Miss Cresswell," he said, "that I
have--ah--an unpleasant task."

"An unpleasant task, Mr. White?" she said, with a sinking feeling inside
her.

He nodded.

"I have to tell you that Punsonby's no longer require your services."

She rose to her feet, looking down at him open-mouthed with wonder and
consternation.

"Not require my services?" she said slowly. "Do you mean that I am
discharged?"

He nodded again.

"In lieu of a month's notice I will give you a cheque for a month's
salary, plus the unexpired portion of this week's salary."

"But why am I being discharged? Why? Why?"

Mr. White, who had opened his eyes for a moment to watch the effect of
his lightning stroke, closed them again.

"It is not the practice of Punsonby's to give any reason for dispensing
with the services of its employees," he said oracularly, "it is
sufficient that I should tell you that hitherto you have given every
satisfaction, but for reasons which I am not prepared to discuss we must
dispense with your services."

Her head was in a whirl. She could not grasp what had happened. For five
years she had worked in the happiest circumstances in this great store,
where everybody had been kind to her and where her tasks had been
congenial. She had never thought of going elsewhere. She regarded
herself, as did all the better-class employees, as a fixture.

"Do I understand," she asked, "that I am to leave--at once?"

Mr. White nodded. He pushed the cheque across the table and she took it
up and folded it mechanically.

"And you are not going to tell me why?"

Mr. White shook his head.

"Punsonby's do nothing without a good reason," he said solemnly, feeling
that whatever happened he must make a good case for Punsonby's, and that
whoever was to blame for this unhappy incident it was not an august firm
which paid its fourteen per cent. with monotonous regularity. "We
lack--ah--definite knowledge to proceed any further in this matter
than--in fact, than we have proceeded. Definite knowledge" (the girl was
all the more bewildered by his cumbersome diplomacy) "definite knowledge
was promised but has not--in fact, has not come to hand. It is all very
unpleasant--very unpleasant," and he shook his head.

She bowed and turning, walked quickly from the room, passed to the lobby
where her coat was hung, put on her hat and left Punsonby's for ever.

It was when she had reached the street that, with a shock, she
remembered Beale's words