"Trixy!" exclaimed Trif in her most severe tone, while Phil put another section of orange into the child's mouth and his hand over her lips, while Trif continued: "Go along, Fenie. Change your dress quickly; I'll run up stairs and help you." "And I," said Trixy, after a struggle with the orange and her father's hand, "I'll entertain Mr. Trewman till you come down." Three adult smiles were slyly exchanged as the child assumed an air of importance, tumbled out of her high-chair and started toward the parlor, while her mother and aunt slipped up the back stairway and Phil buried his face in the evening paper. "Good evenin', Harry," said the little maid, as she bounced into the parlor. "Oh, Trixy!" exclaimed the young man rising in haste. "How do you do, little girl? I'm very much obliged to you for calling me Harry. It sounds as if you rather liked me." "So I do," replied Trixy. "I s'pose I ought to have said 'Mr. Trewman,' but papa and mamma and Aunt Fee always calls you 'Harry' when they talk about you, so I said it without thinkin'." "Oh, they do, eh?" Mr. Trewman's clear complexion flushed pleasurably and his moustache was twirled thoughtfully. If the family talked of him familiarly, there seemed special reason for him to hope. "Yes, they do it lots. I get sick of it sometimes, 'cause I want to ask 'em somethin', and mamma says I mustn't ever interrupt grown people when they're talkin', so I can't ask it, and afterward maybe I forget what I was going to ask, and that bothers me like ev'rythin'." "You poor little sufferer!" exclaimed the young man. "I ought to do something very nice for you, to make amends for causing you so much trouble. What kind of candy do you most like?--or mayn't I bring you a new doll?" "Papa and mamma don't like me to eat candy," said Trixy with a sigh. "They say it's bad for my 'gestion. Have you got a 'gestion?" The young man admitted that he had, but he hastily reverted to dolls as a more appropriate topic of conversation. Trixy looked troubled and finally said: "Oh, dear! Something always goes wrong. I need a new baby doll awfully, for the kitten bit the head off of my littlest one, but, you see, papa and mamma says it isn't proper for young ladies to accept presents from gentlemen." "Oh, I see--I beg a thousand pardons," Trewman gravely replied. "But would you object to my asking your parents' permission to give you a new doll--the finest one that I can find?" "Do it--quick!" exclaimed Trixy, her eyes dancing and her hands clapping gleefully. "I don't think, though," she continued, after a moment or two of thought, "that I ought to take somethin' for nothin', for papa says that folks who do that are real mean." "Something for nothing? Why, you dear little bundle of conscience, I'm to give you the doll in part payment for the trouble I have given you. Don't you remember?" "Oh, yes! To--be--sure. Well, I forget my troubles as soon as I tell 'm, so--so you don't owe me anything."