AS Trif was a prudent wife and housekeeper, she had been moaning to herself for days about the expense of the Southern trip. Nevertheless, she arranged for a lunch party regardless of expense, as befitted an occasion when two happy couples, newly made so, were to be her guests. She promised herself that she would pay for it by not buying a single new article of clothing, not even a new frock, for the coming season. She would economize in any and every way; she would let her house, furnished, for a few months, and take Trixy and Fenie and herself to some out-of-the-way place where everything was cheap, and the other boarders would not know her old clothes from the newest. Further, as she would have to send home for more money, she sat down and wrote an ecstatic confession to her husband, telling him that she really thought it her duty, as a member of society, to complete the matches which were as good as made between Harry and Fenie, Kate and Jermyn.

Then she sent to Jermyn such a note as only a great-hearted, good-hearted woman could write, after which she insisted on helping to array Kate as a queen should be dressed for her formal coronation. She was as earnest as she was sentimental, so she talked so strongly as well as romantically to Kate that the latter grew sweeter and handsomer every moment, until finally she felt as if the occasion would be one of consecration instead of a mere meeting with the man who already seemed a very old acquaintance.

Trif told her she looked like a goddess, a sacrifice, an angel, a queen—everything a good woman could be while trying to devote her love and life to a worthy man. Trif had been telling her, and Kate was in a condition of mind to believe it, that marriages were made in heaven, and despite all future ceremonies that might be necessary her obligations were already recorded above, and Kate rose to the dignity of the occasion, and looked sweeter and felt happier, although more humble and earnest than in all her life before, for were not all who were to be present quite near to her?—her brother, who seemed in the seventh heaven of happiness; Fenie, who appeared almost too beautiful, in her happiness and devotion, to be merely human; Trif, the woman who had known love for years and rejoiced in it with a nobility surpassing that of any other woman Kate had ever met; and Trixy—oh, Kate could take even Trixy to her heart. Mischief-making though the child had been, Trixy's hands and no others should strew flowers when the day came for Kate and Jermyn to be made husband and wife. What a heaven on earth this much-abused old world was, to be sure!

"Oh, Kate," exclaimed Trif, reappearing for about the twentieth time, "what do you suppose it can mean? Before breakfast I wrote Jermyn, asking him to lunch with us at noon, and I've just received word that he is not at the fort. He has gone away—gone to New York."

Kate almost tottered, so Trif hurried to support her. Suddenly Kate changed her manner and exclaimed:

"What a grand fellow he is!"

"What do you mean?" asked Trif, almost doubting her own senses. Kate looked proud, then pensive, after which she said softly:

"Last night I sent him word of what had happened—the remarks of those inquisitive women, you know, who got hold of what Trixy had said, and I told him it would be necessary for me to return—that I would go to New York this morning. He has started at once to follow me. I might have imagined, in advance, that he would do exactly that. The splendid fellow!"

"The unhappy fellow, I should say," wailed Trif. "There he goes, probably on the very train he supposed you would take, and he is looking for you, and his heart is aching as if——"

"Oh!" gasped Kate, with the manner of a tragedy queen. "I never, never thought of that."

"De lunch is served, ladies," said the colored waiter who had been busying himself in the room for some moments.

"Come along, dear," said Trif. "If you love him as I loved Phil the day after he proposed you'll have him in your heart very safely, no matter how far away he may be. The more trouble you think him in, the dearer you will love him. As to the rest of us, we will promise to talk of him only."

"Indeed, yes," added Fenie, who had heard the unwelcome news, and hastened to offer consolation. "I won't say a word about any one else—even about Harry."

"Neither will I," volunteered Trixy, who had followed her aunt into the room. "He——"

"You little—" interrupted Kate, moving toward the child with vengeful gesture, but Trixy continued:

"He looked so splendid last night when he kissed you that I haven't thought of anythin' since except the way papa kisses mamma."

Then both women blushed, and Fenie looked so oddly at Harry that the young man blushed too, but recovered sufficiently to ask Fenie whether they shouldn't set the others a good example by leading the way to the table. Although very little time elapsed before the remainder of the party followed them, Fenie was found with brilliant roses in her cheeks, while upon her finger was a ring which none of the party but Harry had ever seen before, and Harry was looking as proud as a king, and Fenie was regarding him as if she were his most adoring and obedient subject.

"If my loss," said Kate gayly, after several significant glances from Trif had compelled her to see the brilliant upon Fenie's hand, "has been to the gain of any one else, or even to two other people, I shall endeavor to endure it bravely. I've always been sacrificing myself for my brother; I shall be glad if my long vigil is to end."

