London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction
One day, entering the large room after hours, Lilian saw Millicent
typing on a machine not her own. As she passed she read the words: "My
darling Gertie. I simply can’t tell you how glad I was to get your
lovely letter." And it flashed across her that Millicent would relate
all the office doings to Gertie, who would relate them to Miss Grig.
She had a spasm of fear, divining that Millicent would misrepresent her.
In what phrases had Millicent told that Lilian had sat in Miss Grig’s
chair and interviewed applicants for situations! Was it not strange
that Gertie had not written to her, Lilian, nor she even thought of
writing to Gertie? Too late now for her to write to Gertie! A few days
later Mr. Grig said to Lilian in the small room:’
"You’re very crowded here, aren’t you?"
The two new-comers had been put into the small room, being of a superior
sort and not fitted to join the rabble.
"Oh, no!" said Lilian. "We’re quite comfortable, thank you."
"You don’t seem to be very comfortable. It occurs to me it would be
better in every way if you brought your machine into my room."
An impulse, and an error of judgment, on Felix’s part! But he was
always capricious.
"I should prefer to stay where I am," Lilian answered, not smiling.
What a letter Millicent would have written in order to describe Lilian’s
promotion to the principals’ room!
Often, having made a mistake, Felix would persist in it from obstinacy.
"Oh! As you like!" he muttered huffily, instead of recognizing by his
tone that Lilian was right. But the next moment he repeated, very
softly and kindly: "As you like! It’s for you to decide." He had not
once shown the least appreciation of, or gratitude for, Lilian’s zeal.
On the contrary, he had been in the main querulous and censorious. But
she did not mind. She was richly rewarded by a single benevolent
inflection of that stirring voice. She seemed to have forgotten that
she was born for pleasure, luxury, empire. Work fully satisfied her,
but it was work for him. The mere suggestion that she should sit in his
room filled her with deep joy.
V
The Martyr
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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