John Dene made a noise in his throat that, from her knowledge of him, Dorothy recognised as a sign that someone was on the eve of being gingered-up. "I'll get that automobile," he announced; and Dorothy knew that there was trouble impending for Mr. Blair. "And we'll have a picnic-hamper, shall we?" she cried excitedly. "Sure," replied John Dene, "I'll order one." "Oh, won't that be lovely, mother!" she cried, clapping her hands. Mrs. West smiled her pleasure. "Where are you taking us to dinner?" enquired Dorothy of John Dene. "The Ritzton," he replied. "Oh, but we're not dressed for that!" "It's war time and I never dress," he announced, as if that settled the matter. "But--" began Mrs. West hesitatingly. "Perhaps you'd rather not come?" he began tentatively, his disappointment too obvious to disguise. "Oh, but we want to come!" said Mrs. West, "only we're not in quite the right clothes for the Ritzton, are we?" "Don't you worry," he reassured her; then a moment later added, "that's what I'm up against in this country. Everybody's putting on the clothes they think other people expect them to wear. If people don't like my clothes, they can look where I'm not sitting. We're not going to win this war by wearing clothes," he announced. Then Dorothy started to gurgle. The picture of endeavouring to win the war without clothes struck her as comical. "Dorothy!" admonished Mrs. West. "I--I was just thinking, mother." "Thinking of what?" asked John Dene. "I was just wondering how Sir Lyster would look trying to win the war without clothes," and she trailed off into a splutter of laughter. "Dorothy!" Mrs. West turned to John Dene with a comical look of concern. "I'm afraid my daughter is in one of her wilful moods to-day, Mr. Dene," she explained. "She'll do as she is," he announced with decision And again Dorothy felt her cheeks burn. "I like Mr. Dene," announced Mrs. West that night as she and Dorothy sat at the open window of the drawing-room before going to bed. "So you approve of your future son-in-law, mother mine, I'm so glad," said Dorothy. "You mustn't say such things, my dear," expostulated Mrs. West. "I'm afraid I shall have to do the proposing though," Dorothy added. "It was very strange, meeting Mr. Dene to-day," remarked Mrs. West half to herself. "Very," remarked Dorothy, and she hastened to talk of something else. That night John Dene dreamed he was a little boy again, and had fallen down and hurt himself, and a beautiful lady had knelt beside him and kissed him. He awakened with a start just as the lady had turned into Dorothy, with her note-book, asking if there were any more letters. CHAPTER XI THE STRANGENESS OF JOHN DENE "Here, I'm being trailed."