"Poor, dear little girl," said Trif caressingly. "Grown people sometimes have 'dont's,' and have a lot of trouble with them, too."
"Is that so?" the child asked. "Do you ever have to put cotton in your ears, or bite your tongue?"
"You afflicted darling," exclaimed Trif, her maternal instinct fully aroused. Was her precious darling to be physically afflicted through affairs in which she had no part?—suffer for other people's affairs, for which she was not in any way responsible? No, indeed. She would give Fenie a lecture, and at once, which would do that young woman much good and save an innocent little girl from further torment. Fenie should learn to hold her own tongue; it was she who did most of the talking which poor little Trixy was obliged to hear—how could the child help hearing it? Sisterly affection was quite right; Trif had long tried to be sister and mother too to her pretty, darling sister, but should a child suffer for an adult,—the weak for the strong? Not while the weak, the child, was Trif's own, only daughter. Trixy should have no more trouble about the affairs of other people.
Full of this determination, Trif returned to the shop with an air so resolute and aggressive that the clerks shrank in terror and wondered what complaint was about to be made. She strode like a pictured goddess to where Fenie was idly wondering which of two patterns of insertion to buy; she turned her sister toward her and exclaimed, softly yet tragically:
"Tryphena, I must ask you to keep your affairs to yourself hereafter, except at such times as you and I are alone together. This poor child mustn't be tormented with them any longer. She——"
"Yes," said Trixy, "I've got to bite my tongue a lot more now, 'cause I just saw—oh, mamma, please don't pinch me so hard!"
"What did you see, Trixy?" asked Fenie.
"That piece of insertion you have in your hand—" said Trif quickly. "Trixy, dear, go back to the door, if you like—that piece of insertion, as I was saying, is just what I would get if I were you, for—" and the remaining conversation was closely restricted to garments, although Fenie looked somewhat indignant and curious.
The evening chanced to be one of the most delightful that had ever blessed Old Point. The sky was clear, the air warm yet invigorating; the music was of the best, the guests were in the best of humor with one another, and everything went as merrily as the traditional marriage bell.