"Hello!"
It was Trixy who spoke, from not three feet away, but Kate pretended not to hear; she preferred the companionship of her own thoughts, although everything definite had escaped from them. The next sound she heard caused her to rise hastily on one elbow, for it seemed that there was a noise in the sand unlike that made by Trixy's shovel.
"Hello, Mr. Jermyn. Don't you know Miss Trewman? She's one of mamma's and Aunt Fee's friends."
"Don't arise, please," said Jermyn with a bow while Kate looked uncomfortable. "I'm glad to see that Trixy isn't the only visitor who has learned which is the most delightful hour of the day down here."
Kate persisted in arising, and Jermyn made haste to bring her a chair; then he talked well-digging in a matter-of-fact way with Trixy, and smiled, with Kate, at some of the child's replies, and so succeeded quickly in dispelling Kate's sense of embarrassment. Still more, wasn't he the very officer Kate had most noticed during her several minutes' survey the night before?
"You ought to like him lots, Miss Trewman," said Trixy suddenly, with the air of having recalled something from the limbo of forgetfulness, "'cause he likes Aunt Fee lots."
"And Aunt Fee's sister, too," added Jermyn, without change of countenance. "I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Highwood frequently, some years ago, when my battery was stationed at New York."
"How pleasant," said Kate, although she did not mean it. Again she wondered whether there might not have been deep purpose in that Florida trip which seemed to have ended at Fort Monroe. Something ought to be done, and at once, if it were not already too late. What should it be? Thinking was not easy, under the circumstances, for Jermyn was talking to her—not persistently, or as a man who was trying to flirt; and she liked his looks so much that she did not want to appear inattentive, although, really, didn't it seem utterly dreadful to be chatting before seven in the morning with a man who had been introduced only by a little girl?