Sarah smiled also; she knew that the boy was too polite to add, "and not with the General!"
"You may go with Phyllis now," said Sarah. "Phyllis, lay the table for lunch—and mind, no wrinkles in the under cloth."
"Yes'm."
"May I help?" begged May. "Thomas often lets me. My brother puts on knives and forks as well as Thomas can, and I can do everything—side table and all. But that isn't so strange for me as it would be for a boy."
"For a boy?" Sarah looked dazed. "What are you but a boy?"
May's head dropped. "I don't really know—I'm not much of a boy," she faltered.
"You are enough of one not to be allowed to meddle with my china," laughed Sarah.
This evidence that Sarah did not suspect the truth was so gratifying that May, much to Sarah's surprise, clasped her affectionately around the waist and put up her face to be kissed. This embrace was witnessed with horror by Phyllis, who could not imagine any one safely taking such liberties with her mistress; her horror changed to astonishment when Sarah returned the caress.
"The world must be coming to an end," thought Phyllis, as she went into the dining room, with May at her heels. "I never saw Miss Sarah so melted—like—somebody will have to pay for it! She's like a pair of scales: when one is up in her opinion somebody else is way down."
When the young people were gone the General appeared at the library door; curiosity had conquered outraged dignity.