"I thought them very nice," said I demurely, "especially that tall one with all the gold braid and the fascinating eyes." "Fascinating eyes! Ye Gods! Never again, young woman!" and he hustled me out of the ship's boat, across the sand and into the house, lest, as he said, "The eyes-fellow should be standing with field glasses on the deck waiting to wave to you again!" When we were in our rooms again, and I had called him to hook me up--we were dressing for dinner--he came in and, fumbling with those clever surgeon's fingers at the hooks of my frock, swept me and the frock suddenly and breathlessly into his arms. "Don't keep me waiting too long, Mavis," he said, very low. I put my arms around his neck and said something in his ear. And after a moment he kissed me, very gently, and let me go. It was ten minutes before I realized that he had gone without completing his task of lady's maid. That night a full moon rose, golden and glamorous, over the bay. Bill and I walked out on the sands, quite late. I had on a wooly, white coat over my thin dress, and had changed to more sensible shoes. After all, I thought, it was worth a dozen Cubas, the keen, salt air, and the dear home country, just stirring under the breath of Spring. "Happy?" asked Bill, as we sat down on some driftwood logs and watched the ever-widening golden wake of the moon-boat. I leaned my head against his shoulder and nodded. "You've never looked so beautiful," he said, "as tonight." I drew his tall head down to mine, "Do you think so?" I whispered, and then, very softly, "I love you, my husband--" Together, in the full glory of the moonlight, we walked in silence back to the house. The lights gleamed above in my rose and green bedroom, and the door was open between-- CHAPTER XXIII GREEN HILL June. Has it seemed long to you, little Diary? Yet it is just a year since my first entry was made. I'm writing now in my room with the windows wide. Bill has just called up to me that my pink rose-bush is in flower. I must go down and see. I can hear Mother on the lawn talking to Mrs. Goodrich and Father and Peter. Or is it Wiggles? She employs almost the same tone toward both of them. And Sarah, a good ten years younger than last year, is out where the new cottage is soon to be. She has the builder with her, and I know that they are disagreeing. It will be a boon to Sarah to have the Simpson tribe--as much of it as are carpenters--working on her house for her. A pretty revenge! "A new Doctor has come to Green Hill!" Just a year ago--Diary--and since then so much has happened. So much sorrow and happiness, loss and gain. It is hard to believe that it is I who write, Mavis of Green Hill.