He was very tall, with broad shoulders and a head of curly, dark brown hair. He had dark, soulful eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed. His lips were very red. Juliet remembered after thinking that--and wondering what it would be like to kiss them.

He was in a uniform of some sort. She couldn't place it. Was it Canadian? And he was looking at her. She felt Allan move off toward the refreshments table. Oh please, let him not come back too soon. Let this wonderful creature come over to her. She needed to dance with him. There he was--not two feet away--would he pass her by? No--he was stopping. He was holding out his hand. Would the band never start playing?

They did, and he grinned, his eyes crinkling in that way she already knew and loved. Yes, loved! This, oh, this, was what it was supposed to feel like.

It was a slow, romantic song--just a few minutes ago, had she been ridiculing romance? How could she have done that? Juliet took his hand and danced with him as if she had been dancing with him her entire life, not Allan.

Would he not speak to her? Oh, they did not need to speak. Still--she wanted to hear his voice. But what would she say to him. Juliet racked her brain.

"Do--you--know what this song is called?" she asked--prosaically. She wanted to kick herself. Why? Why couldn't she have said something bewitching?

"It's 'Autumn,'" he said, his eyes crinkling again. He was a lovely voice--low and deep. With a hint of an English accent--and a hint of Canadian.

"Autumn!" Juliet said. "It seems--silly--to sing about autumn in the springtime." She flushed again. Poor Juliet. It was still winter but already it felt like spring to her young heart.

"It's not silly," said he, not noticing anything amiss. Perhaps he felt the same. "Listen to the words." And he sang them softly in her ear:

Autumn

Shall we all meet in the Autumn?

Golden and glowing by Autumn

Shall we still be best of friends?

Best of friends...

All through each languorous season

We ebb and flow

Romance, defying all reason

Will come, then go

Still, perhaps this Autumn

Love won't retreat in the Autumn

All that we have won't be past

...Won't be past

Let breezes blow

And turn cold

As we continue growing old,

This Autumn

Love newly found

May yet last.

"It's beautiful," said Juliet wisely. "And lovely--and true."

"Like you," he said, suddenly earnest. "I feel--as if--I'd known you in a past life, or something."

"You did," she said seriously--but them dimpled. "Don't you remember?"

"Yes--I've got it now," he said. "We were tragic lovers--cruelly separated--torn away from each other--destined to roam another day and age to find each other. We've been searching all of our lives. I do believe my name once, was Romeo. What's yours?"

She smiled. "Juliet."

"No," he laughed. "In this day and age."

"It is Juliet. I'm Juliet Kent," said the maiden of that name, laughing.

His eyes were laughing--and very dark and deep. "That's enough of an omen for me," said he--and he kissed her. "But then--I've always been easily pleased."

* * *

How good it felt to slip away from the stifling hall and walk down to the shore--with him! They walked in the surf--Juliet's silver slippers already spoiled by the sand and water. They walked until the lights of the hall were like firefly lanterns in the distance. He kissed her several more times--until Juliet broke away and said,

"Oh! I don't even know your name. Tell it to me quick so that I can know who it is that I--"

She almost said who it is that I love. But stopped herself.

"My name is Blair King," he said, taking her hand. "I lied. It was never Romeo."

Juliet giggled. "Blair King," she said. "Blair King! I know who you are!"

"Yes, the past life regression has brought it out of you. You remember when we roamed the sand of time together--"

"No! I know who you are. You're Sara Stanley's son. My mother--Emily Starr Kent--and your mother are friends. We met when we were children, I think, once. I don't remember you. I remember two little girls, but not you."

"Charlotte and Rachel, my sisters," said Blair. "And it was your Mother who wrote that charming book, The Moral of the Rose. My sisters read it over and over until their copy fell apart. And how extraordinary this is! To come all this way to find my dear childhood friend." He gave an exaggerated bow and said, "So good to see you again, m'dear. My, how you've grown. Tell me about what you've been up to these past fifteen years?"

