"Here’s something wanted for eleven in the morning. It’s going to be called for. Proof of a witness’s evidence in a law case. Very urgent. It’s pretty long. You’d better get on to it at once. Then one or two of them’ll be able to finish it between nine and eleven." Lilian accused him in her mind of merely imitating his sister’s methods of organization and partition. "I’m afraid I can’t put this aside, Mr. Grig," she said gravely, uncompromisingly. "What is it?" "It’s just come in." "I never heard anybody," Felix snapped. Lilian thought how queer and how unjust it was that she should be prevented by her inferior station from turning on him and bluntly informing him that he had been asleep instead of managing the office. "It’s an article by Lord Mackworth for to-morrow’s _Evening Standard_, and it has to be at the _Standard_ office by half-past eight, and I’ve promised to have it delivered at Jermyn Street by six-thirty." "But who’s going to deliver it?" "I am, as I go home." "But this is urgent too. And, what’s more, I’ve definitely promised it," Mr. Grig protested, waving his manuscript somewhat forlornly. "What length’s yours?" "It’s not the length. It has to be done with the greatest care." "Yes, that’s all very well, but----" His attitude of helplessness touched her. She smiled in her serious manner. "If you’ll leave it to me to see to, Mr. Grig," she said soothingly, and yet a little superiorly, "I’ll do the best I can. I’ll start it, anyhow. And I’ll leave an urgent note for Miss Jackson about it. After all, in two hours they ought to be able to do almost anything, and you know how reliable Miss Jackson is. Miss Grig always relies on her." She held out her hand for the wretched manuscript. Mr. Grig yielded it up, pretending unwillingness and uneasiness, but in reality much relieved. A quarter of an hour later he returned to her room in overcoat and hat. "I think I may as well go home now," said he, yawning enormously. "I’m a bit anxious about my sister. Nothing else likely to come in, is there? You’ll be all right, I suppose." "_Me!_" she exclaimed kindly. "Of _course_, Mr. Grig. I shall be perfectly all right." She wondered whether he really was anxious about his sister. At any rate, he had not the stamina to sit up through all the night in the office. But she, Lilian, had. She was delighted to be alone again. She finished Lord Mackworth’s article, read it and re-read it. Not a mistake. She bound it and stitched it. She entered the item in the night-book. She made out the bill. She typed the address on the envelope. Then, before fastening the envelope, she read through everything again. All these things she did with the greatest deliberation and nicety.