Diana had been talking with Mrs. Lowell. She kissed her now hurriedly, and stood rigid. The time had come. She would never go to the opera. She would never see him again. Meanwhile, she joined her mother's gracious reception of the parting courtesies, and shook hands with all the guests alike. They went down the guarded stairway. It was midnight, and the cove was very still. Diana could not watch the departure of the small boat. "I'm tired," she said, stifling a yawn. "Good-night, dears." She disappeared quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Wilbur stood by the rail and waved to the departing boat-load. "What a delightful evening it has been," said the lady with a sigh. "But wasn't it strange that Mr. Barrison wasn't hungry after singing? I thought people always were. Didn't you think the sandwiches were as good as usual?" "Better. I was as hungry as a hunter--or a sailor. Great air, this, Laura." CHAPTER XXIII THE MOON-GODDESS In the twin beds of the master's room on the yacht Idlewild two persons lay wide awake at one-thirty o'clock that morning. One of them finally said softly and tentatively: "Charlie, are you awake?" "I am, my dear," came the reply, "and I should like to ask whether it is simply insomnia with you, or whether you are suffering from incipient St. Vitus?" "Why, I thought I had been keeping so still. It was the same way after I heard that man sing the last time. I couldn't sleep for hours. Isn't he all I said? I'll warrant he is keeping you awake, too." "I think he is." "There!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilbur triumphantly. "You do consider him extraordinary, don't you?" "I do. So much so that I have asked him to go out with us to-morrow night--Oh, it's to-night, isn't it? The Captain says we will leave at nine-thirty, and go as far as Portland." "Why, I think that is fine," said Mrs. Wilbur, greatly surprised. "Well," she added, after a pause, "you could scarcely give a greater proof of your liking, for I know how careful you are not to commit yourself to being bored by anybody on the yacht. Why didn't he tell me when he left to-night?" "Because he did not expect to accept. He may do so yet, however. I told him he might decide at the last minute." "Why did he hesitate? Perhaps because you didn't invite Mr. Kelly." "Oh, but I did. I told him they might reign supreme in the music-room and work as much as they pleased." "How delightful! Then why didn't he jump at such a prospect? I suppose because they wouldn't get to New York so quickly." "No, he has considerable latitude concerning the date for arrival in New York. I'll tell you just what he replied when I asked him. He looked me straight in the eye and he said: 'Thank you, Mr. Wilbur, but it wouldn't do me any good to take such a trip. It's best for me to play safe. I've passed the age when it is permissible to cry for the moon.' He said it slowly, with pauses. He was perfectly willing I should know what he meant, and he saw that I did know."