"Certainly," Sarah replied. "There is room enough for a dozen, and it will brighten up this dull old house a bit." She turned to the General and demanded, defiantly, "Did you ever hear me say I didn't like children?"
"I don't know that I ever did," replied the General, meekly.
"Well!" said Sarah.
And that ended their conversation.
When May came home late in the afternoon, the General, Sarah and Phyllis were on the porch.
"How is Philip?" asked the General.
"Lots and lots better," said May. "I played checkers and read and sung and told stories about our children at home, and made him forget his cold—and what he did. Philip is all right, I think; getting into the water seemed to wash the naughty all out of him."
"You are a genuine reformer, little girl!" said the General.
His emphasis was so marked that May looked at him an instant, then threw herself into his arms, crying:
"Oh, who told you? Has Gay told the aunties? Does mother know?"