She went to breakfast with Sidney Graham, a wonderful breakfast in a wonderful place with fountains and palms and quiet, perfect service. Mr. Barnard had excused himself and hurried away to his home, promising to meet Shirley at the office at half-past nine. And so these two sat at a little round table by themselves and had sweet converse over their coffee. Shirley utterly forgot for the time that she was only a poor little stenographer working for her bread and living in a barn. Sidney Graham's eyes were upon her, in deep and unveiled admiration, his spirit speaking to hers through the quiet little commonplaces to which he must confine himself in this public place. It was not till the meal was over and he was settling his bill that Shirley suddenly came to herself and the color flooded her sweet face. What was she better than any other poor fool of a girl who let a rich man amuse himself for a few hours in her company and then let him carry her heart away with him to toss with his collection? She drew her dignity about her and tried to be distant as they went out to the street, but he simply did not recognize it at all. He just kept his tender, deferential manner, and smiled down at her with that wonderful, exalted look that made her dignity seem cheap; so there was nothing to do but look up as a flower would to the sun and be true to the best that was in her heart. She was surprised to find his own car at the door when they came out on the street. He must have phoned for it before they left the station. He was so kind and thoughtful. It was so wonderful to her to be cared for in this way. "Just as if I were a rich girl in his own social set," she thought to herself. He gave his chauffeur the orders and sat beside her in the back seat, continuing his role of admirer and protector. "It certainly is great to think you're here beside me," he said in a low tone as they threaded their way in and out of the crowded thoroughfare toward the office. "I didn't have a very pleasant afternoon and evening yesterday, I can tell you! I don't think we'll let you go off on any more such errands. You're too precious to risk in peril like that, you know!" Shirley's cheeks were beautiful to behold as she tried to lift her eyes easily to his glance and take his words as if they had been a mere commonplace. But there was something deep down in the tone of his voice, and something intent and personal in his glance that made her drop her eyes swiftly and covered her with a sweet confusion. They were at the office almost immediately and Graham was helping her out. "Now, when will you be through here?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "What train were you planning to take down to the shore? I suppose you'll want to get back as soon as possible?" "Yes," said Shirley, doubtfully, "I do. But I don't know whether I oughtn't to run out home first and get mother's big old shawl, and two or three other little things we ought to have brought along."