Juliet giggled. "What about you? Are you in the army? Mother never said."

"The Air Force--the Royal Air Force, or RAF. British. I'm a British citizen, you know. Was born there. I joined up at my last birthday. I'm only just eighteen. Came over here on my last leave--I sail tomorrow and ship out next week."

Juliet put her hand to her throat. He couldn't mean--that he was--leaving? But he'd just gotten here! And would she see him again? Not for a long, long time--and then it hit her--if at all. He might die overseas. People did, every day. Why would he be any different just because she loved him.

She began to cry, turning from him--and that's when she saw Allan, looking down from the small bluff overhead. His face was red and he was out of breath.

"Juli-et!" he gasped. "I've been--looking all over for you! Phew! Bella Priest said she saw you forced off by a strange man. No offense," he said to Blair, who smiled blandly, and somewhat confusedly. "Bella must've seen wrong."

"No offense taken," said Blair. "And you are?"

"Oh! Blair King this is Allan Miller," said Juliet. To Allan, "Blair is Sara Stanley's son! You remember Mother talking about her? The actress? An old family friend."

She didn't like the pleading note in her voice. But Allan's face had turned so red, and angry.

"Lovely to meet," he said to Blair. "Juliet, let's go back to the dance."

He took Juliet's arm--again, she hated it! She would have struggled free--but something in Blair's face stopped her. He looked as if he had suddenly gone cold--dead inside. Why didn't she shove Allan off and run back to him? Lord knows she wanted to! But she didn't. They left Blair standing their by the bluff, alone, as the waves rolled steadily in.

* * *

Allan did not leave Juliet's side again for the rest of the night. He danced with her, and coddled her, and complimented her on everything from her hair--which had been mussed by the wind--to her shoes--which were sandy from her walk on the beach. Occasionally she caught other girls looking at her enviously. Rhonda Pearl, for example. And Barbara Jessup. Both of them were wild for Allan Miller. When he only had eyes for her, Juliet! And she only had eyes for one man--and he was dancing this one with Bea, across the room, and would not meet her eyes. How funny it all was. Funny--and stupid--and tragic.

The band played, "California, Here I Come!" and then "We'll Meet Again," the last song. Juliet took advantage of the rush of people toward the coatroom and let go of Allan's hand. She must find Blair--before he left--!

In her haste she ran smack into someone. Looking up, she smiled and gasped in relief. It was him!

"Blair," she said, taking his hand.

"Yes?" he said flatly, with some sort of hurt behind his eyes.

"I--wanted--to ask," Juliet faltered. "If--I could--write to you. While you are away."

"What would your boy-friend say about it?" Blair asked sadly.

Juliet didn't care about the throng of people. She stood on her tiptoes--yes, he was that tall!--and kissed him. They broke apart, and he was already rooting in his pocket for a paper and pencil. He wrote his information down, and took her hand, and tucked the paper in it.

"Shall we all meet in the Autumn?" he sang, smiling.

"God, I hope so!" Juliet said fervently. "And if not--if it is not over by then--and you aren't back--I'll think of you. On the first day of Autumn--all day."

As if she would not be thinking of him every day!

"It'll be our special day," he said. "Goodbye."

And just like that he was gone. Juliet stood, and watched him go. She felt someone grab hold of her hand.

"Isn't he wonderful?" Bea said fiercely, her eyes glowing with adoration. "He danced two dances with me, Juliet--that's all, but I remember every look he gave me, every word he said. I love him! How glad I am that you--and Allan--otherwise I would have thought you loved him, too. But I was just being silly. Oh, Juliet, I'm going to write him. I don't know his address--I didn't want to seem too forward--but I'll find it out and write him."

Juliet, the one person in the room who could have helped her in her search, just smiled, and shoved the scrap of paper Blair had given her into the pocket of her overcoat.

"I'm glad for you," she said to Bea, so brightly, that she almost forgot she didn't mean it.

A/N: 'Autumn' is from the musical Titanic. Music & Lyrics by MAURY YESTON.