s, too, though she keeps it pretty
well hidden. If they weren't, Sugar Plum would soon let us know it,
believe me." He grinned. "And now let's all go a-courtin'. I'll get my
guitar and call Herman."

He went to the door and whistled, and instantly a large reddish creature
came lolloping in. It saw the guitar and blinked eagerly.

Betty linked her arm in the captain's. "Come along, Charlie."

Charles fumbled around. He was scared.

Then Betty looked over her shoulder and smiled. It was a completely new
smile. He had never seen it before. It made him tremble with
apprehension.

"You know," she said softly, "I think it'll sort of be fun being
uninhibited."

Charles knocked over a glass, and his chair, and he paused only to drink
some more water.

"So," he shouted, "do I!"

"I suspected you might," said the captain.

* * * * *

Together they went out on the porch and sat down in a swing; and, for a
few moments, in silence, they watched Sugar Plum's two moons sailing
through the strange, perfumed sky. The larger was celadon green; the
smaller, off-white, was glowing, gleaming.

Finally, "Cousin Aurelia?" called Betty.

"Betty, are you out in the dark with that man?"

"Charles and I both are. But he isn't a pirate any more and he's really
quite nice. Besides, he's going to sing to you."

"You tell him to go away--far away. I've barricaded the window and I
have my sharp scissors. I warn you, if he makes one false move--"

"This is where I came in," remarked Charles.

The captain settled back, tuned his guitar, and started to sing in a
warm bass-baritone, with Herman whistling a tenor obbligato through his
nose. Betty and Charles thought the effect was charming, even if Herman
did tend to go a bit flat on the high notes.

[Illustration]

First, the captain sang _Down by the Old Mill Stream_ and _Sweet
Genevieve_. Then he tried a number of sentimental arias from the more
respectable operas, and _The Lost Chord_, and several other old
favorites.

Occasionally, Cousin Aurelia sniffed loudly, but she said nothing until
his serenade came to an end.

"Betty!" she called. "Can you hear me?"

"Do I have to?"

"Tell that person out there that it has done him no good to make those
ungodly noises. My fingers have been in my ears all the time."

"You must've been really a sight," giggled Betty.

"Betty! You--you sound different, somehow."

"Oh, I am! So is Charles. We're both