"Before you go, Patricia," Miss Jane said, kindly, "come round to the
kitchen and have a glass of cool milk and a cookie."

The kitchen door had been left open in the excited rush of a few moments
before. As the three neared it now, Miss Susan darted forward, with very
much the same shriek of horrified dismay as Mrs. Miller had uttered not
long since.

Mounted on a chair, his feet firmly planted on the kitchen-table was
a small black dog, just finishing the contents of a large glass dish
standing at the edge of the table.

"It's my custard," Miss Susan wailed, "and the minister coming to
supper!"

The "very nice dog" turned round, licking his chops contentedly. It
almost seemed as if he winked at Patricia.

The next instant, skilfully dodging Miss Susan, he had retired to the
side yard, to finish licking his chops. Truly, it was a red-letter day
for him. He wagged affably at the eloquent Miss Susan; surely he had
paid her the highest compliment in his power.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Patricia declared. "He must have been very
hungry--I couldn't have given him nearly enough breakfast." Then she
brightened. "After all, Miss Susan, I don't suppose he's ever had
custard before; and I know Dr. Vail has--lots of times."

Which view of the case did not in the least appeal to the indignant