"No, thank you," she said, as she waved her plate away; "I don't care for any; it don't look very good. I reckon it wheyed a little mite, didn't it?" she asked, turning to Mrs. Adams inquiringly. But the doctor mercifully led her off into a tide of reminiscence, and his daughter was spared for the time being. The dinner went on from bad to worse, but the guests were most polite, and tried their best to keep up a brisk conversation, while they nibbled at the underdone potatoes and picked at the overdone asparagus. Miss Bean alone was unconscious of the true state of affairs, for Mrs. Adams had thought it unnecessary to inform her of the cause for the party, and she commented with a perfect unconcern, ending with the final verdict,-- "Well, Mis' Adams, though I do say it that shouldn't, I do think your cook has fallen off considerable since I was here before. No wonder Polly looks kind o' peaked." The sudden buzz of conversation rose again, as if to cover Polly's confusion, while Alan gave her hand a sympathetic pinch under the tablecloth. However, Polly was supported through these trials by the thought of her final triumph when the pudding should appear. At last the meat was removed, and the clearing of the table was only interrupted by a quick cry of "Scat!" from Mary, as she was taking the last plates from the room. "Now," thought Polly, straightening up and raising her eyes defiantly, "now I'll show them that there's one thing I can do well, anyway." Alas for Polly! Some one else had thought her pudding a success. It came in, borne by Mary, who set it down, disclosing a round hole in it, near one end of the dish, and bent to whisper in Polly's ear. "What?" gasped Polly, as the bright color rushed into her cheeks, and then faded again. Mary repeated her whisper, more loudly this time, and the company plainly heard the one word _cat_. It was too true. The Adams cat was an animal of refined tastes and, preferring pudding to her ordinary diet of bread and milk, she had watched her chance when Mary's back was turned, and mounting to the table, she had helped herself to the dainty dish, which was for the moment unguarded. Tears stood in Polly's eyes, and another minute would have brought them down in a shower, had not the doctor burst out laughing, as he exclaimed,-- "It's too bad, and I am sorry for you, Polly; but I don't believe we any of us ever enjoyed a dinner more than we have this one." And Mrs. Hapgood added hastily,-- "Yes, and we mothers have all been through it ourselves so many times, too." [Illustration: ALAS FOR POLLY! SOME ONE ELSE HAD THOUGHT THE PUDDING A SUCCESS."] All this was like Hebrew to Miss Bean, who was at a loss to see why they should all be administering comfort to Polly. But there could be no doubt that something was wrong, so she inquired, with an air of stony censure,-- "What is the matter, for the land sakes? If Polly can't eat what's set before her, she can go without."