John Dene Of Toronto Part 56

"They're so dreadful, mother. They're all built up in front as if they were made to kick with, and when I marry him, if there's any kicking to be done, I'm going to do it."

"Of course you realise, dear, that he's much older than you," said Mrs.

West hesitatingly.

"He's a perfect baby-in-arms compared with me," she smiled at her mother, a quaint confident little smile.

"But you're sure that--that----" Mrs. West hesitated.

Dorothy nodded her head violently.

"When----" began Mrs. West.

"It--it was when he disappeared," she said with averted face. "I--I seemed to miss him so much. Oh! but mother," she cried, clasping her mother's knee, "he's so funny, and really he wants someone to look after him. You see," she continued slowly, gazing away from her mother, "it's always difficult to---- What made you love--care for father?" she corrected.

"He was your father, dear."

"Yes; but he wasn't before you married him."

"Dear, you----" began Mrs. West, a flush of embarra.s.sment mounting to her cheeks.

"Own up, mother, that you don't know. You can't say it was the shape of his nose, or the way he ate, or his chest measurement."

"Dorothy! why will you never be serious?" protested Mrs. West.

"I can't, mother," cried Dorothy, jumping up and walking over to the window. "No girl ever really knows why she wants to marry a man," she remarked, gazing out of the window. "It's just a feeling. I've got a feeling that I want to take care of John Dene, and--and--oh, mother!

see to his boots," she finished with a laugh.

"I like Mr. Dene, Dorothy," said Mrs. West with a decisiveness that was with her uncommon.

"I know you do," said Dorothy mischievously. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Dorothy dear, you mustn't," began Mrs. West.

"And," continued Dorothy relentlessly, "I won't have any poaching. I don't mind his being nice to you," she continued, leaving the window and planting herself in front of her mother, "because you really are rather nice." She tilted her head on one side, a picture of impudence.

"Now, Mrs. West," she said, "the sooner we understand each other the better."

Again she was back on the stool at her mother's feet. For some minutes there was silence.

"Mother!" She looked up with grave and serious eyes.

"Yes, dear."

"I always prayed for--for him to come back. I--I---- Oh bother!" as the bell rang.

"I wonder who that is. We won't answer it."

"But we must, dear," expostulated Mrs. West. "It might be a friend."

"Oh, well," cried Dorothy, getting up and going out into the tiny hall.

A moment later she re-entered, followed by Marjorie Rogers. "It's Marjorie, mother."

Mrs. West smiled up at her as the girl bent to kiss her.

"I've come to know," began Marjorie, then she hesitated.

"To know what?" asked Dorothy.

"If it's all right."

"If what's all right?"

"J. D."

"What do you mean, Rojjie?" cried Dorothy, blus.h.i.+ng.

"Did he propose? You know I ran in this afternoon and gave him a hint."

"You what?" cried Dorothy aghast.

"Oh! I just gave him a sort of hint that he was----"

"You wretched little creature!" cried Dorothy, seizing Marjorie and shaking her vigorously. There was a look in her eyes that half frightened the girl.

"Help! Oh, Mrs. West!" cried Marjorie, "she's killing me."

"What did you say to him?" demanded Dorothy fiercely.

"I just gave him a hint," repeated Marjorie airily. "I knew he was in love with you."

"What did you say to him?" Again Dorothy shook her.

"Oh, Wessie, if you do that you'll shake all my hair off, not to speak of my teeth. All I said was that you had wasted away when he was lost, and mind, you've got to ask me down to your place, wherever it is, because it's all through me. Oughtn't she, Mrs. West?" she appealed.

Mrs. West smiled a little uncertainly.

"Marjorie, you're a pig," cried Dorothy, "and I don't believe you did go and see him."

"Oh! didn't I, then why do you suppose I've got my new stockings on?"

she cried, lifting her skirts.

"Children, children," smiled Mrs. West.

"My chief says he'll be made a baronet, so that'll be all right for the kids," said Marjorie.

"Rojjie!" cried Dorothy in confusion, and a moment later she had rushed from the room.

When Dorothy returned to the little drawing-room a quarter of an hour later, she found that Marjorie had accepted Mrs. West's invitation to stay to dinner.