“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?” 213

“Well, I guess I know how to treat company,” bridled Mrs. Buck.

Miss Ann sat, dazed and wondering, while Billy pulled out the luggage and piled it up by the white picket fence. She did not know where the old coachman had brought her. She wondered vaguely if it could be the home of Cousin David’s oldest daughter whose married name had escaped her. Could she have slept a whole day?

Suddenly a red-haired girl in a blue dress came running down the walk and before Billy could get his mistress unpacked this girl had sprung into the coach and putting her arms around Miss Ann’s neck kissed her first on one cheek and then on the other.

“Mother and I are real glad to see you and we hope you and Uncle Billy will stay with us just as long as you are comfortable and happy,” said Judith. “Howdy, Uncle Billy!”

“Howdy, missy!” Great tears were coursing down the old brown face.

“The guest chamber is all ready, except for being sheeted and that won’t take me a minute. Just bring the things right in, Uncle Billy. Here, I’ll help and then Miss Ann can get out.”

“Cousin Ann, child! I am your Cousin Ann Peyton.” Miss Ann spoke from the depths of 214 the coach. And then Mrs. Buck, having hastily tied on a clean apron, came down the walk and was introduced to the visitor, greeting her with shy hospitality.

“I’m pleased to meet you. Judith and I’ll be right glad of your company.”

How long had it been since anybody had said that to Miss Ann? The old lady flushed with pleasure.

“You are my cousin-in-law, but I don’t know your name.”

“Prudence—Prudence Knight was my maiden name.”

“Ah, then, Cousin Prudence! It is very kind of you and your daughter to greet me so cordially. I hope Billy and I will not be much trouble during our short stay with you. Are you certain it is convenient to have us?”

Now be it noted that in all of the long years of visiting Miss Ann Peyton had never before asked whether or not her coming was convenient. Hitherto she had simply come and stayed until it suited her to move on.

“Indeed it is convenient,” cried Judith. “Mother and I are here all alone and we have loads of room.”

When Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Knight broke up housekeeping in New England they moved 215 every stick of furniture they possessed to their new home. This furniture had been in the family for generations. There were old highboys of polished mahogany and chaste design, four-poster beds and gate-legged tables, a Sheraton sideboard and Chippendale chairs, a claw-footed secretary with leaded glass doors and secret drawers. There were hooked rugs and patchwork quilts of intricate and wonderful design, hand woven bedspreads of a blue seldom seen and Chinese cabinets and strange grotesque brasses, no doubt brought to New England by the Norse sailor man who had left his mark on the family according to Mrs. Buck.

Miss Ann Peyton felt singularly at home from the moment she entered the front door. The guest chamber, where old Dick Buck had made it convenient to spend the last years of his life, was so pleasant one hardly blamed the old man for establishing himself there. A low-pitched room it was, with windows looking out over the meadow and furnished with mahogany so rare and beautiful it might have graced a museum.

“Now, Cousin Ann, please make yourself absolutely at home. If you want to unpack immediately there is a dandy closet here, and here is a wardrobe and here is a highboy and 216 here a bureau. Uncle Billy can take your trunks to the attic when you empty them. I wish I could help you, but Mumsy and I are up to our necks canning peaches and we can’t stop a minute. If you want to come help peel we’d be delighted. We are on the side porch and it is lovely and cool out there,” and Judith was gone.

Help peel peaches! Why not? Miss Ann smiled. Nobody ever asked her to help. It was a new experience for her. She decided not to unpack immediately, but donned an apron and hastened to the side porch.

It was pleasant there. Mrs. Buck was peeling laboriously, anxious not to waste a particle of fruit. She stopped long enough to get a paring knife and bowl for the visitor.

“Judith has gone to show your servant where to put the carriage and horses and then to open up the house in the back for him. It was the old house the Bucks had before my father bought this place—a good enough house with furniture in it. Judith gives it a big cleaning now and then and I reckon the old man can move right in.”

Old Billy was in the seventh heaven of delight. A stable for Cupid and Puck, with plenty of good pasture land, a carriage house 217 for the coach, shared with Judith’s little blue car, but best of all, a house for himself!

“A house with winders an’ a chimbly an’ a po’ch wha’ I kin sot cans er jewraniums an’ a box er portulac! I been a dreamin’ ’bout sech a house all my life, Miss Judy. Sometimes when I is fo’ced ter sleep in the ca’ige, when Miss Ann an’ me air a visitin’ wha’ things air kinder crowded like, I digs me up a little flower an’ plants it in a ol’ can an’ kinder makes out my coachman’s box air a po’ch. Miss Judy, it air a sad thing ter git ter be ol’ an’ wo’ out ’thout ever gittin’ what you wanted when you wa’ young an’ spry.”

“Yes, Uncle Billy, I know how you feel, but now you have a little house and you can live in it as long as it suits you and grow all the flowers you’ve a mind to. Nobody has lived in it for years and years but I used to play down here when I was a little girl and had time to play. Every now and then I give it a good cleaning, though, and you won’t have to do much to start with.”

It was a rough, two-roomed cabin, with shabby furniture, but it seemed like a palace to the old darkey.

“I reckon I’ll put me up a red curtain,” he sighed. “I been always a wantin’ a red 218 curtain, an’ bless Bob, if they ain’t already a row of skillets an’ cookin’ pots by the chimbly. I am moughty partial ter a big open fiah place wha’ you kin make yo’ se’f a ol’ time ash cake.”

“Can you cook, Uncle Billy?”

“Sho’ I kin cook, but I ain’t git much chanct ter cook, what with livin’ roun’ so much.”

“Well, you can help me sometimes when I get pushed for time,” and Judith told the old man of the task she had undertaken of feeding the motormen.

“Sholy! Sholy!” he agreed and then the thought came to him as it had to Miss Ann—When before had he been asked to help?

Judith found the two ladies busily engaged in paring peaches. She was amused to discover that Miss Ann was quicker than her mother and more expert. The old lady’s fingers were nimble and dainty and she handled her knife with remarkable skill.

“My goodness! You go so fast I can begin to can,” cried Judith. Miss Ann’s face beamed with happiness as she watched her young cousin weighing sugar and fruit and then lighting the kerosene stove which stood behind a screen in the corner of the porch.

Judith kept up a lively chatter as she sterilized glass jars and dipped out the cooked fruit. 219 Miss Ann worked faster and faster and even Mrs. Buck hurried in spite of herself. Uncle Billy’s amazement was ludicrous when he came upon his mistress making one of this busy family group. But in an instant the old man was helping, too.

The morning was gone but the peaches were all canned, the table filled with amber-colored jars. Billy must carry them to the storeroom and place them on the shelves. He ran back and forth looking like a little brown gnome and actually skipping with happiness. Miss Ann smiled contentedly while Mrs. Buck gathered up the peach skins and stones which she had saved with a view to making marmalade, although Judith assured her that the peach crop was so big that year there would be no use in such close economy.

“Now, we’ll have luncheon and then everybody must take a nap,” commanded Judith and everybody was very glad to, after the strenuous morning’s work, but first Billy slipped out to the carriage house and pulled the corn cob out of the bumble bees’ hole.

“There now, you po’ critters! I reckon you kin call this home too an’ jes’ buzz aroun’ all you’se a min’ ter,” the old man whispered happily.