Winifred's eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, her head
high, as the superintendent's voice bade her "Come in."

CHAPTER XIV

FROM SCYLLA TO CHARYBDIS

She went in. Mr. Meggison sat in front of his roll-top desk. No such
world-shaking event as his rising to receive her took place. His
stenographer's chair was vacant. The cherubic aspect had for the
moment dominated Mephistopheles. Mr. Meggison was smiling. But Win did
not know whether to fear the smile or to thank her stars for it.

Little girls--and sometimes big ones--should be seen and not heard, so
Win waited in meek, flushed silence for the great man to speak.

"Shut the door, please, Miss--er--Miss Child," said he. And the
cherubic eyes gazing from under the fierce contradiction of heavy
eyebrows up to the tall girl's face conveyed to her mind that "please"
was a tribute. Also, she suddenly knew that the superintendent had
hesitated over her name on purpose. A man in a high position may wish
to be agreeable to a girl beneath him, at the same time informing her
that she is of no vast importance.

With a certain stiff young dignity Win shut the office door.

"You may as well sit down. I want to talk to you."

She sat down in the chair of Mr. Meggison's absent stenographer. By
this time the pink of her cheeks had deepened to red. She was
wondering more than ever what he was going to do, and what she would
do when he had done it. But as she sat facing him she realized that
she was no longer afraid. She felt a sense of power and resource.

"Are you surprised that I remember your name, Miss Child?" he asked.

"I don't know the custom," she replied primly. Would he expect her to
say "Sir?" Anyhow, she wouldn't! She compromised with a dainty
meekness which might be interpreted as respect for a superior. Mr.
Meggison fixed her with a sharp look which would have detected the
impudence of a lurking laugh.

"That's a funny answer," said he. "You 'don't know the custom!' Well,
my idea of you is, you don't know much about any business customs, on
our side of the water or yours either." As he spoke he watched her
face to catch any guilty flicker of an eyelid. "I want you to tell me
what was your idea in going for a job with us."

"I saw your advertisement for extra hands."

"The woods--I mean the papers--are full of advertisements. What made
you pick out ours?"

"I'd tried to get other things and failed."

"So we were a last resort, eh?"

"I thought fi