"Say, Mr. Jermyn, you can read writin', can't you?"
"Sometimes, Trixy, sometimes."
"Then won't you tell me what's on the back of this picture?"
Jermyn read aloud: "My dear little girl, I am very fond of you, and I shall be glad to have you carry my picture on your journey with you, so that I may be brought to your mind once in awhile. Yours sincerely, Harry Trewman."
"Oh, I'm so glad he sent it!" exclaimed Trixy. Jermyn smiled and replied:
"Upon my word, Miss Trixy, you're beginning quite early to be interested in young men."
"You're the second person who's made that mistake," Trixy replied. "The picture isn't for me; it's for Aunt Fee."
"Indeed!" Jermyn looked grave a moment or two before he continued, "Wouldn't it be better, then, for you not to show it to people in general?"
"Oh, I'm not going to. I only wanted to know what the writin' was about."
"Suppose you put it into the envelope," suggested Jermyn, "and take it to your aunt's room."
"Just what I was goin' to do," said Trixy. "Isn't it funny that both of us thought of the same thing?"
Jermyn admitted that it was, although he was oppressively silent as he walked through the hall—he who had always told Trixy some funny story when he met her.
Fenie had learned to like Jermyn greatly during their short acquaintance, but on the evening that followed the picture incident he surpassed himself in deference, humor and brilliancy. Fenie did not wonder that Trif had always remembered him pleasantly. She did wish he was not quite so old; a man of thirty-five seems dreadfully ancient to a girl of twenty. Still, soldiers were splendid anyway. Of course, he did not care particularly for her, for he had never seen her until that week, but there was something in his voice and manner on this particular evening that affected her strangely. Could it be that he was falling in love with her? If so, she—she really ought to feel sorry.
But was she? She could scarcely believe so; she would examine her mind seriously when the evening ended; perhaps she would speak to Trif about it. There was nothing between her and Harry Trewman—she could honestly say that, and perhaps—perhaps she had acted very foolishly about that young man. Harry was a fine fellow, as young men go, but how plain he appeared, to her mind's eye, beside the handsome soldier who scarcely left her side that evening!
By the time the evening ended the young woman had a head full of pleasing fancies marred only by a weak compunction of conscience. She sat in Trif's room a few minutes, chatting with her sister about people whom they had met during the day, and admiring Trixy, who was always a charming picture when asleep. Then she passed into her own room; in a moment Trif heard a sharp exclamation, and Fenie stood in the doorway between the rooms, gasping:
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Of what? Oh, my sister, you're looking like a ghost!"
"I feel as if I had seen one. Why did you do it? What have I done to——"
"Tryphena Wardlow, what are you talking about?" asked Trif, approaching the girl. "Do say something intelligible, if you can, and stop acting."
For answer, Fenie took her sister's hand and led the way to the mirror, between the glass and frame of which was a photograph of Harry Trewman.
"In the name of all that's mysterious," exclaimed Trif, "where did it come from?"
"Where, indeed! Didn't you place it there, to—to——"
"I give you my word that I never saw it, or knew of its existence, until this instant."
"Oh, this is dreadful," exclaimed Fenie, sinking into a chair. "There's some mystery about it. Who can be here who knows anything about—about what had happened? Who has been able to get into our room without our knowledge? I shan't dare to fall asleep. I shan't——"
"Do stop being dramatic, Fee, and try to be sensible. The picture didn't sneak in through the keyhole, nor did invisible hands bring it, although I confess that for the moment I'm mystified. Oh, I have it! Mark my words, Trixy knows something about that picture."
In an instant Fenie was in the adjoining room and shaking Trixy. The child was sleeping as soundly as ocean air and the lullaby of gentle surf can make children sleep, but Fenie persevered.
"Picture?—in your lookin' glass?" the child drawled. "Oh, yes; I put it there. That was the s'prise—that I wouldn't—tell you all about. Did it s'prise you—lots?"
"Yes—yes. But how did you get it?"
Trixy was falling asleep again, and her mother insisted that further explanation should be deferred until morning. As Fenie took the picture from the mirror she saw the inscription and read it. Then Bruce Jermyn went out of her mind and a joyous feeling took his place.
CHAPTER VI.
ALL BY CHANCE.
"I'VE found out all about them," said Kate Trewman to her brother, a day or two after Trif, Trixy and Fenie had gone South. "They've gone to Florida, for Trixy's health."
"Who have gone to Florida?" asked Harry, trying to appear indifferent.
"Whom do you suppose I mean? Mrs. Highwood, and Trixy, and Fenie. That child is the apple of their eye. Still, I'm inclined to think that Fenie herself wanted to get away for a while. I'm sure if I'd been in her place I'd have wanted to, had I known that certain other people knew certain things."
"What people? What things?"
"Oh, don't be silly."
"Well, my dear, I've been thinking of going South myself—oh, no; not to Florida. Our firm have a little business at Norfolk that requires personal attention, and they want me to attend to it. Don't you want to go with me? Old Point Comfort is within an hour's sail of Norfolk, and our friends, the Braymans, went down there yesterday, to remain a week, and there's a big fort there, full of officers, who are said to work harder and enjoy their leisure better than any other men in the United States."
"We go," said Kate, and go they did, the very next day.
Meanwhile, in entire ignorance of what some of their acquaintances were doing, Trif and Fenie found some small shopping necessary; the nearest shopping centre to Old Point was Norfolk. So one morning to Norfolk they went, taking Trixy with them.
Grown people's shopping is very tiresome business to little people, so Trixy became so uncomfortable that she begged to be allowed to rest by standing upon the sidewalk and looking at the passers-by, and Trif permitted it, stipulating that the child should not go further from the store than the street at either side.
The child soon found herself having a delightful time, and storing her mental picture book with unfamiliar scenes, when suddenly she shouted, "Hooray!"
Then she dashed across the street, and with one hand pulled the frock of Kate Trewman, while with the other she grasped Harry's sleeve.
"Trixy Highwood! Did you drop down from the sky?"
"I s'pose I did," said Trixy, after a moment of thought, "but that was seven years ago. To-day, though, I dropped over here from Old Point Comfort."
"But how do you come to be roaming the streets of Norfolk?" asked Kate.
"I ain't roamin'. I can't go off of this block, 'cause mamma and Aunt Fee are in the store there, buyin' things."
"But we thought you'd gone to Florida?"
"Oh, we're goin' there one of