The maid preceded them into the drawing-room, crying,—
"Oh, docther, docther, Master Philip is drownded, and the Gineral's boy pulled him out alive!"
Then there was a great flurry! Grandmamma Brentwood tried to faint and the General, who was making an afternoon call, supplied her with water, and a bouquet of roses, from a handy vase! The water and indignation brought the old lady out of her swoon, and just then Philip and May and Rob, all dripping like half-wrung clothes, came in, followed by faithful Phyllis.
"Grandpapa!" said Philip, and oh, how hard the words came! "when I was drowning—I threw the matches in the hay. I didn't really mean to do it—I was ashamed when I was being pulled ashore—that tobacco and stuff was mine—and—Gay told the truth and I—didn't!"
This was incoherent, but everybody understood it. The General opened his arms to May, then and there, and she nestled within them and nobody as much as thought of the damage her water-soaked clothing might do to the General's "old-school" finery. Doctor and Mrs. Brentwood looked sadly at their shame-faced grandchild. As for Phyllis, it was the happiest moment of her life—not only was her pet completely vindicated, but now she could prove to her mistress that her reasoning powers had not been injured by excess of romance reading.
The doctor was ashamed of the part his belief in Philip had caused him to play. "Gay," said he, "why didn't you tell in the first place that Philip set the hay afire?"
"I thought Philip would tell," May replied. "And he has told and that is all there is about it." May glanced at Philip with a forgiving smile, and he smiled in return, with full appreciation of her magnanimity.
"No, that is not all," said the doctor, sternly. "You shall say what punishment shall be Philip's."
"Punishment!" echoed May in astonishment. "I should think he'd had enough already! with doing what he was ashamed of, and half drowning besides."