JERMYN hurried back to his post of duty with such mental rapidity that neither train nor steamer could keep pace with him. He told himself that he was a fool; that he had not known Kate Trewman a week, and that in the first half of that same week he had imagined himself in love with Trif's sister, yet, after everything that he could say against himself, the fact remained that he was so interested in Miss Trewman that he had all sorts of fears as to what might happen to his prospects during his absence.

He told himself that probably she was already engaged to some other man, for such women were so scarce that he could not understand how one of them had thus far escaped matrimony. He also reminded himself that he had been admiring fine women all his life, and that quite a number of them had married other men, generally before he had been able to interest them in himself. Still, what did that prove? Merely, that good men, like great men, thought alike. He would not make a fool of himself; he really wasn't in love, but he certainly would endeavor to become better acquainted with Miss Trewman, and if she were not already promised to another, he would make her his own, unless she objected.

The first thing necessary, however, upon reaching Old Point, was to report to his superior officer. He, therefore, hurried to the fort; then, on his way back to the hotel, he dropped into the club, merely to see who was there, or had been there, and in an instant he was buttonholed by the Admiral, who drew him aside, and said:

"Tell me all about it! Facts first and explanations afterward."

"There's nothing to tell," Jermyn replied, "except that Mr. Highwood has that exasperating letter. Is there anything new at the hotel?"

"Nothing except that Miss Trixy—what a genius for mischief that child has!—Trixy has made a coolness in some way between the Highwoods and Trewmans. Miss Trewman acts all the while as if there was something on her mind that was worth being indignant about, and I assure you that the entire situation is extremely uncomfortable for a certain old gentleman who wishes nothing but the best to all parties."

Jermyn frowned and said:

"I suppose the sooner I try to find out what it all is about, the better it will be for my peace of mind."

"Be very careful, I beg of you, my dear boy," exclaimed the Admiral, as Jermyn started away. "Miss Trewman is a most estimable young woman, but she has a mind of her own."

"So much the better. It probably will teach her to have proper respect for other peoples' minds."

"But mayn't I suggest——"

"Perhaps—when I return."

With that reply, the Admiral looked miserable and undecided, and he finally persuaded some one to join him at a game of checkers, which to that day he had thought the last refuge of an adult mind which also was diseased.

Jermyn hurried toward the hotel, determined to take whatever misfortune might come to him, rather than be annoyed by more accidents. As to Trixy—Jermyn had always liked children, and years before, he had made a reputation on a western bound train, and afterward in the service, by caring all night for a fretful child so that the infant's mother might get some needed rest. He wished he might have charge of Trixy for a few days; she was Trif's child, and Trif was to him the ideal woman, and it was impossible that the child should not have inherited some of her mother's estimable qualities; but if Trixy had been making new and unexpected trouble for him, he wished there might be excuse for putting her into the most remote casemate of the fort, locking the door, and losing the key.

As he thought and fretted, he entered the hotel and made his way through office and parlor toward the ball-room, where every one who did not dance congregated to look at every one who did. He nodded to several acquaintances, but his thoughts were entirely about Trixy until he was recalled to better command of himself by the sound of a well-remembered voice:

"Oh, Mr. Jermyn! What an unexpected pleasure! We were told that you would be away several days."

"I am glad to say that I am not so unfortunate," Jermyn replied.

"Hello, Mr. Jermyn," piped a small voice from somewhere behind Miss Trewman, and then the young man saw Trixy, looking as innocent and confiding as if nothing whatever had happened which could trouble her mind or her conscience.

"Trixy!" exclaimed Jermyn, advancing menacingly upon the child. "I met your father yesterday, and he told me to give you a thorough shaking for him"—here he picked up the child and acted according to Phil's orders—"and," he continued, "I suppose he would have sent you a kiss also if I hadn't left him in haste, so I'll give you one on suspicion."

"That is a very interesting child," said Kate, as Trixy hurried away to find her mother and aunt and report Jermyn's return, "but I do think she can make more trouble than any other child I ever heard of."

"Such offences must be condoned, I suppose," replied Jermyn, too happily surprised by his reception to harbor ill-will against any one.

"What a forgiving mood—for a soldier!" said Kate, who imagined Jermyn knew something of the mystery she was trying to fathom.

"Soldiers are often compelled to learn that those who do most harm mean least," Jermyn replied. "But what has the child been doing since I went away?"

