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nervous hand through his greying hair, "what our friends are going to say if we bring a-a-a fairy into our house."

"But we can't leave him here," Kate had said.

"Why not?" Cathy's tone was vehement.

"Because, well, because he needs our help. Can't you see?" Kate was becoming more obstinate as her family opposed her. She turned to her son who hadn't spoken at all. "What do you think, Greg?" she asked.

Greg had smiled. "Oh, bring her along," he had said. He had looked at Cathy and laughed. "It'll be a change to have some agreeable feminine companionship for a change."

"Oh, cut it out," Jim Porter was angry and was about to lay down the law when a big Negro had come over to their boat.

"You wonder about Missa Kenny," he'd said, his wrinkled face further lined by worry and tension. "It not his fault," he added.

"What?" Kate's query was sharp.

"His mamma, she dress him lika girl alla time," the old man said anxiously. "She be a very sad woman, the mamma. It be time for Kenny to be young man, you take him away." He spoke with finality, nodded and backed away down the jetty. Then Kenneth had come into sight in his knee-length petticoats and open-toed high heels. He'd shaken hands with some of the men and, meeting the old Negro who'd spoken to the Porters, had given the old man a huge and affec- tionate hug and what looked suspiciously like a kiss to the disgusted Cathy Porter.

"We must help Kenneth," Kate had said urgently. "We can teach him how to be a young man." Cathy had then started to giggle, Greg had smiled, and Jim Porter had stomped off below decks. There had been no further objections, however, and Greg had even been gallant enough to assist the now demure Kenny with his cases, being rewarded with a tremulous smile, that brought the golden look back, and stunned Kate by the way it charged the young man's face with femininity.

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