The next morning Dr. Brentwood drove over to the General's with a message from Philip; he was sick in bed; would Gay come and see him?

"Why, of course I'll go," said sympathetic May. "And I'll stay as long as he wants me."

This answer seemed so broad-minded, viewed in the light of the recent events, that the General saw May drive away with the doctor with feelings of pride and pleasure.

"He's the finest boy I have ever known!" the General said to Sarah.

"I told you so, but you called him a 'molly cott' and a 'girl boy.'"

"I admit my error. Fancy my calling that manly little fellow such names! A boy of the best type, Sarah; an out-and-out boy."

"Anybody can see that. I don't take any credit to myself for seeing just what kind of a boy he is, for honesty, sincerity and loveableness shine right out on his bright little face, bless him!"

"That is true, Sarah. Still, I believe that the first day he came you said you didn't take any stock in him—how is that?"

"Quite a different thing. But I can't waste my time here; I've something to do elsewhere," and Sarah hurried away, leaving the General smiling broadly.

Once in awhile, as often as a very wicked man has a good impulse, let us say, the General enjoyed a quiet laugh at the expense of his housekeeper, and it made him feel at peace with all mankind. It was in a very agreeable frame of mind, therefore, that he sought his library and picked up what he believed to be a book of the Æneid, opened it at random, and at a passage that was worse than Greek to him. It was:

"Wednesday—I wish I had never tried to be a Boy. I drilled this morning with Uncle Harold and a dreadful rifle. I blistered my hands, carrying the gun that wanted to explode and kill everybody, and my heels marching front rank obleek."

"Bless me!" exclaimed the General; then he read the next entry.

"Thursday.—I don't mind drilling with a rifle that has cotton wool in it. I wish Gay was here and I was in Hazelnook. I don't like to deceve. Uncle H. half-and-half likes me; Sarah and Fillis like me. I wish I could have a dress like Fillises and Miss Sarah's. When I am a girl again I shall ask mother if I may have one, and wear a little apron and a kerchief, and have a bunch of kees. I have two kees of my own, and Gay might let me have the kee to his tool chest; then he would know where it was. I don't think my uncle is very hospityable; but, maybe, that is my punishment for letting him think I am a boy. They got punished in Bible times, for things they did—grasshoppers like a cloud and lots more; and I think people get punished now—not grasshoppers, perhaps, because there aren't enough now to go round. There is a tiny, wee chest in the attic filled with a little girl's clothes. I put them all on. It seemed good and very natcheral, too, although the dresses must be a hundred and seventy-five years old, at least. I like knickerbockers. I rode bareback on old Kate, the roan mare, yesterday, and climbed to the top of the tree in the corner of the garden, and I did it a great deal easier than I could in skirts.

"P. S.—I musn't forget the officer's salute."

"In the afternoon.—We are friends! Now I feel worse than I did before, because I am deseving somebody that likes me."

"What does this mean?" thought the General, when he had read these remarkable disclosures. "Is Gay a girl? Is he my nephew or my niece, or somebody else altogether! If he—she—has been cheating me all this time I shall never forgive him—her, I mean."

Then, stifling his conscience by saying that he was not spying, but looking into something that needed to be looked into—I am not sure that he did not say, "For the good of the commonwealth!"—the General finished reading the poor little journal, all blotted as it was with ink and tears. As he read, his emotions ranged from pity to anger; from anger back to pity again. He pitied the suffering of the child; he was angry at the deceit that had been practised upon him.

"Sarah!" he called, when he had read the last entry made that morning in his own library, and possibly interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, for a sentence was left unfinished. "Sarah, come here!"

"What is it?" said Sarah, appearing at the door.

"Come in," said the General.

Sarah entered the room, and seated herself with an ill-concealed air of indifference in the most uncomfortable chair in the room. She never sat in a comfortable chair during an interview with the General; it seemed as if she feared being led into a state of amiable receptivity if her body were at ease; it was her way of delivering herself from temptation to be acquiescent.

"An unexpected complication," the General began. "A most unexpec——"

"What is it?" demanded Sarah, cutting him short.

"Read this and see for yourself," the General replied, extending May's journal.

