"You're sure you'll be all right, in that lonely old house by yourself?" Mother asked Juliet one windy, snow-blown evening, the last night of the old year.

"Yes--and Mother, I won't be by myself. There will be four little imps of boys and girls keeping watch with me as the old year goes out," Juliet smiled. Oh, yes, she smiled--but not with her eyes. Emily knew those kinds of smiles--they were dangerous.

"It's awfully good of you to go up to Cloud of Spruce to baby-sit," said Aunt Ilse, who was sitting at the table, stirring milk into her cup of coffee. How pretty Aunt Ilse looked! No, not pretty--she was so gorgeous and exotic that pretty was an insult to her. She and Mother were dressed to go out, to the New Years' dance in White Sands. Aunt Ilse had arrayed herself in a pink feathered concoction with dangly feather earrings in her ears. She looked like a tropical bird that had swooped down and alighted in this bleak, stark, wintry place by mistake. But somehow, Juliet thought that she would rather look like Mother than Aunt Ilse.

Mother was wearing a dress of amethyst silk that showed off the white skin at her throat and her strong arms and shapely legs. Her Christmas present from Father--a pair of diamond earrings--glittered alluringly on her bewitching, pointed little ears. An amethyst pendant was nestled in the pearly hollow of her throat. She looked so young and un-motherly that Juliet jumped up and gave her an improptu kiss, as if to reclaim her territory.

"Marigold and Sidney Guest have some of the wildest little hellians this side of Halifax," said Uncle Perry, coming into the kitchen, buttoning his cuffs. "They've had the hardest time keeping baby-sitters. I don't envy you your job tonight, Juliet."

Juliet laughed--this time for real. Uncle Perry, who could stand up to the toughest man in Parliament without flinching couldn't be scared of a few harmless children.

"I am sorry you aren't coming to the dance," Aunt Ilse said woefully, as Juliet pulled her long hair into a quick braid and grabbed her scarf from the rack by the door.

"I'm not sorry," said Juliet to herself as she tramped down the road that led into Harmony. The last dance she had been at was the Valentine's dance, nearly two years ago now--with Blair. And Allan. Oh, where was Blair tonight? Was he safe? No--Juliet would not think of him. Where was Allan, then? She had had a letter from him yesterday, postmarked last week--but where was he tonight?

"Thank heavens you're here," said Mrs. Guest, opening the door only seconds after Juliet knocked with the heavy brass knocker. "Budge!" she called down the hallway. "Juliet is here, darling, hurry!"

"Sorry for the rush job," said Mr. Guest, his eyes smiling kindly behind his glasses. "Lorraine and Lesley are playing in the parlor, and Leander is sulking over something in his room. The baby is asleep--she makes the most unearthly racket if she sees us leave, so we'd better get out fast, before she wakes up."

They left in a flurry of color and a whirl of donning scarves and coats.

Juliet made her way into the parlor, where a little boy and girl were coloring with crayons. Lorrie and Les Guest greeted her warmly, and went back to their papers.

"This looks like an advertisement for family-living," Juliet laughed, watching the two golden-haired creatures work so diligently at their drawings.

"Just wait until Leander gets over his fit," said Lorrie ominously, coloring in a large, pink flower.

The baby began to cry, and Juliet went up to get her out of her crib. She was such a sweet, delicate little thing. Such tiny hands. "I love those hands," Juliet cooed, kissing one, and the baby gurgled in delight. Hadn't Juliet had several of these fat, lovable creatures in her dream house? Babies with pointed ears, and eyes that crinkled when they smiled

She was knocked out of her reverie by a terrific crash downstairs.

"Oh!" said Juliet, flying into the pantry, from whence the crash had emanated. A small boy with blond ringlets and round spectacles was poised on the top shelf of the pie-safe. At his feet were the remains of a Wedgwood platter and a splattered cherry pie.

"He's spoiled the pie Mother was saving for tomorrow's supper," said Lorraine, in a death's-head voice.

