Then Kate lifted Trixy, embraced her, kissed her, and called her the dearest little girl on the face of the earth, after which, greatly to the child's astonishment, she hurried Trixy to her mother and excused herself, saying that she had suddenly found the night air much damper than she had supposed.
No sooner did Jermyn leave Kate's side than he went to the ball-room, the office, and about the piazzas, asking every acquaintance whether Prewser had been seen in the course of the evening. Finally he found his comrade and a reproachful face in Prewser's own quarters, and after some sharp questioning he promised to help the young man at ballistics and anything else so long as he lived. Prewser asked if congratulations were in order, and Jermyn frowned and said "Nonsense," but he afterwards whistled merrily and Prewser began to nurse some suspicions.
"Trixy, dear," said Fenie the next morning, while preparing for breakfast, "if I were you I wouldn't follow a lady and gentleman while they are promenading in the evening. It isn't ladylike. I am sure that your mamma will tell you that I am right."
Trif looked amusedly at her sister and said, "One word for others and two for yourself," but she added her own cautions to Fenie's, and said she ought to have called Trixy away from Kate and Jermyn the evening before.
"Why, I only—" began Trixy. Then she stopped and exclaimed "Dolls."
"What have dolls to do with it?" asked Fenie.
"Lots—just lots. I'm going to have 'em if I don't—oh, I nearly told."
"Told what?"
"Why, that—oh, Dolls! Dolls! Dolls! There."