Sarah Ann opened her mouth a little wider.
"What is a serving-table, Alvin?"
"A serving-table is a—it is—a—a table," explained Alvin. "You serve on it."
"Oh, of course," said Sarah Ann, without understanding in the least. "I am astonished, Alvin!"
"We are just going to furnish two bedrooms now. When we have a servant, then it will be time enough to furnish the other room."
Sarah Ann's eyelids fluttered up and down.
"A servant! Ach, Alvin, I hope you are not going to marry a sick one!"
"Of course not," protested Alvin. "Of course not, Sarah Ann!" Alvin's chest expanded, he breathed deeply. "Ladies in the city do not do their own work, Sarah Ann!"
"Ladies!" repeated Sarah Ann. Here was the capstone of Alvin's grandeur. A lady was to Millerstown almost a mythical creature. "Are you, then, marrying a lady, Alvin?"
"To be sure," answered Alvin. "She never yet had to work in a kitchen. She is in the store just because she likes it. Her pop is rich."