"You must be Lee," said Juliet darkly. "Come down from that shelf right now. What were you doing up there?"

"Those were the last of the cherries," said Les sadly. "There won't be more till spring."

"I was awful hungry," said the culprit, speaking for the first time. "Mother sent me off without supper. She said you would feed me later, when I decided to be a good boy. Well, I haven't decided to be good! But my stomach was growling so, and I remembered seeing a pie up here...say! You don't think there's another one?" His eyes behind his spectacles looked hopeful, and he reached precariously up.

"Get down--this--instant!" Juliet bellowed. "Or I shall have to punish you."

"Well you have to let me eat," Leander reasoned. "Mother said you would feed us, and put us to bed. She didn't say anything about punishing us. And anyway, I won't let you." He seemed very decided.

"Part of the pie landed right side up on this plate," Les pointed out. "We might as well eat it."

Juliet looked at the stubborn faces and grimly went to get three forks.

* * *

"I ain't going to go to bed tonight," said Lee, stretching his hands complacently over his belly. "That was swell pie, wasn't it? I'm glad we got a little of it, at least."

"Your Mother won't think it's so swell, when she sees what you've done," said Juliet anxiously.

"She'll be mad at you," Lee corrected her. "After all, you are the one in charge. And anyway, I ain't going to bed, so I'll stay up all night and 'splain it to her when she comes home. If you try to make me go to bed, I'll kick and scream."

"He bites," Lorraine warned.

Juliet, who had just spent a terrible half-hour putting the baby to bed did not want to relive that experience soon with a small boy--who bit. And Lee looked like he meant it. It was already past their bed-times but she decided to bend the rules a little.

"Why don't go into the parlor and play?" she said brightly.

* * *

In the past hour, Juliet had decided that there would, in fact, be no babies in her re-constructed dream castle in the sky. Babies grew up--to be horrid little boys.

Lee had already grown tired of making paper-dolls, though Les and Lorrie looked pleased with their handiwork and made more. But Lee--Lee had already beheaded three of Lorraine's dolls and cut the whiskers off of the family cat!

"Give over those shears immediately," Juliet said, comforting the yowling beast. "You are too young--you can't be trusted with them."

"If you say that again, I'll cut your whiskers off," Lee said with a grin.

"She hasn't got whiskers," Les remarked matter-of-factly.

"Her braid then!" Lee said triumphantly.

"You are a very naughty boy," said Juliet, near her wits end. "I was nice enough to come and sit with you tonight, and you threaten me with the shears. Now hand them over."

"You weren't nice to come and sit with us, you just had nothing better to do," Lee argued.

"That's not true," Juliet said, wounded. "I could have gone to the dance."

"Why didn't you?" asked Les.

"What would your dress look like?" asked Lorraine.

"She didn't go because no one wanted to take her," said Lee. "She's ugly--ugly--with a moon-face--and pointed ears!"

It was a silly remark made by a child--but it smarted. Juliet gasped. "You are a naughty, mean boy," she said tearfully.

"Oho! That's the second time you've called me naughty--and I'm not-- but I'll show you!" And Lee swooped toward her with the shears.

No one knew exactly what happened next, but they were able to guess from the evidence that was left behind. Lorraine gasped. Lesley covered his eyes. And Leander dropped the shears and backed away.

Juliet put her hands to her head--which felt strange. She looked down and saw her braid--all of it--on the floor by her feet, tangled up in the shears.

"Oh!" Juliet said, this time in a low, dark voice. A strained silence fell over the room as the little boys and girl looked up at her with wide eyes.

"He's done it now," Lorraine commented.

"Your hair is on the floor," Les whispered.

Juliet glared at them--she dared not look at Leander unless she would tempted to go and throttle him. She snatched up her braid, and fled to the bathroom, locking herself in.

"You're supposed to watch us," Lorraine called.

"I don't care if you burn the house down!" Juliet shrieked, tears running down her cheeks. These horrible--horrible--children!

