"You should have thought of that before you asked me to come to you," she said. "I thought of it a great deal," he replied calmly. There was much in what he said, as the girl recognized. She blamed herself for her hasty promise, but somehow the events of the previous night had placed him on a different footing, had given him a certain indefinable position to which the inebriate Mr. Beale had not aspired. "I am afraid I am rather bewildered by all the mystery of it," she said, "and I don't think I will come to the office to-day. To-morrow morning, at what hour?" "Ten o'clock," he said, "I will be there to explain your duties. Your salary will be L5 a week. You will be in charge of the office, to which I very seldom go, by the way, and your work will be preparing statistical returns of the wheat-crops in all the wheat-fields of the world for the last fifty years." "It sounds thrilling," she said, and a quick smile flashed across his face. "It is much more thrilling than you imagine," were his parting words. She reached Krooman Mansions just as the doctor was coming out, and he looked at her in surprise. "You are back early!" Should she tell him? There was no reason why she shouldn't. He had been a good friend of hers and she felt sure of his sympathy. It occurred to her at that moment that Mr. Beale had been most unsympathetic, and had not expressed one word of regret. "Yes, I've been discharged," she exclaimed. "Discharged? Impossible!" She nodded. "To prove that it is possible it has happened," she said cheerfully. "My dear girl, this is monstrous! What excuse did they give?" "None." This was said with a lightness of tone which did not reflect the indignation she felt at heart. "Did they give you no reason?" "They gave me none. They gave me my month's cheque and just told me to go off, and off I came like the well-disciplined wage-earner I am." "But it is monstrous," he said indignantly. "I will go and see them. I know one of the heads of the firm--at least, he is a patient of mine." "You will do nothing of the kind," she replied firmly. "It really doesn't matter." "What are you going to do? By Jove!" he said suddenly, "what a splendid idea! I want a clinical secretary." The humour of it got the better of her, and she laughed in his face. "What is the joke?" he asked. "Oh, I am so sorry, doctor, but you mustn't think I am ungrateful, but I am beginning to regard myself as one of the plums in the labour market." "Have you another position?" he asked quickly. "I have just accepted one," she said, and he did not disguise his disappointment, which might even have been interpreted, were Oliva more conceited, into absolute chagrin. "You are very quick," said he, and his voice had lost some of its enthusiasm. "What position have you taken?" "I am going into an office in the city," she said.