WHAT Jermyn and Kate said to each other in the two or three minutes immediately following Trixy's departure was entirely their own affair, and need not be repeated here; beside, they never afterward agreed exactly as to what it was. Suffice it to say that they walked somewhat rapidly in the direction of the disappearing child, and parted pleasantly. Kate joined her brother and Trif, and asked how they had secreted themselves so successfully, when she and Jermyn had been seeking them everywhere for the last half-hour. She asked also if the night was not simply superb—heavenly! and whether they weren't the stupidest people in the world to sit there quietly while the air was simply entrancing. For herself, she thought it an absolute sin to sit still in such weather, so she begged Trixy to take a little walk with her.

The child was quite willing, so the couple strolled a few moments. Soon Trixy asked:

"Does lovely nights always make you so dreadful quiet?"

"Am I quiet? I was thinking about something. There! I shall stop thinking about it. But, Trixy dear, how did you and Lieutenant Prewser come to talk about—about such things?"

"What things?"

"Don't you remember what you said to Lieutenant Jermyn and me?"

"No—o—o," drawled Trixy, whose mind had roamed over several other subjects in the past quarter hour. "What was it?"

"Oh, never mind it," said Kate hastily, "if you don't recall it."

"Oh, yes; it was about match-makin', wasn't it?"

"Yes," Kate answered, so savagely that the child started. "Did you ask your mother about it?"

"No. I was goin' to, but they all was talkin' about somethin' else, so I didn't get a chance."

"Then don't. There are some things about which little girls shouldn't talk, and about which their mammas don't like them to talk, and this is one of them; so don't mention it to your mother at all. Do you understand me?"

"Ye—es," replied Trixy, with a drawl which indicated doubt. "But mamma says, whenever I want to know anythin' about anythin' I must come and ask her right away."

"Very well, let me ask her for you, about this, won't you? You know that I love you very dearly, and wouldn't like your mamma to think badly of you in any way, so——"

"Then if you love me so much," interrupted Trixy, "why don't you give me all the dolls you said you would?"

"How shamefully forgetful I am! My dear child, you shall have those dolls to-morrow, if I have to go all the way to Norfolk for them."

"Good! good! good!"

"But," continued Kate, with an uplifted finger, which looked very impressive in the semi-darkness, "not—one—single—doll, if you say a word about this matter to your mother."

"All right!"

"You are sure you will not forget?"

"Ever so sure. If I find myself thinkin' about it at all I'll just say 'Dolls, dolls, dolls' to myself as hard as I can, and then all the think will go out of my mind."

"That's a good girl."

Then Kate lifted Trixy, embraced her, kissed her, and called her the dearest little girl on the face of the earth, after which, greatly to the child's astonishment, she hurried Trixy to her mother and excused herself, saying that she had suddenly found the night air much damper than she had supposed.

No sooner did Jermyn leave Kate's side than he went to the ball-room, the office, and about the piazzas, asking every acquaintance whether Prewser had been seen in the course of the evening. Finally he found his comrade and a reproachful face in Prewser's own quarters, and after some sharp questioning he promised to help the young man at ballistics and anything else so long as he lived. Prewser asked if congratulations were in order, and Jermyn frowned and said "Nonsense," but he afterwards whistled merrily and Prewser began to nurse some suspicions.

"Trixy, dear," said Fenie the next morning, while preparing for breakfast, "if I were you I wouldn't follow a lady and gentleman while they are promenading in the evening. It isn't ladylike. I am sure that your mamma will tell you that I am right."

Trif looked amusedly at her sister and said, "One word for others and two for yourself," but she added her own cautions to Fenie's, and said she ought to have called Trixy away from Kate and Jermyn the evening before.

"Why, I only—" began Trixy. Then she stopped and exclaimed "Dolls."

"What have dolls to do with it?" asked Fenie.

"Lots—just lots. I'm going to have 'em if I don't—oh, I nearly told."

"Told what?"

"Why, that—oh, Dolls! Dolls! Dolls! There."

"Trif," exclaimed Fenie, "I do believe the child has lost her senses."

"Oh, no I haven't, but—Dolls! Dolls! Dolls!"

"Trixy,—"

"Fenie, do be quiet," exclaimed Trif. "Trixy, run down to the table and tell our waiter we will be there very soon, so he may have the oysters ready for us. Hurry, dear."

No sooner was Trixy out of the room than Trif said:

"Fenie, you silly girl, can't you ever see anything? I suspected it last night, but now I am sure of it."

"Sure of what?"

"Why, that Kate and Jermyn are at an understanding—or sure to be. I saw when Kate rejoined us last night that something unusual had happened, and that it was not unpleasant. She acted just as I—as I felt when Phil——"

"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Fenie, going quickly into some day-dreams of her own, for she and Harry were getting along capitally together. They were not engaged, but there could be no mistake as to what the dear fellow meant, and what she wanted him to mean. She did not speak another word while preparing for breakfast, for she wouldn't for worlds have told what was in her mind—not even to her sister—yet she feared she would tell it if she spoke at all. But wasn't it delightful? She would marry Harry, in the course of time, and Kate would marry Jermyn. She wondered which couple would be first at the altar. What a delightful party of friends they would be, the two couples, with Trif and Phil!

