A SURPRISE.
"HERE'S a letter for you, Harry," said Kate Trewman one morning as her
brother came to the breakfast table, "and from the penmanship of the
address I should imagine it to be from a washerwoman or a newsboy."
Harry looked solemnly at the address--he had looked solemnly at
everything for several days, but when he saw the signature he started,
a motion which did not escape the observant eye of his sister, who
exclaimed:
"Do tell me what has happened! You look like an actor in a play with a
great letter-scene in it."
Harry did not reply, for he was trying to read the letter, the writer
of which could read, he knew, but seemed not to have learned to write,
or even to spell, for the letter ran as follows:
"Dere Mister Trumen: I wunt to git yure pikcher an if yu giv it tu me
yu needunt giv me that dolle tho I want the dolle lots an them yure
sistur wus goin to gimme. Plese send me the pikcher rite away cause
I'm goin a travelen. Youres trule
TRIXY HIGHWOOD."
"Do tell me what it is!" exclaimed Kate.
"'Tis a dead secret--or a mystery," Harry replied, with an
absent-minded manner and a far-away look. Then he re-read the letter
and laughed, at which Kate said:
"Thank goodness! Evidently it isn't a tragedy!"
"No, although there may be some elements of a drama in it."
"Do let me see the letter."
"Not now, dear girl. It is on a matter which I think should be regarded
as strictly confidential."
Nevertheless Kate saw the letter before the day was done, and she did a
lot of thinking about it. Then she drew her brother into the parlor and
said abruptly:
"I've thought it all out. Fenie Wardlow hasn't a picture of you, has
she?"
"Kate!" exclaimed Harry severely. "Do you imagine me to be conceited
enough to present my portrait to young women in general?"
"Tut, tut! You know very well that Fenie Wardlow isn't classed in your
mind among young women in general. She's the one and particular woman
of all the world, to you. Answer my question; has she your picture?"
"No. Now are you satisfied?"
"Not entirely. Still, I'm sure she wants it. That child never wrote you
of her own accord, to ask for your picture."
"Kate! Will you kindly remember that Miss Wardlow is a lady? I'm
surprised that you should make such an insinuation."
"I've insinuated nothing, but there is something behind Trixy's letter.
She's a very longheaded child, and the family adores her, and she is
always with Trif and Fenie, and hears everything they say, so----"
"Do you really think that Miss Wardlow herself wanted a picture of me?"
interrupted Harry.
"That is exactly what I do think. Oh, Harry! I didn't suppose a man
could blush so splendidly! There, there--don't be ashamed of it; 'tis
wonderfully becoming, and----"
Kate was an affectionate sister, so she stopped long enough to throw
her arms about her brother and kiss him soundly. Then she continued:
"Send a picture to the child at once--and do send that doll also. I'd
send with it the lot that I promised, if I wasn't afraid that the
family would ask questions, and I would be dreadfully mortified if they
were to learn that I questioned Trixy closely on a certain subject
several days ago. I wish I knew what the child means by saying that
she's going travelling. I wonder if--oh, well, I'll make some calls
elsewhere, and find out all about it."
Meanwhile Trif, Trixy and Fenie were postponing their further
journeying southward. Old Point Comfort is a hard place to leave; one
finds old friends, learns that new ones are coming; so the days slip
by delightfully. The air seemed to be doing wonders for both Fenie and
Trixy, and Trif was enjoying herself as a clever young woman always
can where good company abounds, and she can give her entire time to
it. Besides, Lieutenant Jermyn assured her that the season was so far
advanced that she would find Florida uncomfortably hot.
Jermyn had also put Trif entirely at ease by not showing a bit of
sentimentality over the woman he had loved and lost. He was so entirely
himself in her presence that she imagined him happily married, although
she did not like to question him on the subject. He was quite attentive
to Fenie, too, and made haste to introduce several brother officers,
who made themselves interesting, so Fenie seldom was without the
attendance of some man in uniform. Her admirers were not all young,
either, for admiration of womanhood appears to be one of the original
elements of the military nature, so several elderly officers frequently
sought the society of Fenie and her sister, and as Fenie was the
younger, and unmarried, she innocently took all the admiration to
herself. Finally, when a retired admiral, himself as young at heart and
engaging in conversation as any of his juniors, paid special attention
to Fenie, that young woman became so exuberant of cheerfulness that she
read herself a severe lecture, almost at midnight, when there was no
one else for her to talk to.
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?"
"No, indeed, sir. Other folk's love affairs are enough for me to attend
to." Then the child slipped away, while Trif continued to wonder from
whom had come the letter which Phil had forwarded, and which appeared
to contain a large photograph.
