en, seeing
the point of her remark, he smiled right into her eyes, and again
Dorothy blushed and dropped her eyes.

"You see," he said, turning to Mrs. West, "we're a new country and it
doesn't matter a bean to us how a thing was done yesterday, if some one
comes along and tells us how we can do it better to-morrow, and we
don't mind its getting known. That's what she meant," he added,
nodding in Dorothy's direction.

"You must all feel delightfully free," murmured Mrs. West tactfully.

"Free," echoed John Dene in a tone of voice that seemed to suggest that
in no place of the world was freedom so well understood as in the
Dominion. "In Can'da we're just about as free as drinks at an
election."

Dorothy giggled; but John Dene seemed to see nothing strange in the
simile.

"You see, mother, Mr. Dene thinks we're all hopelessly old-fashioned,"
said Dorothy with a mischievous side-glance at John Dene; then, as he
made no response, she added, "Mr. Dene can do three or four different
things at the same time and--and----"

She broke off and began to poke holes in the gravel with the point of
her sunshade.

"And what?" he demanded peremptorily.

"Well, we're not all so clever," she concluded, angry to feel herself
flushing again. "Oh----"

Suddenly Dorothy started forward. A little boy who had been playing
about in front of them for some time past, had tripped and fallen on
his face. In an instant she was down on her knees striving to soothe
the child's frightened cries, and using her dainty lace-edged
handkerchief to staunch the blood that oozed from a cut on his cheek.

John Dene, who had risen also, stood watching her, his usual expression
changed to one of deep concern. He looked from the child to Dorothy,
obviously struck by the change in her. There was knowledge and
understanding of children in the way in which she handled the
situation, he decided. He also noticed that she seemed quite oblivious
of the fact that she was kneeling on the rough gravel to the detriment
of her pretty frock.

When eventually the mother of the child had led it away pacified by the
attentions of Dorothy and the largesse of John Dene, he turned to the
girl.

"You like them?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the retreating
infant.

"I love them," she said softly, with a dreamy look. Then catching John
Dene's eye she blushed, and John Dene smiled.

For the next half-hour Mrs. West and John Dene talked, Dorothy
rema