desperately, then
race on. Hortense often was in for a quick, furtive session with her
pocket-dictionary after one of T. A.'s periods. But with Mrs.
McChesney, dictation was a joy. She knew what she wanted to say and
she always said it. The words she used were short, clean-cut,
meaningful Anglo-Saxon words. She never used received when she could
use got. Hers was the rapid-fire-gun method, each word sharp, well
timed, efficient.

Imagine, then, Hortense staring wide-eyed and puzzled at a floundering,
hesitating, absent-minded Mrs. McChesney--a Mrs. McChesney strangely
starry as to eyes, strangely dreamy as to mood, decidedly deficient as
to dictation. Imagine a Hortense with pencil poised in air a full five
minutes, waiting until Mrs. McChesney should come to herself with a
start, frown, smile vaguely, pass a hand over her eyes, and say, "Let
me see--where was I?"

"'And we find, on referring to your order, that the goods you
mention----'" Hortense would prompt patiently.

"Oh, yes, of course," with an effort. Hortense was beginning to grow
alarmed.

In T. A. Buck's office, just across the hall, the change was quite as
noticeable, but in another way. His leisurely drawl was gone. His
deliberate manner was replaced by a brisk, quick-thinking,
quick-speaking one. His words were brief and to the point. He seemed
to be riding on the crest of an excitement-wave. And, as he dictated,
he smiled.

Hortense stood it for a week. Then she unburdened herself to Miss
Kelly, the assistant bookkeeper. Miss Kelly evinced no surprise at her
disclosures.

"I was just talking about it to Pop yesterday. She acts worried,
doesn't she? And yet, not exactly worried, either. Do you suppose it
can be that son of hers--what's his name? Jock."

Hortense shook her head.

"No; he's all right. She had a letter from him yesterday. He's got a
grand position in Chicago, and he's going to marry that girl he was so
stuck on here. And it isn't that, either, because Mrs. McChesney likes
her. I can tell by the way she talks about her. I ought to know.
Look how Henry's ma acted toward me when we were first engaged!"

The front office buzzed with it. It crept into the workroom--into the
shipping-room. It penetrated the frowsy head of Jake, the
elevator-man. As the days went on and the tempo of the front office
slackened with that of the two bright little inner offices, only one
member of the whole staff remained unmoved