KATE came within a day or two to enjoy the society of Jermyn so much that she did not hesitate to say so plainly to Fenie. True, she said it half as a test, to be to Fenie's own feelings, but as the girl listened without a sign of , and even looked pleased, Kate was so well satisfied with the situation that she wanted to talk farther on the subject, and with some one more competent to estimate a mature man and gentleman at his true value.  
She therefore began to discuss Jermyn with Trif, who was so happy over the change in Fenie's manner that she was quite willing to rejoice and sympathize with any one about anything. Like any other good woman who had been compelled to disappoint a good man, she wished she might see the man made happy by some other good woman, so she wondered whether a match between Jermyn and Kate might not be possible. Her own married life was so happy that she profoundly pitied any other woman who was unmarried yet old enough to know her own mind.
 
How Trif did long for Phil! If she could see him, only for an hour, to consult with him [Pg 78]about this new and idea that had taken possession of her.
 
he would agree with her, for he always came to her way of thinking, or she to his, she was not sure which. She had half a mind to telegraph him to run down to the fort for a day or two; she was sure his old firm would not miss him greatly during so short an absence. Then she thought it would be better to write him and ask his advice.
 
Half wondering which course would be the better, she began a letter, but was interrupted again and again, so at night she was but little further advanced than in the morning. Besides, a series of showers had upon Old Point, and Trixy was obliged to remain indoors, and a little girl away from home on a showery day is as restless as a guilty conscience, so Trif finally called herself a heartless mother, and tried to devote herself to her child. Trixy asked only that mamma would write a good long letter for her to papa, and Trif began it, and got well under way, when a waiter came to the room with a message from Fenie, begging Trif to come down at once to see some old friends who had unexpectedly arrived, so poor little Trixy was hurried to bed, where she thought of life's disappointments until she fell asleep.
 
A little matter like a night's sleep could not make Trixy forget anything upon which she had set her heart. Early the next morning the child begged her mamma to finish that letter to papa, and she to the subject several times [Pg 79]during the day. Finally she searched her mother's for the unfinished letter, and endeavored to complete it herself, in imitation of print, which was the only sort of writing she knew well. She had not learned to use a pen, and the only pencil she could find had a very bad point, so she put both letter and pencil into her pocket, and resolved to her time until she could find her mother disengaged.
 
Once upon the beach, and at her favorite occupation of well-digging, she forgot the letter for two or three hours, but the subject was brought back to her mind by overhearing one of the male guests tell another that he had just received a letter from his little daughter, and that a man never knew how dear his children were until he was separated from them for a few days.
 
Suddenly the of sand-wells, the cheery old Admiral, hove in view, and Trixy hurried to him and asked:
 
"You can sharpen lead-pencils, can't you?"
 
"I could when I was at the Academy," was the modest reply. In a moment Trixy's hand and eyes and head and tongue were working in , after the manner of beginners at letter-writing, while the Admiral, a little apart, pretended to write something in a book, but really made a , to be presented to Trif, of the little correspondent as she knelt upon the floor and used a chair as a desk.
 
"Writin's dreadful hard work," said Trixy, after several moments of effort. "I do wish [Pg 80]that mamma—oh, say, Admiral, you can write, can't you? Of course you can—I see you doin' it now. Won't you please finish this letter for me if I tell you what to say? That's the way mamma writes 'em for me—she begun this one. If you do it you needn't pay me five cents the next time my well's the best of the lot, and I guess it's goin' to be the best to-day. Is it a bargain?"
 
"But, Trixy," replied the Admiral, "I question the of hearing other peoples' family affairs."
 
"Oh, I don't write no family affairs. This is only a letter to papa."
 
"Your , my dear, is as faultless as your grammar. Still, I'll be your clerk for a few moments."
 
"All right; I'm very much obliged. First, though, you'd better begin and read what's already wrote, 'cause it's so long since mamma began this letter for me that I can't remember what I told her to say."
 
"H'm—let me see," said the Admiral, adjusting his glasses. "'Dear Old Papa'——"
 
"Go on."
 
The Admiral, who, like most men of affairs, had acquired a way of reading a page at a glance, suddenly looked at Trixy in . Then he re-read the letter, and said, with a twinkle of his eyes:
 
"Aren't you rather young to take so much interest in match-making?"
 
"What's match-makin'?" asked the child, with wondering eyes.
 
 
"Oh, you seem to understand the subject very well. The idea of a child planning a marriage between a man and a woman—quite suited to each other though they certainly are—who never met until this week!"
 
"Who do you mean? Aunt Fee and ? Why, they've——"
 
"No, no—I don't mean them. This is another couple—a lady and an army officer."
 
"Oh, you mean Mr. Jermyn and Miss Trewman? Why, I don' remember tellin' mamma to write anythin' about them. Come to t............