“To be frank, sir, I must own that I am not _thoroughly_ conversant with short-hand, but I should immediately go to work to perfect my knowledge, and in the meantime I should endeavor to be of valuable assistance to you.” By this time, the senior member of the firm looked so helplessly confused that Bert began to laugh, breaking down utterly in her commercial tone of voice. Then she added in a rush of words, as she made a dash at her father and clasped her hands behind his neck: “Oh, _do_ let me, Papa!—I’d be _very_ confidential, and I’m just wild to earn some money!” At this last remark, the astounded man probably would have gasped, had not his daughter prevented such an expression by a kiss. “You poor dazed man!” she laughed. “Now please sit down, and it will take me just two minutes to explain my strange conduct; you will accept me as your helper in one second more; and then I shall commit my first act of indiscretion as your clerk, by walking home arm-in-arm with my employer.” By this time Mr. Mitchell had risen equal to the joke, as he still considered the entire comedy, and demanded references as to her epistolary ability. Bert at once deafened him with an avalanche of names; but she immediately grew serious again, and began to explain frankly her new thoughts and desires. Of course she was met by the usual discouragements with which the masculine mind teems, but she silenced them all by an earnest request for the privilege of a trial, like any other applicant for a clerkship. At last, after much talking and earnest arguments, it was finally settled as they walked home under one umbrella, with a strange new sense of comradeship, that Bert should present herself at her father’s office next morning in time for the opening of the mail. CHAPTER IV. “‘So let the wide world wag as it will, I’ll be gay and happy still, Gay and happy, Gay and hap——’” “No doubt of it, Nan!” called Bert from the foot of the Ferrises’ stairs, early next morning. Nan suddenly ceased expressing her intentions in song, and appeared leaning over the balustrade, with a blue veil tied over her head, waving a dust-cloth. When she saw that it was Bert, who had interrupted her strain of melody, she proceeded to finish the verse, ignoring the break, and singing: “‘——py, I’ll be gay and happy still!’” Then she cried: “Why, Bert! what brought you over at such an unearthly hour in the morning?” But, without waiting for an explanation of so startling an event, she went on, “Oh, come up-stairs—I’ve changed my room all about, and it is very much prettier.” Bert looked fresh and alert as she took out her watch and said laughing: “I can’t, thank you; haven’t time; besides, I’m afraid my enthusiasm wouldn’t come up to your expectations, as I think I’ve missed one or two of your Friday revolutions, and probably all your things are back again where I last saw them.”