'
"I was then myself but a wee small lad,
But I well remember the look that he had;
And I thought that his words came wondrous true,
For whom could I love more dear than you?
"To-day at dawn I was out alone,
I found a wee fairy beside a stone;
And he said, as he looked at me, far above him,
'Ah, Ken, you have only begun to love him!'"
There could be no possible answer to this but a rush from Kirk and an
onslaught of hugs, from which it was long before Ken could disentangle
himself.
"Oh, what have I done!" Ken cried. "Yes, of course I mean it, silly! But
do, do have a care--we're all mixed up with the marmalade and the
oatmeal, as it is!"
Ken had proclaimed the day a half-holiday for himself, but Kirk was to
go with him on the morning trip, and Phil, too, if she wanted to go. She
did want, so Applegate Farm was locked up, and three radiant Sturgises
walked the warm, white ribbon of Winterbottom Road to the _Dutchman_.
Kirk was allowed to steer the boat, under constant orders from Ken, who
compared the wake to an inebriated corkscrew. He also caught a fish over
the stern, while Ken was loading up at Bayside. Then, to crown the day's
delight, under the door at Applegate, when they returned, was thrust a
silver-edged note from the Maestro, inviting them all to supper at his
house, in honor of the occasion.
CHAPTER XII
"ROSES IN THE MOONLIGHT"
The Maestro's house wore always a mantle of gentle aloofness, like
something forgotten among its over-grown garden paths.
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