Aunt Abigail faced her blankly. “Name?” she asked. “Whose ... oh, the kitten’s? Goodness, child, I stopped racking my brain for kitten names sixty years ago. Name it yourself. It’s yours.”
Elizabeth Ann had already named it in her own mind, the name she had always thought she would call a kitten by, if she ever had one. It was Eleanor, the prettiest name she knew.
Aunt Abigail pushed a pitcher toward her. “There’s the cat’s saucer under the sink. Don’t you want to give it some milk?”
Elizabeth Ann got down from her chair, poured some milk into the saucer, and called: “Here, Eleanor! Here, Eleanor!”
Aunt Abigail looked at her sharply out of the corner of her eye and her lips twitched, but a moment later her face was immovably grave as she carried the last plate of pancakes to the table.
Elizabeth Ann sat on her heels for a long time, watching the kitten lap the milk, and she was surprised, when she stood up, to see that Cousin Ann and Uncle Henry had come in, very red-cheeked from the cold air.
“Well, folks,” said Aunt Abigail, “don’t you think we’ve done some lively stepping around, Betsy and I, to get supper all on the table for you?”
Elizabeth Ann stared. What did Aunt Abigail mean? She hadn’t done a thing about getting supper! But nobody made any comment, and they all took their seats and began to eat. Elizabeth Ann was astonishingly hungry, and she thought she could never get enough of the creamed potatoes, cold ham, hot cocoa, and pancakes. She was very much relieved that her refusal of beans caused no comment. Aunt Frances had always tried very hard to make her eat beans because they have so much protein in them, and growing children need protein. Elizabeth Ann had heard this said so many times she could have repeated it backward, but it had never made her hate beans any the less. However, nobody here seemed to know this, and Elizabeth Ann kept her knowledge to herself. They had also evidently never heard how delicate her digestion was, for she never saw anything like the number of pancakes they let her eat. All she wanted! She had never heard of such a thing!
They still did not ask her how she had “stood the trip.” They did not indeed ask her much of anything or pay very much attention to her beyond filling her plate as fast as she emptied it. In the middle of the meal Eleanor came, jumped into her lap, and curled down, purring. After this Elizabeth Ann kept one hand on the little soft ball, handling her fork with the other.
After supper—well, Elizabeth Ann never knew what did happen after supper until she felt somebody lifting her and carrying her upstairs. It was Cousin Ann, who carried her as lightly as though she were a baby, and who said, as she sat down on the floor in a slant-ceilinged bedroom, “You went right to sleep with your head on the table. I guess you’re pretty tired.”