Peter made no answer for so long that she turned, wondering and a little resentful. "I beg your pardon," said Peter. "I believe I forgot to answer. But that was n’t from lack of interest. You took my breath away. When I got it back I fell to thinking that I might have expected it of you." "You might? Why?" "I ’m not good at telling my thoughts. But I knew you had a mind of your own from the day you first gave Nancy Bell of Gay Street the preference over the little Hille girl of Worthington Square." "Gay Street was sixteen times more interesting than Worthington Square, always," declared Shirley, frankly. "How do you like the pothooks?" "I ’m going to like them, whether they ’re likable or not. Just now I ’m in a sort of delirium ever them. Little black quirls and dots and dashes walk through my dreams. I ’ve just one week of it now, and I ’m fascinated. The only trouble is, I want to get hold of everything at once." "Hold steady and make sure as you go. Slow accuracy at first is much better than a fast jumble that you can’t read yourself. If you like it, and are getting hold of it already, that shows you are going to win out. It’s easy to tell, from the start, who ’ll make a stenographer in the end and who won’t." "That’s what Murray says, and it encourages me. You ’ve studied it yourself, then?" "Taught myself in odd hours; thought it might be useful some time, and it has been, many times. I can show you a lot of technical short cuts that will be of use to you, when you ’re familiar with the regular method.’ "Oh, thank you--I’ll be grateful. Come Polly--you ’ve cooled off--try a smooth little canter for a while." At Grandfather Bell’s Peter took Shirley down and sent her to roam about the great orchard, while he hunted up the old gentleman and had a talk with him. This consumed nearly an hour, and when they were off upon the road once more, Shirley discovered that the care-free look had vanished from her companion’s face, and that his mouth had taken again the grave expression it had acquired after she went away to school. She let him ride to the edge of the woods, four miles toward home, in the abstracted silence which had fallen upon him; but as they came under the first cool shadows, she brought Pretty Polly down to a walk, and began to talk lightly about Murray and Jane, and the successful way in which Jane had taken up the cares of managing the big house and its affairs. Peter obediently followed her lead, but after a short time she discovered that he gave her his attention only by an effort.