With flaming cheeks and reluctant steps Dorothy left the room. It seemed to Marjorie a long time before she returned, followed by John Dene, who, when he had greeted Mrs. West, turned to Marjorie and shook hands.
"His boots, Dorothy," whispered Marjorie a minute later.
Dorothy looked down at John Dene's feet. The ugly American "footwear" had been replaced by a pair of well-fitting brown boots.
"Please, Mr. Dene, may I be a bridesmaid?"
"Marjorie!" cried Dorothy.
"I may, mayn't I?" persisted Marjorie. "I'm sure Dorothy won't ask me unless you insist."
"Sure," replied John Dene genially. He was always a different man when with Mrs. West and Dorothy.
"You hear, Dorothy. If you don't make me chief bridesmaid I shall—I shall create a disturbance and say it's bigamy or something, and that Mr. Dene has already got two wives in Toronto, not to speak of Salt Lake City. And now I must be running away. Oh! Mrs. West, you said you would give me that pattern," she said suddenly.
"That pattern, dear," began Mrs. West, whilst Dorothy felt her cheeks burn.
"Yes, don't you remember?"