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understand why she felt she had to make excuses for him.
    "I've learned to expect Ruel when he arrives," Emily explained. "At thirty-five, he's much too old to be answering to me about his comings and goings."
    "Does he drive to and from Honolulu every day?" Julie was curious.
    "Practically," Emily Harmon led the way into the dining room.
    "That must be tiring."
    "He keeps an apartment in the city. If it's too late, he simply stays there."
    Somehow Julie doubted that he always spent the night alone. She glanced around the dining room, so comfortable and elegant with its rich woods and glassed doorway, to the courtyard and swimming pool outside. Ruel Chandler not only had all the comforts of home, but a bachelor pad as well. He had his cake and was eating it, too.
    Emily Harmon had noticed Julie's gaze stray outdoors. "I quite often have my evening meal on the lanai, especially if both Ruel and Deborah are away." Her lips thinned. "I hope this Kona weather doesn't last long."
    "It has something to do with the winds, doesn't it?" asked Julie.
    "The tradewinds come from the northeast. They're our predominant winds," her employer explained, "coming along with fair skies and sunshine. When the winds are from the south, it means rain and high humidity. No one likes to see the Kona winds come."
    "Why are they called Kona winds?" That was the part Julie didn't understand.
    "They take their name from the big island of Hawaii and its Kona coast. Since the big island lies south of Oahu, the winds coming from that direction are also coming from Kona, hence Kona winds."
    Malia came in with the soup course and the discussion of the weather was put aside. Fresh fruit and cheese were served for dessert. Ruel Chandler still had not made an appearance. They had tea in the living room while Malia cleared the dining table.
    "I think I'll go see Debbie," said Julie when she had finished her tea. "Do you mind?"
    Emily Harmon glanced up from the magazine she was reading. "No, go right ahead."
    The portable television set in the bedroom was on when Julie walked in. Debbie seemed surprised to see her, but the surprise quickly gave way to pleasure.
    "Are you ready to hit the books tomorrow?" Julie asked half-teasingly.
    "As ready as I'll ever be."
    "What are you watching?" She glanced at the screen as a commercial flashed on.
    "Nothing. At least, nothing that's interesting." There was boredom in the faint sigh the girl expelled.
    "I noticed this morning that you had quite a record collection." Julie wandered over to the turntable and the rack of albums in the stand beneath it.
    "They're mostly rock," Debbie offered in warning.
    Sending a smiling look over her shoulder, Julie asked, "Is there any other kind?"
    The smile was broadly returned. "According to Auntie Em, there is. Sue Ling isn't crazy about it, either. Why don't you pick out a couple of albums and put them on?"
    Julie did, then sat cross-legged in a chair by Debbie's bed. They talked for a while, about music and anything and everything. Julie found more to like in the girl. At times she seemed oddly mature; other moments she was innocent and vulnerable, totally without guile. In all respects, she was a typical teenager, interested in music, boys, school, and the future.
    The second album was half through when the telephone rang. It was on the stand by Debbie's bed, within reach of her uninjured right arm. Julie could tell that it was one of Debbie's girl friends and guessed the conversation would sooner or later get to a personal and private level of teenage confidences.
    "I'll see you in the morning," she whispered as she uncoiled her legs from the chair.
    "You don't have to go, Julie," Debbie protested. "It's only Cathy, one of my girl friends."
    "You don't really want your teacher listening in on your conversation," Julie insisted with a knowing smile. Debbie started to argue, before nodding an admission with a rueful grin. "Good night, Debbie."
    "Good night."
    When Julie didn't find