iled. He nodded, as if she had done a most ordinary thing.

Perching herself upon the corner of John Dene's table, Marjorie chatted
brightly, having apparently quite overcome her fears.

"You know, Mr. Dene," she said, "we're all dreadfully intrigued about
you."

John Dene looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"All the other girls are terribly afraid of you," she continued. "I'm
not."

"Of me?" He looked at her in surprise, as if he regarded himself as
the last person in the world to inspire fear.

"They say you glare at them." She smiled a wicked little smile that
she called "the rouser." As John Dene did not reply Marjorie
continued: "They call you 'the bear.'"

"Rojjie!" gasped Dorothy in horror.

"The bear?" repeated John Dene. "Why?"

"Oh, but I am going to tell them you're not," said Marjorie, nibbling
at a biscuit and looking across at John Dene appraisingly. "I think
you're really rather nice."

John Dene glanced across at Dorothy, as if unable quite to classify the
girl before him.

"Of course they don't know that you can smile like that," added
Marjorie.

John Dene was about to make some remark when there came another knock.

"Come," he cried, and a moment later the door opened and Sir Lyster
entered, followed by a tall, sedate-looking man with a bulging forehead
and ragged moustache.

For a moment the two regarded the scene, Sir Lyster having recourse to
his monocle.

Marjorie slipped down from the table, all her self-possession deserting
her at the sight of Sir Lyster's disapproving gaze. Dorothy bent over
her notes, conscious of her burning cheeks, whilst John Dene rose with
entire unconcern.

"I'm afraid we've interrupted you, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster.

"It's the one thing they do well in this shack," was John Dene's
uncompromising retort.

Sir Lyster gazed a little anxiously at his companion.

Taking advantage of the diversion, Marjorie slipped out and Dorothy,
deciding that she would not be wanted for at least a few minutes,
followed her.

"I want to introduce you to Sir Harold Winn," said Sir Lyster.

"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene, shaking Sir Harold vigorously by
the hand. "Take a seat."

John Dene and the Chief Naval Constructor were soon deep in the
intricacies of submarine-construction. When at length Sir Harold rose
to go, there was something like cordiality in John Dene's voice, as he
bade him good-bye. Sir Harold had been able to meet him on