The girl's reverie was so delightful that even breakfast did not destroy it, although she had the healthy appetite to which young women have an inherent right. She took the customary morning walk along the beach with Trif and Trixy, but there was an expectant look in her eye which Trif told herself would delight Harry when he saw it. Trixy tried to talk with her, but got such vague replies that she gave up in despair and began to throw pebbles. Finally the sisters seated themselves on the piazza, and Trif began to wish she knew all that she suspected, for she longed to write her husband all about it. There was no sentimental nonsense in her mind about the handsome soldier who had once hoped for her heart and hand; but what good woman does not rejoice to see an honest admirer happily married—after she herself had married happily?

The longer she thought of it the surer she was that her intuitions were correct, so she said she must go and write a line to dear Phil. Fenie accompanied her, but when Trif reached her room Fenie was invisible, for the girl had caught a glimpse of Kate in one of the halls, and had hurried toward her. Fenie was thinking about Kate and Jermyn, so she put her arm about Kate, drew her into a parlor in which there chanced to be no one else, kissed her, and exclaimed:

"You darling girl, I'm so happy about it!"

"So am I, dear," Kate replied, returning Fenie's endearments in kind; "but I do think Harry might have said something to me, after all that I have done for him."

"Harry?" said Fenie, with a wondering look. "Doesn't he approve of the match?"

"Approve? My dear girl, how could he have made it if he hadn't thought well of it? How strangely you talk!"

"He made it? The sly rogue! He and I have chatted together for hours every day, but I didn't imagine that anything of the sort was on his mind."

"Tryphena Wardlow!" exclaimed Kate. "Will you tell me what you are talking about?"

"About you and Lieutenant Jermyn, to be sure."

"Oh, Fenie!" Kate flushed deeply before she continued: "He and I have become pleasantly acquainted, and I esteem him very highly, but can you imagine for a moment that I am anything more than the acquaintance of a gentleman whom I never saw until this week? How did you get so crazy a fancy?"

Fenie went down into the valley of humiliation, and said she was sure she didn't know, unless something that Trixy had said—no, something that Trixy hadn't said—that is, Trixy had behaved so strangely——

"I don't believe," said Kate frigidly, "that if the cases were reversed I would attach any importance to the babble of a child. In the circumstances, I think I ought to be told what Trixy did say, for she talks with every one, and I should like to know whether it is safe for me to remain here any longer. I supposed it was safe for me to be here with your sister as chaperone, but so long as she has her dreadful child with her no one's reputation is safe. I shall return home at once. Fortunately Harry's business which brought him to Norfolk is finished, so there is no reason for our remaining here any longer."

Fenie burst into tears, but Kate had her own trouble to think of, so she remained indignant. She recalled what Trixy had repeated the night before, as having been said by some officer; she herself had been too—well, too surprised and embarrassed at the moment, and too exhilarated a moment or two later, to think about the first cause of what passed between her and Jermyn, but she certainly was not going to remain where her name could give occupation to idle tongues.

"Aunt Fee," exclaimed Trixy, appearing suddenly at the door of the parlor, "I've been lookin' everywhere for you. Mamma asked me to find you for her."

"Trixy," asked Kate, "what silly things have you been saying about me?"

"Not any. Every time I was goin' to say anythin' I just said 'Dolls' instead. Didn't I, Aunt Fee?"

"Then how did your aunt know——"

"Oh, are you all here?" exclaimed Trif, entering the parlor. "I only sent for you, Fenie, to let you know that I am going to write my letter on the piazza instead of in my room; 'tis so much pleasanter out of doors. Don't you—why, my dear sister, what is the matter?"

The girl, who was thinking only of the impending departure of the young man who was all the world to her, hurried from the room, followed by Trixy. Kate began at once to complain to Trif of the child's telling—she knew not what, and that was the dreadful thing about it. When Trif learned what Kate's fears and suspicions were she said:

"Trixy has told nothing; she has had nothing to tell. If any one is to blame, it is I, who could not help imagining, and hoping too, and talking to my sister about it. If there's nothing to it I shall be dreadfully unhappy, for Jermyn is much the finest unmarried man of my acquaintance, and you are the only woman I know who is entirely worthy of him."

"Aunt Fee's cryin' awful, mamma," said Trixy, returning to the parlor.

Trif looked reproachfully at Kate, who showed signs of relenting, although she was having a severe struggle with her pride.

"When are you goin' to Norfolk to get my dolls?" asked Trixy.

Kate laughed, despite herself; Trif embraced her and whispered something which made Kate blush, look toward Trixy, and say:

"Run quickly, dear, and tell Aunt Fee that I've been real unkind, and that—for her sake, I won't return to New York until—oh, I don't know when."