"Oh, bother Harry Trewman," exclaimed Fenie; but there was a look in her face which compelled Phil to glance slyly at his wife, and Trif to respond with a merry twinkle of her eyes.
[CHAPTER II.]
A TRANSACTION IN COTTON.
THE week that followed the Trixy-Trewman incident was a trying one to Trif. Her sister Fenie, although an intelligent and well-educated young woman who could talk well on many subjects, and whose interests were generally as broad as those of a clever young woman should be, would converse about nothing but the dreadful position in which Trixy had placed her toward a young man whom she cared no more for than for old Father Adam—indeed, not as much, for Adam was regarded by all good people of New England extraction as a member of the family, although somewhat remotely removed.
As for Trif, she had no patience with a girl who did not know her own mind. When she had first met Phil Highwood, nearly ten years before, she knew at once what to think of him, and she had never changed her mind. Neither had she thought it necessary to talk of him to the exclusion of everything and everybody else—not at least until she had been married to him and before Trixy made her appearance as the eighth wonder of the world and the most important creature ever born.
It would never do, she argued, to betray her feelings to and about her sister, for she had determined to have Harry Trewman for a brother-in-law, and her husband loyally supported her in her decision. But what was to be done?
Upon one thing she and her sister were resolved, and one morning after breakfast the couple called upon Phil to witness their resolution, which was that they would never again say in Trixy's hearing anything which could make mischief by being repeated. Phil listened with a smile so provoking that Fenie called him perfectly horrid, while Trif playfully but vigorously boxed his ears.
"Oh, you'll keep that resolution," Phil admitted. "I've no doubt whatever that both of you will live up to it—while the dear child is asleep, but if either of you blessed women think that you're going to leave anything unsaid that you want to say while you're together you're dangerously mistaken. You've been sisters and chums too long to hold your tongues at home."
"I flatter myself," said Trif loftily, while Fenie pouted exuberantly, "that we have sense enough to make each other understand what we have to say, and at the same time keep the child from knowing what we are talking about."