Sarah took the leather-bound book and read it through without comment.

"Well," said the General, impatiently, "what do you think of it? Have you ever known such duplicity?"

"No duplicity about it," Sarah said, contrary-minded, as usual. "These children went into it for a 'lark,' as Gay—May, I mean—says here. Just think of that dear little girl drilling, putting out fires, keeping up during that Brentwood scrape, and pulling that boy out of the pond! I declare, when I think of that Philip, I'd like to shake him. If our child is a girl, she is the pluckiest one I have ever seen!"

"Sarah!" said the General, weakly, "you are the most inconsistent woman I have ever known."

"You haven't known women enough to be able to judge of my inconsistency," Sarah rejoined, dryly.

"I shall write to their father and to Hazelnook to-night," said the General, glad to change the subject.

"If you've a grain of sense you'll do nothing of the sort," Sarah exclaimed. "Those children kept quiet that their mother might not be troubled, and you mustn't break up all their plans."

"I will take Gay, or May, or whichever it is, down to Hazelnook to-morrow, and straighten out matters there," said the General.

"It would be a good idea to stop this masquerading just where it is," Sarah admitted. "You had better bring Gay—May—back with you, unless you prefer the boy, and let her finish her visit here in her own clothes."

"I don't think I prefer the boy," the General said rather sheepishly. "Still——"

"You know you love that child better than you could love fifty boys!" cried Sarah. "We don't want a noisy boy in the house."

"What? Not a boy whose 'honesty, sincerity and lovableness shine right out on his dear little face?'" laughed the General.

"No, nor 'an out and out boy!'" Sarah retorted. "I'm afraid you can't go until after to-morrow," she added. "May writes: 'Gay has spoiled all my pretty summer dresses,' in one of her entries, and we shall have to make her some sort of a frock before she can go, for that boy hasn't left her a rag, and you may be sure he'll want his jackets and trousers when he sees them again."

The General laughed.

"What a pair of madcaps they must be when they are together!" he said.

"Bring them both back with you," said Sarah, heartily. "It is cruel to separate them any longer."

"It would suit me perfectly," said the General. "But do you want two children in the house?"

"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?"

"Your journal told," said Sarah, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm glad it did," cried May, emphatically. "I was never so tired of being myself as I am of being somebody else!"

She ran up to Sarah and kissed her rapturously; then to Phyllis and kissed her three, four, yes, six, times. With her arms around Phyllis's neck, May said,—

"You couldn't have been kinder to me when I was unhappy if you had been my own sister. You just believed in me without question, and that's true friendship."

Phyllis was too happy at this praise even to answer, but May knew the reason of her silence and saved her the trouble of replying, saying,—

"Will you all excuse me a minute, please?" Then she darted into the house before they could speak.

They excused her five, ten, fifteen minutes, and then she returned. Knickerbockers and blouse were gone, and in their place was a quaint white frock, with low, short waist and elaborate full sleeves covered with exquisite embroidery.

"Katherine's dress!" exclaimed Sarah, looking at the General.

"I found it in the little cedar chest in the attic," said May, looking at her waist and sleeves with admiring eyes. "Doesn't it fit well? May I wear these clothes while I stay, Miss Sarah? They fit, for I tried them on a week ago and they look just like my dresses, only mine are not so much like silk. May I wear them? I won't hurt them a bit!"

Sarah looked at the General, who nodded his head vigorously.

"Yes, you may wear them," Sarah said. "They belonged to your little great-aunt, Katherine Haines, who died sixty years ago."

"Poor little great-aunt," said May, looking sad and touching the fine India muslin frock reverently.

But May's pensive mood did not last. Seizing the General's walking stick she took the soldier's position, arms at a carry, and in an excellent imitation of the General's manner, shouted,——

"Fire as by single rank. Ready, aim, fire!"

These commands she executed with great spirit amid applause from the audience. Then the General put her through several motions and when drill was over she paused before him, and asked,—

"Which way do you like me best, Uncle Harold—as a boy or a girl?"

The General opened his arms and May leaped into them. Then the hater of petticoats laid his bearded cheek against May's soft, young face and said,—

"I wouldn't exchange my little girl for all the boys in the world!"