"Let us escape from it," suggested Jermyn, "and join Mrs. Highwood and her sister. Probably they are on the piazza, for I saw Trixy disappear in that direction." No one who hasn't tried it knows how hard it is to find any one on a crowded piazza a quarter of a mile long, and after sunset too. Success is still more difficult when the searchers have something else to concern their minds and eyes. Jermyn and Kate were clever talkers, and neither of them had often found company so agreeable, so they passed and repassed Trif and Fenie several times without seeing them, and Trif smiled archly, and Fenie gave her a warning pinch, for Harry was with them. Harry himself was no fool, and as the ladies themselves suddenly lapsed into comparative silence he remembered that his sister frequently reminded him that ladies had affairs of their own to talk about, so he insisted upon getting lemonade for them, and the journey from the piazza to the cafe was quite long, so there was much time for chat before his return, and every moment of it was improved, while Trixy, seated on a low stool, with her head in her mother's lap, seemed slumbering as peacefully as if in her bed, and the physician at the hotel had assured Trif that the salt air at night was not in the least unwholesome, but quite the reverse. When Harry returned, followed by a waiter with a tray, and it was learned that he had not forgotten the smallest member of the party, Trixy awoke opportunely, and felt so refreshed that she had to relieve herself of superabundant vitality by tripping to and fro on the broad walk at the edge of the beach, with several children with whom she had become acquainted. They were having a glorious time when Trixy suddenly espied Kate and Jermyn; then she lost interest in her companions and began to stare. The objects of her attention did not notice her; they would not have been conscious of the presence of the President of the United States, had that distinguished person passed them in the full glare of the occasional lamps. They were not talking love, nor anything remotely resembling it, but they were entirely absorbed in each other, which answered the same purpose. Jermyn had promised a brother subaltern, only two or three days before, some coaching in the mysteries of ballistics, and for this very evening, but he forgot all about it, and the subaltern, who looked anxiously about for Jermyn and finally found him, saw for himself that his chances were very slight, so he sat down at the edge of the promenade and engaged Trixy in conversation. The child soon remarked: "You don't think they're a couple of fools, do you?" "They? Who?" asked the officer. "Why, Lieutenant Jermyn and Miss Trewman." "Certainly not! What an odd question! If you were a few years older, young lady, you yourself would think them eminently sensible."