"I've not the slightest idea. Perhaps she has done nothing, but she has excited my curiosity greatly, through some references to myself." Then Kate looked enquiringly into Jermyn's eyes, and the young man was so delighted to be looked at by her in any way that he met her gaze unflinchingly, although respectfully, and finally overcame it, and Kate, wishing to change the subject of conversation, murmured something about the heat of the room.

"Let us escape from it," suggested Jermyn, "and join Mrs. Highwood and her sister. Probably they are on the piazza, for I saw Trixy disappear in that direction."

No one who hasn't tried it knows how hard it is to find any one on a crowded piazza a quarter of a mile long, and after sunset too. Success is still more difficult when the searchers have something else to concern their minds and eyes. Jermyn and Kate were clever talkers, and neither of them had often found company so agreeable, so they passed and repassed Trif and Fenie several times without seeing them, and Trif smiled archly, and Fenie gave her a warning pinch, for Harry was with them.

Harry himself was no fool, and as the ladies themselves suddenly lapsed into comparative silence he remembered that his sister frequently reminded him that ladies had affairs of their own to talk about, so he insisted upon getting lemonade for them, and the journey from the piazza to the cafe was quite long, so there was much time for chat before his return, and every moment of it was improved, while Trixy, seated on a low stool, with her head in her mother's lap, seemed slumbering as peacefully as if in her bed, and the physician at the hotel had assured Trif that the salt air at night was not in the least unwholesome, but quite the reverse.

When Harry returned, followed by a waiter with a tray, and it was learned that he had not forgotten the smallest member of the party, Trixy awoke opportunely, and felt so refreshed that she had to relieve herself of superabundant vitality by tripping to and fro on the broad walk at the edge of the beach, with several children with whom she had become acquainted. They were having a glorious time when Trixy suddenly espied Kate and Jermyn; then she lost interest in her companions and began to stare.

The objects of her attention did not notice her; they would not have been conscious of the presence of the President of the United States, had that distinguished person passed them in the full glare of the occasional lamps. They were not talking love, nor anything remotely resembling it, but they were entirely absorbed in each other, which answered the same purpose. Jermyn had promised a brother subaltern, only two or three days before, some coaching in the mysteries of ballistics, and for this very evening, but he forgot all about it, and the subaltern, who looked anxiously about for Jermyn and finally found him, saw for himself that his chances were very slight, so he sat down at the edge of the promenade and engaged Trixy in conversation. The child soon remarked:

"You don't think they're a couple of fools, do you?"

"They? Who?" asked the officer.

"Why, Lieutenant Jermyn and Miss Trewman."

"Certainly not! What an odd question! If you were a few years older, young lady, you yourself would think them eminently sensible."

"Oh, is that true? Well, I'm glad of it, 'cause a while ago Aunt Fee said if they wasn't fools they'd make a match of it. How do people make matches, anyhow? What do they make 'em of?"

"Upon my word, young woman," replied the youth, after a quiet laugh, "you're of a very inquiring turn of mind. Perhaps you had better put that question to your mother—no, not now."

"But they know, don't they? 'Cause if they don't, how are they to make one?"

"That's for themselves to find out," answered the young man, recalling an experience or two of his own which had not been successful. "By the way, how many wells have you dug to-day?"

"I don't remember," said Trixy, going into a brown study. The young officer strolled off to struggle by himself with his problem, leaving Trixy with her own. A possible aid to solution came to the child's mind. Exclaiming to herself, "Why, of course!" she began to walk, looking carefully at every person she met. Soon she saw Jermyn and Kate and attached herself to them.

"What is it, dear?" asked Kate in a tone so tender that any hesitation the child may have had vanished at once.

"Have you made it?"

"Made what?"

"Oh, if you don't know, it don't mind, I s'pose. Lieutenant Prewser thought you did know, or I wouldn't have asked you."

"What on earth is the child talking about?" asked Kate.

"Explain yourself, Trixy," said Jermyn. "What did Prewser say we knew how to do?"

"Well, come to think of it, he didn't say you knew, but he said it was for you to find out."

"But what was it?" persisted Kate.

"Why, 'twas how to make a match."

Kate suddenly averted her head, and acted as if she wanted to run away. Jermyn took her hand—gently, very gently, yet with sufficient force to detain her. Then he said:

"Trixy, your mother wants you, this very instant."