"Trif," exclaimed Fenie, "I do believe the child has lost her senses."
"Oh, no I haven't, but—Dolls! Dolls! Dolls!"
"Trixy,—"
"Fenie, do be quiet," exclaimed Trif. "Trixy, run down to the table and tell our waiter we will be there very soon, so he may have the oysters ready for us. Hurry, dear."
No sooner was Trixy out of the room than Trif said:
"Fenie, you silly girl, can't you ever see anything? I suspected it last night, but now I am sure of it."
"Sure of what?"
"Why, that Kate and Jermyn are at an understanding—or sure to be. I saw when Kate rejoined us last night that something unusual had happened, and that it was not unpleasant. She acted just as I—as I felt when Phil——"
"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Fenie, going quickly into some day-dreams of her own, for she and Harry were getting along capitally together. They were not engaged, but there could be no mistake as to what the dear fellow meant, and what she wanted him to mean. She did not speak another word while preparing for breakfast, for she wouldn't for worlds have told what was in her mind—not even to her sister—yet she feared she would tell it if she spoke at all. But wasn't it delightful? She would marry Harry, in the course of time, and Kate would marry Jermyn. She wondered which couple would be first at the altar. What a delightful party of friends they would be, the two couples, with Trif and Phil!
The girl's reverie was so delightful that even breakfast did not destroy it, although she had the healthy appetite to which young women have an inherent right. She took the customary morning walk along the beach with Trif and Trixy, but there was an expectant look in her eye which Trif told herself would delight Harry when he saw it. Trixy tried to talk with her, but got such vague replies that she gave up in despair and began to throw pebbles. Finally the sisters seated themselves on the piazza, and Trif began to wish she knew all that she suspected, for she longed to write her husband all about it. There was no sentimental nonsense in her mind about the handsome soldier who had once hoped for her heart and hand; but what good woman does not rejoice to see an honest admirer happily married—after she herself had married happily?