The next morning, when Mavis wanted to pay Mrs Medlicott, the station-master’s wife would not hear of it.  She declared that she was amply repaid by Mavis’ accompanying her husband’s songs, which was enough to make him happy for many weeks to come.  Mrs Medlicott also observed that her husband would like to take singing lessons from Mavis, if the latter cared to teach him.

Mavis walked the good mile necessary to take her to the Melkbridge boot manufactory with a light heart.  She reached it at nine, to find a square, unlovely building, enclosed by a high stone wall of the usual Wiltshire type, broken slabs of oolitic formation loosely thrown together.  She explained her errand to the first person she met inside the gate, and was told to await the arrival of Mr Gaby, the manager, who was due in half an hour, the time, she afterwards learned, at which the lady clerks were expected.  When Mr Gaby came, she found him to be a nervous, sandy-haired man, who blushed like any school-girl when he addressed Mavis.  A few minutes later, two colleagues arrived, to whom she was formally introduced.  The elder of these was Miss Toombs, a snub-nosed, short, flat-chested, unhealthy-looking woman, who was well into the thirties.  She took Mavis’ proffered hand limply, to drop it quickly and set about commencing her work.  Her conduct was in some contrast to the other girl’s, who was introduced to Mavis as Miss Hunter.  She was tallish, dark, good-looking, with a self-possessed manner.  The first two things Mavis noticed about her were that she was neatly and becomingly dressed, also that her eyebrows met above her nose.  She looked at Mavis critically for a few moments, and gave the latter the impression that she had taken a dislike to her.  Then Miss Hunter advanced to Mavis with outstretched hand to say: 

“I hope we shall all be great friends and work together comfortably.”

“Thank you,” replied Mavis, at which Miss Hunter proceeded to instruct her in her duties.  These were of the kind usually allotted to clerical beginners, and consisted of the registering, indexing, and sorting of all letters received in the course of the day.

Mavis worked with a will; her bold, unaffected handwriting emphasised the niggling scrawliness of Miss Hunter’s previous entries in the book.

“Don’t work so fast,” said Miss Hunter presently, at which Mavis looked up in surprise.

“If you do, you won’t have anything to go on with,” continued Miss Hunter.

About eleven, Mavis learned from Mr Gaby that Mr. Devitt would like to see her.  The manager conducted Mavis to the board room, where she found Mr Devitt standing before the fire.  Directly he saw her, he came forward with outstretched hand.

“Good morning, Miss Keeves.  Why—­” He paused, to look at her with some concern.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“You’re different.  If I may say so, you look so much more grown up.”