She cried in the bathroom until her eyes felt rough and red. Her hair--her one glory--gone! She had only had her hair cut once in her who life, when she was a baby. And in one second it had all been snipped away! What an ugly creature she must be now!

"It's a good thing Blair can't see me in this state," she wept. "And Allan--not even Allan will like me anymore like this."

Surprisingly, the tots did not burn the house down in her absence. There were no more crashes--not even a peep from those little demons. Maybe they'd been poisoned by the pie. Juliet hoped so. If she'd known how they would act she would have put it in herself.

The clock struck ten o'clock and Juliet reluctantly stood and started to go out. She had to put the children to bed--even if they were terrible, they deserved to sleep. As she was going she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror--and stopped--and stood, transfixed.

Why--why--she looked beautiful! Leander had cut her hair off above the shoulders--and it curled jauntily around her face, defining her jaw and making her eyes look bigger and more alluring. She looked elfin--mocking--impish.

"I like it," Juliet said increduously. "Why didn't I cut it all off years ago?"

The children, had not been poisoned, just scared into being good by Juliet's stony silence. They'd tucked themselves into bed without a peep. Lorraine and Lesley were already asleep, Les snoring slightly. The baby was as sweet as ever in her crib.

Juliet crept into Leander's room, hardening her heart a little. She liked her new 'do--but he'd had no right to cut off all of her hair. Even if it did look better this way. What was that snuffling sound--why, was Leander crying?

He was. Great fat tears rolled swiftly down Lee's cheeks. "What on earth have you done now?" Juliet asked in horror. She pulled back the covers--and there was Lee, looking like a shorn sheep, his lovely golden curls scattered like confetti on the bedsheets, his eyes red from sobbing. The offending shears were still in his hand. Juliet wrenched them away.

"What have you done?" she cried.

"Nothing--only I'm sorry," Leander said. "About your hair, I mean. I'm not normally sorry--but I am now. And I don't like the feeling. So I thought I'd feel better if I cut my own hair off, to show I was sorry."

"It isn't nice to feel guilty," Juliet said. "And cutting your hair off was a naughty thing to do! But I know what will make you feel better. I forgive you, little Lee. There now, do you still feel like crying?"

"No," said Leander. "And--I'm sorry about the pie, and the paper-dolls, and saying you had a moon-face. You don't--I made that up. And I like your ears. They look like elf ears--fairy ears. Say you forgive me again and make the rest of this feeling go away!"

"I forgive you, again, for all that," Juliet laughed, and the little creature flung himself at her.

"I like you," Lee said. "In fact, I think I'll marry you, when I'm grown up. You'll be awfully old then--but I won't mind. And my hair will have grown back."

Why--he was--a dear! He wasn't a bad little boy. Juliet laughed. Well, maybe he was a little bad, but Lee had a tang that the others were lacking.

"I know something else that will make us both feel better," Juliet whispered. "Let's sneak downstairs and have some cookies before bed!"

Mr. and Mrs. Guest came home shortly after midnight and were electrified to see Lee and Juliet asleep on the sofa in the parlor, the latter clutching her braid in her hand, the former with a handful of shorn golden curls.

"I like Miss Kent," Lee murmured in his sleep. "Can she be our babysitter all the time, Mummy?"

"I'd like that," said Juliet. "And oh--Mrs. Guest--I'm sorry about the pieand Lee's hairhe cut it off himself."

"Oh, no matter," said Mrs. Guest. "I'm sick to death of cherry pies, we've been eating them all winter. Mrs. Vincent Lesley brought this one over yesterday--she never puts enough sugar in hers. I was going to give it to the girl who comes in to clean. And Lee! You naughty thing! I suppose he was really very bad?"

Juliet looked down at the little pleading face next to her.

"He was--a dear," she said.

"What a funny story this has been," Juliet thought, as she and Mr. Guest sped along in his motorcar, back toward New Moon. She must write Allan about it first thing tomorrow. She spent the rest of the ride re-establishing the babies in her dream castle--and adding in a little bespectacled blond boy, for good measure.