miss grig came back to the office on a thursday, and somewhat mysteriously. millicent, no doubt from information received through gertie jackson, had been hinting for several days that the return would not be long delayed; but mr. grig had said not one word about the matter until the wednesday evening, when he told lilian, with apparent casualness, as she was leaving for the night, that his sister might be expected the next morning. as for miss jackson, she would resume her duties only on the monday, having family affairs to transact at islington. miss jackson, it seemed, had developed into the trusted companion and intimate--almost ally, if the term were not presumptuous--of the soul and dynamo of the business. miss grig and she had suffered together, they had solaced and strengthened each other; and gertie, for all her natural humility, was henceforth to play in the office a rôle superior to that of a senior employee. she had already been endowed with special privileges, and among these was the privilege of putting the interests of islington before the interests of clifford street.

the advent of miss grig, of course, considerably agitated the office and in particular the small room, two of whose occupants had never seen the principal of whose capacity for sustained effort they had heard such wonderful and frightening tales.

at nine-thirty that thursday morning it was reported in both rooms that miss grig had re-entered her fortress. nobody had seen her, but ears had heard her, and, moreover, it was mystically known by certain signs, as, for example, the reversal of a doormat which had been out of position for a week, that a higher presence was immanent in the place and that the presence could be none other than miss grig. everybody became an exemplar of assiduity, amiability, and entire conscientiousness. everybody prepared a smile; and there was a universal wish for the day to be over.

shortly after ten o'clock miss grig visited the small room, shook hands with lilian and millicent, and permitted the two new typists to be presented to her. millicent spoke first and was so effusive in the expression of the delight induced in her by the spectacle of miss grig and of her sympathy for the past and hope for the future of miss grig's health, that lilian, who nevertheless did her best to be winning, could not possibly compete with her. miss grig had a purified and chastened air, as of one detached by suffering from the grossness and folly of the world, and existing henceforth in the world solely from a cold, passionate sense of duty. her hair was greyer, her mild equable voice more soft, and her burning eyes had a brighter and more unearthly lustre. she said that she was perfectly restored, let fall that mr. grig had gone away at her request for a short, much-needed holiday, and then passed smoothly on to the large room.

after a while a little flapper of a beginner came to tell millicent that miss grig wanted her. millicent, who had had charge of the petty cash during the interregnum, was absent for forty minutes. when she returned, flushed but smiling, to her expectant colleagues, she informed lilian that miss grig desired to see her at twelve o'clock.

"i notice there's an account here under the name of lord mackworth," miss grig began, having allowed lilian to stand for a few seconds before looking up from the ledger and other books in which she was apparently absorbed. she spoke with the utmost gentleness, and fixed her oppressive deep eyes on lilian's.

"yes, miss grig?"

"it hasn't been paid."

"oh!" lilian against an intense volition began to blush.

"didn't you know?"

"i didn't," said lilian.

"but you've been having something to do with the books during my absence."

"i did a little at first," lilian admitted. "then mr. grig saw to them."

"miss merrislate tells me that you had quite a lot to do with them, and i see your handwriting in a number of places here."

"i've had nothing to do with them for about three weeks--i should think at least three weeks, and--and of course i expected the bill would be paid by this time."

"but you never asked?"

"no. it never occurred to me."

this statement was inaccurate. lilian had often wondered whether lord mackworth had paid his bill, but, from some obscurely caused self-consciousness, she had not dared to make any inquiry. she felt herself to be somehow "mixed up" with lord mackworth, and had absurdly feared that if she mentioned the name there might appear on the face or in the voice of the detestable milly some sinister innuendo.

"miss merrislate tells me that she didn't trouble about the account as she supposed it was your affair."

"my affair!" exclaimed lilian impulsively. "it's no more my affair than anybody else's." she surmised in the situation some ingenious malevolence of the flat-breasted mischief-maker.

"but you did the work?"

"yes. it came in while i was on duty that night, and i did it at once. there was no one else to do it."

