"Yes'm," Phyllis answered.
"You may go," Sarah added.
"Yes'm," and the door closed after Phyllis. Phyllis' vocabulary was reduced to the single word "Yes'm;" it was the only word that did not give offense to her mistress, who had her own views concerning humility in serving maids.
Sarah at the tea-table made an exceedingly pleasing picture. Her comely figure was clad in a remarkable flowered brilliant, of a style so ancient, as to suggest the thought that she had robbed the cedar chest of an old-time gentlewoman to procure it. A fine lawn kerchief and an apron of the same material completed an attire as picturesque as that of Mistress This or Dame That in some old comedy.
Nor was General Haines' appearance less picturesque than that of his housekeeper. He prided himself upon being and looking "a gentleman of the old school." His attire was modeled after that of his great-grandfather, a redoubtable general of Washington's time. He wore knee breeches, satin waistcoat, black silk hose, and low shoes with handsome buckles. He even went so far in his imitation of the "old school" as to carry a snuff-box of fine workmanship, but he was too modern in his taste to use the snuff.
Picturesque and comely as were these figures at the tea-table, one at least, was as uncomfortable as it would be possible for any one to be in clothes of the latest mode. After three cups of tea General Haines had not acquired sufficient courage to produce the telegram that fairly burned in his pocket. He had hoped that Sarah might be curious enough to ask what he desired to say to her, but this was precisely what she did not intend to do. She had measured lances with the General a good many times, and knew the transparent tricks he employed to get the better of her. "If he's got anything to say let him say it, not try to make me commit myself before he has opened his head!" her thoughts ran.
At length he had to "say it," and he began,—
"I—expect—I expect a—a—boy on the noon train to-morrow!" He tried to speak carelessly, just as if he had been in daily receipt of boys by the noon train for years!—but his attempt was not a success, and he knew it.
"So that's what he's been up to!" thought Sarah. She said, "We don't need a boy; we've help enough on the place."
"He isn't help, he's a visitor."