"You can't prevent me, at least," the Admiral replied, "so I shall beg Mrs. Highwood to re-write the letter at once. If Jermyn chooses to throw away fifty thousand dollars—oh, Miss Trewman, you have more influence over him than any one else; do reason with him. Better still, command him. Don't let him throw good money to the dogs."
"What dogs? Who's throwin' money to 'em?" drawled Trixy, who had begun to fall asleep.
"Mr. Jermyn, my dear, is doing it," said Phil, "and all because your own father stupidly lost a couple of pictures."
"Gracious!" exclaimed the child, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
"What shall I do, my dear?" asked Jermyn, as Kate turned an anxious face toward him. "The money, should I get it, will be practically yours; that is, it will enable me to support my wife far better than my unaided salary will."
The Admiral, Fenie and Harry looked intently at Kate. Trif, at a table in the sitting room, had been writing rapidly with her husband looking over her shoulder. When she had finished Phil took the pen and did something to the letter, at which Trif nodded approvingly and then slyly drew Phil's face down to her and kissed it. Then she tore the two leaves of the sheet apart, and gave one to each of the despoiled men, saying,
"Admiral, this is the portion which you used. Jermyn, this is yours. Kate, have you brought him to his senses?"
"Shall I?" asked Jermyn.
"Yes," said Kate, "if you think it right."
"But I don't."