Trixy retired to the hotel, opened her letter, and found, as she had
expected, a picture of Harry Trewman. There was some writing on the
back of the card, and Trixy wished she knew what it was, but all
chirography was as undecipherable to her as Hebrew; her own letters
were written in imitation of print. She roamed about the corridors in
search of some acquaintance whose education was broader than her own,
and finally she chanced upon Lieutenant Jermyn, who had been visiting
an invalid friend.
"Say, Mr. Jermyn, you can read writin', can't you?"
"Sometimes, Trixy, sometimes."
"Then won't you tell me what's on the back of this picture?"
Jermyn read aloud: "My dear little girl, I am very fond of you, and I
shall be glad to have you carry my picture on your journey with you,
so that I may be brought to your mind once in awhile. Yours sincerely,
HARRY TREWMAN."
"Oh, I'm so glad he sent it!" exclaimed Trixy. Jermyn smiled and
replied:
"Upon my word, Miss Trixy, you're beginning quite early to be
interested in young men."
"You're the second person who's made that mistake," Trixy replied. "The
picture isn't for me; it's for Aunt Fee."
"Indeed!" Jermyn looked grave a moment or two before he continued,
"Wouldn't it be better, then, for you not to show it to people in
general?"
"Oh, I'm not going to. I only wanted to know what the writin' was
about."
"Suppose you put it into the envelope," suggested Jermyn, "and take it
to your aunt's room."
"Just what I was goin' to do," said Trixy. "Isn't it funny that both of
us thought of the same thing?"
Jermyn admitted that it was, although he was oppressively silent as he
walked through the hall--he who had always told Trixy some funny story
when he met her.
Fenie had learned to like Jermyn greatly during their short
acquaintance, but on the evening that followed the picture incident he
surpassed himself in deference, humor and brilliancy. Fenie did not
wonder that Trif had always remembered him pleasantly. She did wish he
was not quite so old; a man of thirty-five seems dreadfully ancient
to a girl of twenty. Still, soldiers were splendid anyway. Of course,
he did not care particularly for her, for he had never seen her until
that week, but there was something in his voice and manner on this
particular evening that affected her strangely. Could it be that he was
falling in love with her? If so, she--she really ought to feel sorry.
But was she? She could scarcely believe so; she would examine her mind
seriously when the evening ended; perhaps she would speak to Trif about
it. There was nothing between her and Harry Trewman--she could honestly
say that, and perhaps--perhaps she had acted very foolishly about that
young man. Harry was a fine fellow, as young men go, but how plain he
appeared, to her mind's eye, beside the handsome soldier who scarcely
left her side that evening!
By the time the evening ended the young woman had a head full of
pleasing fancies marred only by a weak compunction of conscience. She
sat in Trif's room a few minutes, chatting with her sister about people
whom they had met during the day, and admiring Trixy, who was always a
charming picture when asleep. Then she passed into her own room; in a
moment Trif heard a sharp exclamation, and Fenie stood in the doorway
between the rooms, gasping:
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Of what? Oh, my sister, you're looking like a ghost!"
"I feel as if I had seen one. Why did you do it? What have I done
to----"
"Tryphena Wardlow, what are you talking about?" asked Trif, approaching
the girl. "Do say something intelligible, if you can, and stop acting."
For answer, Fenie took her sister's hand and led the way to the mirror,
between the glass and frame of which was a photograph of Harry Trewman.
"In the name of all that's mysterious," exclaimed Trif, "where did it
come from?"
"Where, indeed! Didn't you place it there, to--to----"
"I give you my word that I never saw it, or knew of its existence,
until this instant."
"Oh, this is dreadful," exclaimed Fenie, sinking into a chair. "There's
some mystery about it. Who can be here who knows anything about--about
what had happened? Who has been able to get into our room without our
knowledge? I shan't dare to fall asleep. I shan't----"
"Do stop being dramatic, Fee, and try to be sensible. The picture
didn't sneak in through the keyhole, nor did invisible hands bring it,
although I confess that for the moment I'm mystified. Oh, I have it!
Mark my words, Trixy knows something about that picture."
In an instant Fenie was in the adjoining room and shaking Trixy. The
child was sleeping as soundly as ocean air and the lullaby of gentle
surf can make children sleep, but Fenie persevered.
"Picture?--in your lookin' glass?" the child drawled. "Oh, yes; I put
it there. That was the s'prise--that I wouldn't--tell you all about.
Did it s'prise you--lots?"
"Yes--yes. But how did you get it?"
Trixy was falling asleep again, and her mother insisted that further
explanation should be deferred until morning. As Fenie took the picture
from the mirror she saw the inscription and read it. Then Bruce Jermyn
went out of her mind and a joyous feeling took his place.