"Eh?" says I. "You don't mean to say you got stewed? Not on a couple
of glasses!"

"Well, not exactly," says he. "But I can't take wine. I hardly ever
do. It--it goes to my head always. And tonight--well, I couldn't
decline. You saw. Then afterward--oh, I felt so buoyant, so full of
life, that I couldn't go to sleep. I simply had to do something to let
off steam. I wanted to play the cornet. So I came out here, as far
away from anyone as I could get."

"Too thin, Merry," says I. "That might pass with me; but with
strangers you'd get the laugh."

"But it's true," he goes on. "And I didn't dream anyone could hear me
from here."

"Why, you boob," says I, "they could hear you a mile off!"

"Really?" says he. "But you don't suppose Vio--I mean, the Misses
Hibbs could hear, do you?"

"Unless it's their habit to putty up their ears at night," says I.

"But--but what will they think?" he gasps breathless.

"That they're bein' serenaded by some admirin' friend," says I.
"What's your guess?"

"Oh--oh!" says Merry, slumpin' down on a settee. "I--I had not thought