"You know I'm no good, Polly. Where's Miss Browne?" asked the shorthand clerk, pushing a chair towards Katharine, and taking one herself.
"She's out; I think you might try," said the girl who had spoken to her, in a peevish tone. "I have got to finish this paper to-night; and I'm fagged now."
"Can I help?" asked Katharine. The other two looked at her, and seemed surprised.
"This is some one new," explained her first friend. "Let me introduce you: Miss Polly Newland, Miss— Why, I don't even know your name, do I?"
"Austen," said Katharine. "Won't you tell me yours?"
The girl said her name was Hyam,—Phyllis Hyam; and they returned to the subject of the arithmetic.
"Let's look at it, Polly," said Phyllis Hyam, and Miss Newland passed the paper across the table. The two girls bent over it, and Phyllis shook her head.
"I never understood stocks,—too badly taught!" she said, and tilted her chair and began to whistle.
"Shall I try?" said Katharine, taking out a pencil. She worked out the sum to the satisfaction of Polly Newland, who then unbent a little, and explained that she was going up for the Civil Service examination in March.
"I say, you're clever, aren't you? Do you teach?" asked Phyllis Hyam, bringing the front legs of her chair down again with a bang.