"That's true. But he's not a desirable acquaintance, and I don't mean to introduce him to you. Remember the pothooks--they 'll keep you busy."
He smiled as he said it, but Shirley persisted, more boldly, for she thought she detected the fact that it would be a relief to Peter to tell somebody his troubles, if his conscience would let him.
"I 've seen, ever since I came home, that something was worrying you. It's made me feel badly. Perhaps just telling would make it easier."
"I should imagine it might. I 'll think about it. Meanwhile, thank you for two fine hours. We 're back just in time for your dinner--and my supper. Will you go to the house door, or dismount here at the stable?"
"Here, please. And next Saturday we'll go again, if you really care to."
"I shall think about it through the week. Here you are--you don't half let me help you. Success to the pothooks! Good-bye!"
CHAPTER V
BLACK CARE
On the following Saturday it rained all day, and no horseback-riding or excursions of any sort were possible. Before another half-holiday had come round, an unusual and severe pressure of work had overtaken Peter, which shut him off from any leisure whatever for many successive weeks. Night after night, all through July and August, he came home late in the evening, too weary for anything but supper and bed. During all this time he saw little of the people in Worthington Square.
As for Shirley, although she thought often of Peter, and was sorry that no chance seemed to favour her getting at the secret of his burdens, whatever they might be, her own work absorbed her. She was proving a ready pupil, keen of intellect and quick of eye and hand. As she advanced in the mastery of stenography, she became more and more fascinated by its details, and spent more and more of her spare hours in practice. The typewriting she acquired in an unexpectedly short space of time, but her chief ambition was to achieve the ability to take dictation rapidly and accurately, and to this end she laboured with much zeal.