in your station can do and what she cannot do." The vague discomfort of months flashed up in little Annie. She had no mind to stand by and be lectured without having a word to say for herself. "Of course he was sick, poor man!" she burst out. "Not as anybody seemed much upset about it. I wouldn't have given up my half-holidays for anybody if they hadn't been sick, no matter what they paid me. There wasn't anything in it for me." McQuiston raised his hand warningly. "That will do, young lady. But when you get another place, remember this: it is never your duty to entertain or to provide amusement for your employer." He gave Annie a look which she did not clearly understand, although she pronounced him a nasty old man as she hustled on her hat and jacket. When Annie reached home she found Willy Steen sitting with her mother and sister at the dining-room table. This was the first day that Annie had gone to the office since Wanning's death, and her family awaited her return with suspense. "Hello yourself," Annie called as she came in and threw her handbag into an empty armchair. "You're off early, Annie," said her mother gravely. "Has the will been read?" "I guess so. Yes, I know it has. Miss Wilson got it out of the safe for them. The son came in. He's a pill." "Was nothing said to you, daughter?" "Yes, a lot. Please give me some tea, mother." Annie felt that her swagger was failing. "Don't tantalize us, Ann," her sister broke in. "Didn't you get anything?" "I got the mit, all right. And some back talk from the old man that I'm awful sore about." Annie dashed away the tears and gulped her tea. Gradually her mother and Willy drew the story from her. Willy offered at once to go to the office building and take his stand outside the door and never leave it until he had punched old Mr. McQuiston's face. He rose as if to attend to it at once, but Mrs. Wooley drew him to his chair again and patted his arm.