"Yes, Lucette, you may go now—and do your little errand—that is if it is not too late. And by the way, Lucette, Miss Remsen asked me to say to you that she will not need your services after to-day."
"Do you mean that I am discharged?"
"Not exactly that. I said you would not be needed. You see Miss Remsen thinks that you come into and go out of rooms with too little noise. She is very nervous, and it startles her to find you in her presence, without having heard you enter."
"You are a devil!" replied Lucette in a passion, as she darted through the door, which Mr. Mitchel had unlocked, and ran down-stairs and out of the house.
"I was right," thought Mr. Mitchel, as he sat down once more.
Lucette hurried across to Broadway and went into the district telegraph office at the corner. Hastily scribbling a few lines on a blank, she asked for a boy, and gave him a coin with the instruction to "hurry." She then went down to Madison Square and waited there—I was about to write, patiently—but really the word would not apply. She sat on a bench. Jumped up in less than five minutes, walked about for awhile, and then sat down again, repeating this over and over, till it was plain that she was in a bad humor,—a very bad humor.
At last she saw a man approaching her, and hurried to meet him. It was Mr. Barnes. He, too, looked excited.
"Well, what is it? Why are you here?" he asked.
"I am discharged!"