Suddenly some one caught sight of her, there was a sort of murmur, "Miss Vivian!" and in one moment self-consciousness invaded the room. Those who were sitting down stood up, trying to look at ease; little Miss Anthony, who had been manipulating the bread-cutting machine with great success all the afternoon, at once cut her finger with it, and some one else suddenly dropped a mug with a reverberating clatter. "Miss Cox!" She sprang forward nervously. "Yes, Miss Vivian?" "How many sandwiches have you got ready?" "Sixteen hundred, Miss Vivian. That'll be two for each man, and they're very large." "Cut another hundred, for reserve." "Yes, Miss Vivian." They began to work again, this time speaking almost in whispers. Char turned away. Her personality, as usual, had had its effect. Nearly twenty minutes later the station-master came up to her on the platform. "She'll be in directly now, Miss Vivian. Just signalled." Char wheeled smartly back to the waiting-room and gave the word of command. Within five minutes the urns and trays were all in place on the tables, and each worker was at her appointed stand. Char had indicated beforehand, as she always did, the exact duties of each one. "That's a smart bit of work," the station-master remarked admiringly. "Ah, well, you see, I've been at the job some time now," said Miss Vivian, pleased. She never pretended to look upon her staff as anything but a collection of pawns, to be placed or disposed of by a master hand. And it was part of that strength of personality that lay at the back of all her powers of organization, which had given the majority of her staff exactly the same impression as her own of their relative positions with regard to the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt. VIII Char moved up and down the length of the train. She never carried any of the laden trays herself, but she saw to it that no man missed his mug of steaming tea and supply of sandwiches and cake, and she exerted all the affability and charm of which she held the secret, in talking to the soldiers. The packets of cigarettes with which she was always laden added to her popularity, and when the train steamed slowly out of the station again the men raised a cheer. "Three cheers for Miss Vivian!" Her name had passed like lightning from one carriage to another. "Hooray-ay." They hung out of the window, waving their caps, and Char stood at the end of the platform, heedless of the rain now pouring down on her, and waved until the train was out of sight. "Start washing up and packing the things at once." "Yes, Miss Vivian." The waiting-room was already seething and full of steam from the zinc pans of boiling water into which mugs and knives were being flung with deafening clatter. "Here, chuck me a dry cloth! Mine's wringing." "Oh, look out, dear! You're splashing your uniform like anything." "I've got such a lot of work waiting for me when I get back to the office."