Trif and Trixy. Habberton John

as you think is keeping him away at present? I suppose he may be feeling dismal, poor fellow, but at the same time he's learning how much he cares for Fenie, which isn't a bad sort of knowledge for a young man to have. As to Fenie——"

      "Sh—h—! I didn't mean to tell you about her, for the secret is hers, not mine, and——"

      "But you couldn't keep anything from your husband, oh? Well, this heart is a safe place to come to with confidences."

      "Phil, dear. Do be serious a moment!"

      "I never was more serious in my life, my dear. Haven't I just ruined the last nap to which I was entitled? As to the young people, we'll have Harry and his sister to dinner as soon as you like. The sister will come, because she likes your dinners, your sister and you; Harry will come rather than explain to his sister. He and Fenie will feel so uncomfortable at first that they will be unusually affable to each other, and within half an hour they will be far better friends than ever before. Don't you see?"

      "Upon my word," exclaimed Trif, with an impulsive kiss, "you're a born match-maker."

      "Pshaw," exclaimed Phil, pretending not to be delighted with the compliment, "I'm merely a common-sense judge of human nature. If you'll only keep your irrepressible baby from hearing things in the meantime, and saying them to the wrong people, everything will go well."

      "I'm sure I can't imagine how she can make any trouble. I'm sure that Fenie has given her cautions enough during the last week, to make the child afraid to say a word about anything to anyone who shouldn't hear it. At least once an hour, all day long, it has been 'Trixy, don't'—and 'Trixy, don't'—and——"

      "Don't what, mamma?" drawled a gentle voice from a crib near the bed.

      "Nothing, dear. Go to sleep again." The remaining conversation between husband and wife was conducted in soft whispers.

      Several hours later Harry Trewman's sister Kate dropped in, "just for a moment." Kate was a wide-awake young woman, several years Fenie's senior. She had seen that something was troubling her brother, and it took very little time for her to determine that Fenie was the something. In Kate's opinion Harry, although little more than a year younger than she, was a mere boy who needed sisterly management, and Kate was not the woman to shirk any family duty.

      Trif and Fenie chanced to be out shopping, and Kate was departing when Trixy came through the hall with some doll's garments which had just been laundered. Each looked at the other inquiringly, and Trixy said:

      "Did you bring it?"

      "Bring what, Trixy?"

      "Why, the doll your brother Harry promised me. I thought maybe he sent it by you, seeing he doesn't come here any more."

      "Doesn't come here any more?"

      "No. Didn't he tell you?"

      Kate hesitated a moment before answering. To extract information from a child or a servant seemed to her a very mean act—when other women did it. On the other hand, she owed loyal service to her brother, who was utterly incapable of managing his own affairs, so far as young women were concerned. Besides, Kate was sure that she was simply dying of curiosity, so she choked her sense of propriety and replied:

      "I don't know until you make me fully understand what you are talking about."

      "Why," said Trixy, opening her eyes very wide, "he learned a lesson here, and I taught it to him, though Aunt Fee said his sisters ought to have done it. 'Twas that young men oughtn't to go calling stormy evenings when young ladies don't expect company and put on their nicest dresses. He was going to give me a doll for teachin' him the lesson, but he hasn't sent it yet, and I've been hopin' for it ev'ry day, and thinkin' he'd bring it, but Aunt Fee says he won't come here any more, and she cried a whole lot about it the other day, and——. Why, don't you know it ain't polite to go away while somebody's talking to you? I'm 'stonished."

      Kate had moved abruptly toward the door; she had learned all she wanted to know, and she was feeling very uncomfortable with the information which followed, so she said:

      "Excuse me, Trixy, but I'm afraid you're telling me more than you should. Little girls shouldn't repeat all they hear; haven't your parents ever told you so?"

      "Oh, yes," assented Trixy cheerfully; "they was dreadfully worried for fear I'd say something to the wrong people. The idea of it!" Trixy found the idea so funny that she laughed heartily; Kate at the same time wished she had not entered the house. She thought rapidly and said:

      "Trixy dear, let's have a nice little secret between you and me. Don't say anything to anyone about our chat this morning, or that I've been here, until I say you may, and I will give you two dolls—half a dozen dolls, if you like, and then we'll both together tell the whole story to your mama and your Aunt Fenie, and have a great joke about it."

      "Oh, good, good, good!" exclaimed Trixy, trying to climb up to Kate's face to kiss it, for Trixy was a grateful little thing, and dearly loved a joke and a secret, probably because she couldn't possibly keep either of them. She bestowed her kiss, with several others to keep it company, and Miss Trewman left the house just in time to meet Trif and Fenie about a hundred steps away. She passed them briskly, although with a cheery "Good morning," but in a moment she asked herself:

      "I wonder if they'll suspect? Thank goodness, I didn't leave my card."

      "Oh, Trif!" said Fenie. "She looked as if she had been at our house. I do hope she didn't meet Trixy."

      "Fenie!" exclaimed Trif indignantly, although she had been impressed by the same hope, or fear, "don't act like an insane person. The entire world doesn't revolve about you and Harry Trewman."

      Fenie was suppressed for the moment, but when she entered the house and saw Trixy capering ecstatically through the parlor, and singing shrilly:

      Half a dozen dolls; Half a dozen dolls; Half a dozen, Half a dozen, Half a dozen dolls.

      she exclaimed:

      "Trixy, has any one been here?"

      "I can't tell you, 'cause it's a secret. Say, Aunt Fee, ain't the Trewmans awful rich? I should think they must be, if one of them can give away six dolls at a time."

      "Oh, Trif!" exclaimed Fenie, posing like a tragedy queen, "'twas just as I feared."

      "Trixy," said Trif gently as she seated herself and drew the child to her side, "when Miss Trewman was here, did——"

      "Why, has she let out the secret already? Dear me! Some grown folks are leaky, as well as little girls, aren't they?"

      "She told me nothing," replied Trif, "so I want you to tell me what you said to her."

      "But, mamma dear, I can't, 'cause it's a secret and both of us are to tell it to you together."

      "When?" asked Fenie in a tone that made the child tremble as she replied:

      "I don't know, but I hope awful soon, 'cause then she's goin' to give me—oh, I almost told."

      "Almost told what?" Fenie demanded. "Don't you know that little girls have no right to keep things secret from their mothers?"

      Trixy looked up pitifully. Fenie's face, which as long as Trixy could remember, had been full of smiles and dimples, was now stern and commanding. Trixy's eyes filled with tears, but Fenie's face remained stern and unrelenting.

      "You don't want me to tell lies, I hope, and be burned a whole lot after I die?" sobbed the child.

      "I'd almost rather you'd tell lies than repeat some things which you think are true."

      "Fenie!" exclaimed Trif. Then it was Fenie's turn to cry. Trif banished her with a look, and then began to question the child; but just outside the door stood a young woman with the air of a person determined to hear whatever was said, no matter how true might be the old saying that listeners never hear any good of themselves.

      "You may keep your secret, dear, or what is left of it," said Trif, taking Trixy upon her knee. "Mamma knows that Miss Trewman was here, but