"who brought it in?"

"lord mackworth."

"did you know him?"

"certainly not. i didn't know him from adam."

"never mind adam, miss share," observed miss grig genially. "has lord mackworth been in since?"

"if he has i've not seen him," lilian answered defiantly.

miss grig's geniality exasperated her because it did not deceive her.

"i'm only asking for information," miss grig said with a placatory smile. "i see the copies were delivered at six-thirty in the morning. who delivered the job?"

"i did."

"where?"

"at his address. i dropped it into the letter-box on my way home after my night's work. i stayed here because somebody had to stay, and i did the best i could."

"i'm quite sure of that," miss grig agreed. "and, of course, you've been paid for all overtime--and there's been quite a good deal. we all do the best we can. at least, i hope so.... and you've never seen lord mackworth since?"

"no."

"and you simply dropped the envelope into the letter-box?"

"yes."

"didn't see lord mackworth that morning?"

"certainly not."

by this time lilian was convinced that miss grig's intention was to provoke her to open resentment. she guessed also that milly must have deliberately kept silence to her, lilian, about the mackworth account in the hope of trouble on miss grig's return, and that milly had done everything she could that morning to ensure trouble. the pot had been simmering in secret for weeks; now it was boiling over. she felt helpless and furious.

"you know," miss grig proceeded, "there's a rule in this office that night-work must only be delivered by hand by the day-staff the next day. if it's wanted urgently before the day-staff arrives the customer must fetch it."

"excuse me, miss grig, i never heard of that rule."

miss grig smiled again: "well, at any rate, it was your business to have heard of it, my dear. everybody else knows about it."

"i told mr. grig i was going to deliver it myself, and he didn't say anything."

"please don't attempt to lay the blame on my brother. he is far too good-natured." miss grig's gaze burned into lilian's face as, with an enigmatic intonation, she uttered these words. "you did wrong. and i suppose you've never heard either of the rule that new customers must always pay on or before delivery?"

"yes, i have. but i couldn't ask for the money at half-past six in the morning, could i? and i couldn't tell him how much it would be before i'd typed it."

"yes, you could, my dear, and you ought to have done. you could have estimated it and left a margin for errors. that was the proper course. and if you know anything about lord mackworth you must know that his debts are notorious. i believe he's one of the fastest young men about town, and it's more than possible that that account's a bad debt."

"but can't we send in the account again?" lilian weakly suggested; she was overthrown by the charge of fast-living against lord mackworth, yet she had always in her heart assumed that he was a fast liver.

"i've just telephoned to 6a st. james's street, and i needn't say that lord mackworth is no longer there, and they don't know where he is. you see what comes of disobeying rules."

lilian lifted her head: "well, miss grig, the bill isn't so very big, and if you'll please deduct it from my wages on saturday i hope that will be the end of that."

it was plain that the bewildered creature had but an excessively imperfect notion of how to be an employee. she had taken to the vocation too late in life.

miss grig put her hand to the support of her forehead, and paused.

"i can tolerate many things," said she, with great benignity, "but not insolence."

"i didn't mean to be insolent."

"you did. and i think you had better accept a week's notice from saturday. no. on second thoughts, i'll pay your wages up to saturday week now and you can go at once." she smiled kindly. "that will give you time to turn round."

"oh! very well, if it's like that!"

miss grig unlocked a drawer; and while she was counting the money lilian thought despairingly that if mr. grig, or even if the nice gertie, had been in the office, the disaster could not have occurred.

miss grig shook hands with her and wished her well.

"where are you going to? it's not one o'clock yet," asked millicent in the small room as lilian silently unhooked her hat and jacket from the clothes-cupboard.

"out."

"what for?"

"for miss g., if you want to know."

and she left. except her clothes, not a thing in the office belonged to her. she had no lien, no attachment. the departure was as simple and complete as leaving a tube train. no word! no good-bye! merely a disappearance.