John Dene turned suddenly and looked at her. Again he smiled.
"Why, I hadn't thought of that," he said.
"Thought of what?" she asked.
"Why, you see enough of me all the week without my butting in on your holidays."
"Oh, Mr. Dene!" cried Dorothy reproachfully, "how can you be so unkind? Now we shall insist upon your taking us to tea, won't we, mother?"
Mrs. West smiled up at John Dene who had risen. "I'm afraid we can't let you off now, Mr. Dene," she said sweetly.
"Well, I take it, I shan't be tugging at the halter," he said, as they walked towards where the pagoda reared its slim, un-English body above the trees.
Having found a table and ordered tea, John Dene looked about him appreciatively.
"We haven't got anything like this in T'ronto," he repeated, as if anxious to give full justice to the old country for at least one unique feature.
"Thank you for that tribute," said Dorothy demurely.