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.
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