"Both invalids already much better."
After breakfast Trif chanced to meet an old acquaintance on the piazza. Fenie, by a violent effort, regained her sadness and declined to meet any one. As Phil had said that ladies and children could safely go about unattended at Old Point, Trif begged Trixy to take her Aunt Fee a long walk on the beach, and to play as freely as she liked. Then Trif begged Fenie to keep dear Trixy out of doors, under the mild sun and in the invigorating air, and Fenie was glad of an excuse to get away from other people, so the couple strolled along the beach, in the direction of the lighthouse and the water battery, enjoying the strangeness of everything they saw.
"What's that bird-cage on top of that funny little straight up-and-down house for?" asked Trixy, pointing to the lighthouse.
"That's not a bird-cage, dear. That is the light that the Government puts in its window here, to show the sailors the way home. It burns very brightly, and all night long."
"Dear me! What a big gas bill the Government must have to pay! Say, Aunt Fee, what's that big black thing on the grass, on the top of the wall of the fort?"
"That's a cannon."
"What is it for?"
"Oh, to kill bad people with."
"Gracious! Is there such lots of bad people down here as that? Papa said the place was so nice and safe."
"It is safe enough, dear, for us. The bad people that are shot with cannons come here from other countries."
"When do they come?"
"Oh, don't ask me," said Fenie, who was trying to keep from not keeping miserable, but was not succeeding very well.
"Who shall I ask?"
"Oh, one of the soldiers, I suppose."
Fenie sat upon a rock which formed part of a little breakwater, looked out to sea, and took a pensive attitude, while Trixy stood and stared at the cannon, and wondered, and wished she knew more about the killing of bad people by artillery.
Just then Lieutenant Bruce Jermyn, of the artillery service, came from the flank of the water battery and walked toward the hotel. He was no pink-faced, slender youth, like lieutenants in most military novels, but a handsome, stout, manly-looking fellow of about thirty-five years, like hundreds of other lieutenants of our army in time of peace. Trixy saw him, hurried to him, and said:
"Mr. Soldier, will you please tell me when you're going to kill some bad people with the cannon?"
"Eh?" said Jermyn, taking his cigar from his lips and raising his cap. "Oh, not until they come here and insist upon being killed, I suppose."
"Why? Do they insist upon bein' killed, and come here to have you do it for them?"
"Um—er—well, we like to be ready, in case they should come, although we hope they'll stay away. I beg your pardon, but will you tell me your name? You look very like some one whom I used to know."
"My name's Trixy Highwood, and that's Aunt Fee, sittin' on the rocks there, and——"
"And her last name is?——"
"Wardlow."
"Well, well." The officer did not sigh, but he looked reminiscent; then he took both of Trixy's hands, looked intently into the child's face, and said:
"I knew your mother about ten years ago."
"Oh, Aunt Fee." shouted Trixy. "Come here—quick! Here's one of mamma's friends."
The awakening was somewhat rude, but when Fenie turned her head and saw an officer approaching, with Trixy, she at once became a curious yet dignified young woman. She arose and met the couple, as Jermyn saluted and said:
"The child is to blame for this interruption, Miss Wardlow. I recognized her by her resemblance to her mother, whom I hope you may have heard speak of me. My name is Jermyn. My battery was stationed in New York Harbor a few years ago."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Fenie, in pleased surprise. She had heard frequently of the young officer whom Trif had admired greatly, before Phil Highwood had laid siege to her heart. Phil, too, had heard much about him, and feared him, as any civilian suitor fears a rival who wears a military uniform. Fenie had often wished she might one day meet the man of whom she had heard so much, and now she was face to face with him, and—really, what a fine-looking fellow he was!
"What's inside of them—the cannons?" asked Trixy.
"Nothing more dangerous than air," the officer replied.
"Children are so idiotically curious," said Fenie.
"Oh, merely naturally so. Mayn't I show your niece one of the guns?—and won't you accompany us? 'Tis but a step or two to the water battery. By the way, I hope that Mr. and Mrs. Highwood are here?"
"My sister is," Fenie replied. "We came down here hastily—indeed, we are on our way to Florida, for their dear child's health."
"I must do myself the honor of calling at once."
"Won't you wait," said Trixy appealingly, "until you show me the bad-people-killers?"
"Surely," replied Jermyn, "if afterward you will guide me to your mother."
The visit to the guns was prolonged to include a tour of the fort, about which Fenie was wildly curious, for she had never been inside of a fort, as her sister had in the days to which Jermyn had alluded, and she and Trif were such inseparable companions that she wished to know of everything that Trif knew. Jermyn proved to be capital company; besides, was he not a one-time admirer of Fenie's sister? Fenie felt entirely at ease with him, and she was delighted with the strangeness of everything she saw, so soon she was chatting as freely and cheerily as if she had never known a trouble.
Later in the morning Trif, seated on the piazza near the beach, was astonished to see her sister approaching with an army officer, with whom she seemed to be well acquainted. Soldiers looked very much alike to Trif; besides, she was so delighted at the sudden improvement in Fenie's appearance that she did not recognize Jermyn until her sister, with a roguish look, said:
"Trif, I'm astonished! Should auld acquaintance be forgot?"
"Mrs. Highwood!"
"Oh, Mr. Jermyn!"
Neither blushed, although Fenie had hoped they would. As for Trixy, who had not had much opportunity to talk during the walk through the fort, she looked intently at her invalid charge, her dear Aunt Fee. The instant there was a lull in the conversation, Trixy could not help saying:
"Mamma, seems to me that somethin's made Aunt Fee look awful weller all at once; don't you think so?"
Then the blushes, for which Fenie had looked in her sister's cheeks, hurried into her own, and refused to depart.
CHAPTER V.
A SURPRISE.
"HERE'S a letter for you, Harry," said Kate Trewman one morning as her brother came to the breakfast table, "and from the penmanship of the address I should imagine it to be from a washerwoman or a newsboy."
Harry looked solemnly at the address—he had looked solemnly at everything for several days, but when he saw the signature he started, a motion which did not escape the observant eye of his sister, who exclaimed:
"Do tell me what has happened! You look