So the handsome Mr. Saunders played the ukelele!--How wonderfully
that suited his type. And it was just the kind of moonlight night
for music. Missy rejoiced when Mr. Saunders decided to stay, and
Aunt Isabel went in the house for the ukelele. It was heavenly when
Mr. Saunders began to play and sing. The others had seated
themselves in porch chairs, but he chose a place on the top step,
his head thrown back against a pillar, and the moon shining full on
his dark, imperious face. His bold eyes now gazed dreamily into
distance as, in a golden tenor that seemed to melt into the
moonlight itself, he sang:

"They plucked the stars out of the blue, dear, Gave them to you,
dear, For eyes . . . "

The ukelele under his fingers thrummed out a soft, vibrant,
melancholy accompaniment. It was divine! Here surely was a "harper
passing all other!" Mr. Saunders looked something like a knight,
too--all but his costume. He was so tall and dark and handsome; and
his dark eyes were bold, though now so soft from his own music.

The music stopped. Aunt Isabel jumped up from her porch chair, left
the shadows, and seated herself beside him on the moonlit top.

"That looks easy," she said. "Show me how to do it."

She took the ukelele from him. He showed her how to place her
fingers--their fingers got tangled up--they laughed.

Missy started to laugh, too, but stopped right in the middle of it.