with the kittens feeling almost sure that she had gained her point.
Then Bob and his father moved Mrs. Barlow with her chair and footstool out to the dining-room.
"I don't know what there is, myself," she said, "but we'll forage in the sideboard and pantry and see."
The foraging resulted in a pair of cold roasted ducks, plenty of plum-cake and a cherry-pie.
"I'm sorry there isn't any bread," said Mrs. Barlow, apologetically; "I told Hopalong to order it as she went by the baker's, but I fear she forgot it."
"Never mind," said Bob, "I don't care much for bread, anyhow, do you, Patty? Mother, here's a lot of cold potatoes. Can't you make a salad?"
"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Barlow; so the children brought the ingredients, and a fine salad was soon concocted.
While this was going on, Miss Allen came running in.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I'm as hungry as a hunter. We've been out sailing, and I've such an appetite. Who is this pretty child?"
