She laughed lightly. "Now I must eat. John Dene's
like sea air, he's so stimulating;" and she began to eat the dinner
that Mrs. West always prepared with such care.

For some minutes she watched with a smile of approval her daughter's
healthy appetite.

"I think I should like Mr. Dene, Dorothy," she said at length. "I have
always heard that Canadians are very nice to women. You must ask him
to call."

"Oh, you funny little mother!" she laughed. "You forget that we have
come down in the world, and that I'm a typist."

"A secretary, dear," corrected Mrs. West gently.

"Well, secretary, then; but even a secretary doesn't invite her
employer to tea, even when the tea is as mother makes it. It's not
done, so the less that's said of John, I think, the better," she quoted
gaily. "Oh! by the way," she added, "you might get his goat; Sir
Lyster does."

"His goat, dear!" Mrs. West looked up with a puzzled expression.

Dorothy explained the allusion. She went on to tell of some of the
doings of John Dene, his impatience, his indifference to and contempt
for constituted authority. In short she added a few vivid side-lights
to the picture she had already given her mother of how John Dene had
come and carried all before him.

"I think," she said in conclusion, screwing up her pretty features,
"that John Dene is rather a dear." Then after a pause she added, "You
see, he is also a man."

"A man, my dear," questioned Mrs. West, looking at her daughter with a
smile.

"Yes, mother, he's so intensely masculine. I get so fed up with----"

"Dorothy!" expostulated Mrs. West.

"Yes, I know it's trying, mother, but I get so weary of the subaltern
and junior naval officer. Of course they're splendid and brave; but
they don't seem men."

"But think of how they have given their lives," began Mrs. West.

"Yes; but we see those who haven't, mother, and very few of them have
chevrons on their sleeves. Now John Dene is quite different. He
always seems to be a man; yet he never forgets that you are a woman,
although he never appears to be conscious of your being a woman."

Dorothy caught her mother's eye, and laughed.

"Of course it sounds utterly ridiculous I know; but there it is, and
then think of what----" She suddenly broke off.

"Yes, dear," said Mrs. West gently.

"I was nearly letting out official secrets, mother. Of course I
mustn't do that, must I?"

"Of course not, dear," said Mrs. West.

"Yes," co