How dreadfully she was neglecting Trixy, too! She had promised to watch the child carefully, yet Trixy ran at will upon the beach, and buried herself in sand, and several times a day she ventured close enough to the water to wet her feet, and Fenie was always going to keep her from doing so again, but Trif was the only one who did it. Fenie told herself that she was becoming a dreadfully selfish girl, but really she never seemed to find time to do anything that ought to be done. Trixy did such dreadful things, too. She had learned the names of all the colored men who brought sail-boats to the hotel pier when the water was smooth and the breeze gentle. She seemed fascinated by the picturesque raggedness of the few colored people who lounged in the single street of the little village. She had no hesitation about introducing herself to any one who spoke to Trif or Fenie, she talked almost as much as if she were at home; and what mightn't she say if the impulse came to her? Trif was begged to caution the child, that there was nothing to tell; then to make assurance doubly sure, Fenie herself cautioned her. "I don't tell nobody nothin', Aunt Fee," protested Trixy. "Really and truly, I don't. I only told Lieutenant Jermyn and a lot of them that you was awful sick, and that was why we came down here." "I sick? You dreadful child! Don't you know that it was on account of your own bad health that we came?" "Oh, Aunt Fee! You're awful mistaken--indeed you are. You must have got us mixed up some way, 'cause papa and mamma said 'twas you that was sick. I just came along to take care of you, and I've been doin' it with all my might." "Indeed! And what was the matter with me, I wonder?" "Why--y--y!" exclaimed the child, opening her eyes very wide. "Do you forget things as easy as that? Mamma said you'd go crazy if you didn't stop thinkin' about Harry Trewman, and papa said the best medicine for you would be a trip off to somewhere--the best, except one thing." "Except what thing?" "Oh, nothin'." "Don't say that. Tell me the truth at once." "I can't, else I'll spoil a s'prise." "What surprise?" "I mustn't tell, else there won't be no s'prise." "Oh, Trixy! Surprises are such stupid things! People usually find out all about them before they occur." "Nobody'll find out this one, I guess, unless Harry--say, Aunt Fee, whereabouts is the post-office here?" "All letters come to the hotel. What were you going to say about Harry? Harry who?" "Why, don't you know? Then I can't tell, 'cause that's part of the s'prise." "Trixy, tell me this instant!" Trixy looked troubled for a moment; then she dashed out of the room, and Fenie, who had been dressing while she talked, could not follow. Trixy found her mother, who handed her a letter of such size that the retired Admiral, who was chatting with Trif, remarked: "How large a letter for so small a lady to receive. I hope, Miss Trixy, that you haven't a love affair on your mind?"