"Of course not! He’s very pleased, really. But he has to save his face." Milly gave Lilian a scarcely conscious glance of admiration, as a woman better versed than herself in the mysteries of men, and also as a woman of unsuspected courage. And she behaved like an angel through the whole industrious night--so much so that Lilian was nearly ready to admit to an uncharitable premature misjudgment of the girl. "And now what are you going to do about keeping open?" inquired Mr. Grig, with bland, grim triumph the next afternoon to the exhausted Lilian and the exhausted Millicent. "I thought I’d let you have your own way last night. But you can’t see any further than your noses, either of you. You’re both dead." "I can easily stay up another night," said Lilian desperately, but Millicent said nothing. "No doubt!" Mr. Grig sneered. "You look as if you could! And supposing you do, what about to-morrow night? The whole office is upset, and, of course, people must go and choose just this time to choke us with work!" "Well, anyhow, we can’t close," Lilian stoutly insisted. "No!" Mr. Grig unexpectedly agreed. "Miss Merrislate, you know most about the large room. You’d better pick two of ’em out of there, and tell ’em they must stay and do the best they can by themselves. But that won’t carry us through. _I_ certainly shan’t sit up, and I won’t have you two sitting up every second night in turn. There’s only one thing to do. I must engage two new typists at once--that’s clear. We may as well face the situation. Where do we get ’em from?" But neither Lilian nor Milly knew just how Miss Grig was in the habit of finding recruits to the staff. Each of them had been taken on through private connexions. Gertie Jackson would probably have known how to proceed, but Gertie was down with influenza. "I’ll tell you what I shall do," said Mr. Grig at last. "I’ll get an advertisement into to-morrow’s _Daily Chronicle_. That ought to do the trick. This affair’s got to be handled quickly. When the applicants come you’d better deal with ’em, Miss Share--in my room. I shan’t be here to-morrow." He spoke scornfully, and would not listen to offers of help in the matter of the advertisement. He would see to it himself, and wanted no assistance, indeed objected to assistance as being merely troublesome. The next day was the day of Miss Grig’s operation, and the apprehension of it maddened this affectionate and cantankerous brother. Millicent left the small room to bestow upon two chosen members of the rabble in the large room the inexpressible glory of missing a night’s sleep.