I kept on looking at Bess, and she kept on talking to Aunt Fannie, but I looked so hard that finally she had to turn her eyes, and when she saw my face, the corners of her mouth went up and she stopped in the middle of a sentence.
"What's the matter, Chet?" she asked, coolly. "You look as if you had left something at home, and had just thought of it."
I saw that she was going to make some sort of a bluff, and so I said no, that I was just wondering what she was going to do when she got ready to eat, because she couldn't eat and talk at the same time. I had to say something.
Uncle Fred was getting things well under way. He had put two big dumplings on her plate, and now he turned to her:—"Light or dark meat, Bess?" he asked.
"Light meat, please," said Bess, cheerfully; and so he put on a fine piece of the breast, and then a big spoonful of mashed potatoes, and then I saw her last hope go down, drowned in a great sousing of rich gravy over the whole thing!
I looked away. I knew that I should have to either laugh or choke,—and I was sorry, too. She certainly was up against it! The table was
