e'll say
that when Marse Bob axes us. If you tells one tale an' I tells anudder
Marse Bob'll be mad as a wet hen."

The old coach, creaking ominously, lumbered and rolled down the
avenue. The bees, with their front door blocked by the corn cob,
hummed furiously. Miss Ann, ensconced behind the barricade of luggage,
gazed out on the rolling meadows of Buck Hill and thought bitterly of
the old days when devoted cavaliers accompanied her coach, eager to
escort her on her journey and vying with one another for a smile from
the careless girl within.

She tried to remember the intervening years but could not. She was a
beautiful young girl, sought after, welcomed everywhere. Then she was
an old woman, unloved, unwelcome, nobody wanting her, nobody loving
her. She did not know where Billy was driving her. She did not care.
The old man had taken matters into his own hands and no doubt he would
leave the decision to Cupid and Puck. She put her head against the
upholstered back of the seat and dozed. The morning air came sweet and
fresh across the blue-grass meadows. She had a dream, vague and
uncertain, but in some unexpected and shadowy way she was happy. She
awoke and dozed again. Again a sweet dream of peace and contentment.

The horses came to a standstill. Miss Ann awoke with a start. She did
not know whether she had slept moments or hours. Billy had opened the
door and was saying: "Miss Ann, we done arriv!" and then he began to
unpack his beloved mistress.

CHAPTER XX

A Heart-warming Welcome

"Mumsy, here comes Cousin Ann!"

"There you are at it again, Judith. I say shame on you for calling
people cousin who don't even know they are related."

"Anyhow, here comes Cousin Ann!"

"Comes where? Along the pike? I don't see that that is anything to get
excited over."

"But it is not along the pike. She is coming here--here in our home.
Old Billy has stopped the horses and is down off his box and has
opened the door and is unpacking the luggage. After a little while he
will come to Cousin Ann.

"Do you know what that means, Mumsy? It means that we are to be taken
into the bosom of the family, as it were. Cousin Ann only visits
relations. I reckon I'm a snob but I can't help being glad that I am
to belong. I won't let anybody but you know that, Mumsy, but I'm going
to be just as nice and kind to poor Cousin Ann as can be. You will
too, won't you, dear Mumsy?"

"Well, I guess I know how to treat company," b