Trif and Trixy: A story of a dreadfully delightful little girl and her adoring and tormented parents, relations, and friendsHabberton, John
General
Trif and Trixy: A story of a dreadfully delightful little girl and her adoring and tormented parents, relations, and friends
Habberton, John
Girls -- Fiction
"She doesn't mean the letter?" whispered Jermyn.
"Alas, no!" sighed Trif. "How I wish it might be!"
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THAT SURPRISE.
The dinner was all that Trif had promised, and the guests were in high
spirits, although some of them had believed in advance that it would
be almost like a funeral feast, for were there not two blocks of stock
which would not go out of the minds of at least two of the party?
Good manners prevented any show of sadness, and good company soon
did the rest. There was an abundance of merry chat, and the host and
hostess, with Harry and Fenie, encouraged the Admiral and Jermyn to
tell stories of field and flood, of which civilians seem never to tire,
so it was not until late in the evening that the party arose from the
table. Then the ladies were begged for music, and the officers were
coaxed to sing, and time flew so rapidly that it was almost midnight
when the guests said they must take their leave, and Trif murmured that
Trixy ought to have been put to bed hours before, but the dear child
had been so quiet that her mother had scarcely known she was present.
"I dislike to bring up unpleasant subjects on such an occasion,"
said Phil, "but before we separate I must express my great sorrow
and mortification at the loss of those pictures. I never before had
so serious an accident, and I wish it were in my power to make some
reparation."
"There is one way in which you can do it, my dear sir," replied the
Admiral.
"What? Do name it and it shall be done."
"It is merely this. Kindly persuade your wife to re-write, from memory,
and on the same kind of paper, if possible, the letter which, through
my stupidity, has caused all the trouble. Have her write it with the
same kind of ink; then give the letter to me!"
"I'll do it at once," said Trif.
"And you'll show me the letter?" added Kate.
"Not for worlds!" answered Trif, with a laugh and a blush that made
Kate still more curious.
"What then?" asked Phil.
"Then," said the Admiral, firmly, "I shall duplicate my pencil sketch
upon the back of it; Jermyn shall duplicate his on the back of the
written page, and I shall file both as vouchers."
"A most brilliant plan!" exclaimed Phil. "Eh, Jermyn?"
"Brilliant enough," was the reply, "but I don't entirely like it. My
friend, the Admiral, is the most honest man alive, yet to me the plan
seems very like forgery."
"Oh, not at all!" said Phil. "A man can't forge his own writing or
drawing. Besides, there's no question of morals involved. The company
is willing to give the stock, in payment for services rendered, the
services made by you gentlemen, showing how to get water to property
which would be worthless without it. No other man, should he find the
originals, can possibly present them or use them in any way, for he
would not know what they signified, nor could he find any one but the
existing company who could apply them to the property in question.
Neither of you have talked of the matter elsewhere?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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