Harriet hadn't had them very often for dinner. And there was a plate of
biscuits, golden brown, just coming out of the oven! She sat down very
quickly, her mouth watering, and attacked with extreme haste the big
plateful of food which Cousin Ann passed her.

At Aunt Harriet's she had always been aware that everybody watched her
anxiously as she ate, and she had heard so much about her light appetite
that she felt she must live up to her reputation, and had a very natural
and human hesitation about eating all she wanted when there happened to
be something she liked very much. But nobody here knew that she "only
ate enough to keep a bird alive," and that her "appetite was SO
capricious!" Nor did anybody notice her while she stowed away the
chicken and gravy and hot biscuits and currant jelly and baked potatoes
and apple pie--when did Elizabeth Ann ever eat such a meal before! She
actually felt her belt grow tight.

In the middle of the meal Cousin Ann got up to answer the telephone,
which was in the next room. The instant the door had closed behind her
Uncle Henry leaned forward, tapped Elizabeth Ann on the shoulder, and
nodded toward the sofa. His eyes were twinkling, and as for Aunt Abigail
she began to laugh silently, shaking all over, her napkin at her mouth
to stifle the sound. Elizabeth Ann turned wonderingly and saw the old
dog cautiously and noiselessly letting himself down from the sofa, one
ear cocked rigidly in the direction of Cousin Ann's voice in the next
room. "The old tyke!" said Uncle Henry. "He always sneaks up to the
table to be fed if Ann goes out for a minute. Here, Betsy, you're
nearest, give him this piece of skin from the chicken neck." The big dog
padded forward across the room, evidently in such a state of terror
about Cousin Ann that Elizabeth Ann felt for him. She had a fellow-
feeling about that relative of hers. Also it was impossible to be afraid