So the party became quite happy despite the missing guest, and there was so much of the merry joking that brothers and sisters can exchange that Fenie and Harry soon began to talk as if they had been engaged for months instead of moments. And how Trif, the happy wife, and Kate, the proud betrothed, did enjoy the spectacle! Kate, indeed, soon began to hold herself to account for forgetting absolutely, for at least half an hour, the loyal soul that was vainly following her and might not be able to find her until—when? She became very pensive and thoughtful; Harry must find out for her, at the fort, if possible, how to communicate with Jermyn. She would remain at the hotel, be stared at, talked about, anything, if only that the man who loved her should not remain unhappy a single moment longer than was absolutely necessary. She thought so seriously that Trixy finally remarked:

"Mamma, dear, I don't believe Miss Trewman likes this kind of lobster."

"Card for you, ma'am," said the waiter suddenly to Trif.

Trif took the card and read aloud:

"Admiral Allison; 'just for a moment.' How odd! Perhaps, Kate, 'tis something about Jermyn. You may say I'll be down in a moment."

"He's right outside de do', ma'am," the waiter replied.

"The business-like way of some men!" exclaimed Trif. "Still, it must be something important. By the way, girls, the Admiral is a delightful gentleman, and he knows the two secrets that are in our hearts to-day, and we have a vacant place at the table—show him in, waiter."

The party arose. The Admiral entered the room, and behind him came——

"Jermyn!" shouted Kate. How ridiculously thin armor is when there is a healthy heart under it! Kate rushed at Jermyn, threw her arms about him, and kissed him as affectionately as if he were a long-lost relation.

"How did you come to be here?" she finally asked.

"The Admiral brought me," Jermyn replied.

Then, shocking, yet truthful to relate, Kate kissed the Admiral also. She was the taller of the two, so she had to lean over him, but no one laughed or seemed astonished—no one but Trixy, who exclaimed, "My!" but no notice was taken of it.

"Ladies and gentleman," said the Admiral, gravely, after the excitement had subsided a little, and he stood with a lapel of his coat drawn back while he drew from his pocket a medal which hung from a clasp, "I thought when this medal was presented to me by my country that I had gained the highest honor of which an American was capable, but I am now compelled to change my opinion. Miss Trewman, the goddess of liberty will hereafter owe you a grudge."

"But, Admiral," said Kate, all blushes and brilliancy, "how could you know that he had gone, and that—that—oh, that I wanted him back?"

"Oh, I chanced to meet him, very early this morning, learned that he was going, and the reason of his sudden departure."

"And you prevented him?"

"How could I? He said that you had gone unexpectedly, and that he thought it his duty to follow you. I should have felt as he did, in similar circumstances, so I bade him God-speed."

"But he started. I don't——"

"I did, my dear," said Jermyn, "but the Admiral, with a special boat, chased our craft and the train, found me, stopped the train, and brought me back, and—here I am."

"Oh, you are, indeed! Admiral, you're an angel."

The Admiral bowed profoundly and said:

"I cannot contradict a lady."

"But how did you know—Oh, do explain what I'm sure none of us yet understand."

"The Spaniards have a saying," the old gentleman replied, "that fortunes, like miseries always travel in couples. While I was breakfasting this morning, and feeling an almost impertinent interest, I must confess, in the affairs of an estimable couple who seemed to have encountered contrary winds, Trixy——"

"Trixy?"

"Really, Miss Trewman," said Trixy, with a troubled yet appealing face, "I didn't tell him anything awful. He said you'd gone to New York, and I said he was mistaken, 'cause mamma had made you change your mind, and that mamma was goin' to give a luncheon party this mornin' to you and Mr. Jermyn, and—and—that was all I said—wasn't it, Admiral?"

"Absolutely all. Whatever has happened since has been entirely through what Trixy said."

Then Kate kissed Trixy, and told her that she was the dearest little thing that ever was born, and the information seemed to do the child a lot of good. Afterward it occurred to Kate that the man who had been the principal subject of her thoughts during the day was getting very little of her attention, and as the Admiral insisted upon departing, and Harry and Fenie had eyes only for each other, and Trif seemed entirely happy with no one to talk to, the meal passed delightfully although slowly to its close. When general conversation chanced again to begin, Fenie remarked:

"It does seem that none of us can have any more misunderstandings. There never would have been any but for Trixy, but she certainly can do no harm in the future."

"Trixy certainly has learned her lesson," said Trif.

"Papa says that some folks never get through with their lessons till they die," observed Trixy, while all the rest looked serious.