She was quite sure she knew the best way to manage the work better than those who had been at it for years; she was brimful of eagerness to distinguish herself, and of a _kind_ of enthusiasm; she was energetic and hard-working, but she was entirely without deference. And underlying all her talk about the dignity of labour, the contemptibleness of an ordinary woman's home-life, was a strong, though, unexpressed belief that she was doing the society no small honour in working for it, and that, by some instinct which she did not seek to define, the society should be aware of the fact. The result of all this can be easily imagined. Though valuable as a steady and zealous worker, she was entirely inexperienced, and want of compliance with the rules was not to be endured. "We can get scores of girls better fitted for the post at any moment," said the much-worried secretary in reply to Mr Montague's entreaties that they would give his protegee another trial. And in reality it was far more owing to the skilful pleadings, made in all good faith, of Hertha's friend, as to the importance of the salary to a girl so placed, the disappointment her dismissal would cause to her friends as well as to herself, than from any conviction of Miss Maryon's special abilities, that the secretary at last gave in. He knew Mr Montague well, and his post had given him exceptional opportunities for the cultivation of discernment. "Are you _sure_," he said towards the close of the interview, looking up with a keen glance from under his bushy eyebrows, "are you _sure_ this girl is really so dependent on her work? There is no story about her that we have not been told, is there? It's no case of a self-willed young woman running away from home--an uncongenial stepmother, or any nonsense exaggerated into importance? She is not a girl to give in, even if in the wrong." Mr Montague started. "What makes you fancy such a thing?" he asked. The secretary considered. "I can scarcely say--an impression, perhaps. Still there are trifling circumstances--she is very careless about money, thinks nothing of hansoms, for instance. And you know one of her great offences has been giving charity without permission, and, naturally, most injudiciously--" He gave an impatient exclamation. "Enough to bring our whole society into disrepute," he said, "contravening its very _raison-d'etre_." Mr Montague felt uncomfortable, and yet he had no real grounds for misgiving. "I can only repeat the reason of any interest I feel in her," he said, "and that is that she is a friend of Miss Norreys--the last woman in the world to aid or abet any silly girl in the sort of conduct you suggest." The secretary's brow cleared. "True," he said, "I had forgotten."