"What pattern?" began Mrs. West, then conscious that Marjorie was making hideous grimaces at her, she rose and walked towards the door, leaving John Dene and Dorothy alone. "No one would ever think you were married, Mrs. West," said Marjorie severely, as they walked into the dining-room. "Don't you know that young people want to be alone when they're only just engaged." This with such a serious little air of womanly worldliness that Mrs. West's smile almost developed into a laugh. "Don't you think, Mrs. West, that God must be pleased when two nice people come together?" said Marjorie gravely. Mrs. West looked at her with slightly widening eyes, then recovering herself, said, "God is always glad because of happiness, dear." And Marjorie nodded her head as if in entire agreement with the sentiment. An hour later, when Marjorie had gone, Mrs. West entered the drawing-room, having been sent in by Dorothy to entertain John Dene whilst she wrote a letter. After a few commonplaces they sat in silence, John Dene smoking lustily, Mrs. West happy in her thoughts. It was the Good Lord, she decided, who had ordained that Dorothy and John Dene should fall in love with each other, and thus crown with happiness the autumn of her days. "I've been trying to figure out all the afternoon why she said 'shucks,'" John Dene suddenly burst in upon her thoughts in a way that startled her. "Said 'shucks!'" she repeated. Mrs. West had a habit of repeating a phrase when not quite understanding it, or desirous of gaining time before framing her reply. "Sure." "But who said 'shucks'?" she asked, lifting her brows in an endeavour to comprehend, "and--what are 'shucks,' Mr. Dene?" "Shucks," repeated John Dene in his turn, "shucks are--are----" He paused, then as if determining that this was a side issue he added: "When I told her to-day that I'd never had any use for girls, and--and----" He looked at Mrs. West helplessly. She smiled. "She just said 'shucks.'" "I think she must have meant that you were too modest," said Mrs. West softly. "Me modest!" John Dene sat up straight in his surprise. "I think that is what she must have meant." "I take it that down at the Admiralty they don't figure it out that way," he said grimly. "Me modest," he repeated. "What have I got to give any girl," he continued presently, "and a girl like--Dorothy." The name seemed to come with difficulty. "I'm all wrong," he added with conviction. "I can't talk----" "We love you just for yourself, John," said Mrs. West gently. For a moment there was a look of surprise in John Dene's eye, then with great deliberation he rose and, walking over to Mrs. West, bent down and kissed her cheek. "Oh!" John Dene started up and, turning to the door, saw Dorothy standing on the threshold looking from one to the other, her eyes dancing with mischief. Mrs. West had flushed rosily, and with downcast eyes gave the impression of one who had been caught in some illicit act.