truf
er the matter is, Miss Milly, that you an' Marse Bob Bucknor an' all
yo' chilluns as well, long with all the res' of the fambly includin'
of Marse Big Josh an' Marse Lil Josh, done accepted of Miss Ann Peyton
an' ol' Billy an' the ca'ige hosses like they wa' the will of the
Almighty. Well, now le's see if Miss Ann Peyton can't accept the hall
room like it wa' the will er the Almighty an' if ol' Billy can't come
ter some 'clusion that Gawd air aginst his dryin' out his ol' feet in
my oven."

While this discussion was going on, the cloud of limestone dust had
disappeared and from it had emerged a quaint old coach, lumbering and
shabby, drawn by a pair of sleek sorrel horses, whose teeth would have
given evidence of advanced age had a possible purchaser submitted them
to the indignity of examining them. Their progress was slow and
sedate, although the driver handled the reins as though it were with
difficulty that he restrained them from prancing and cavorting as they
neared the mansion.

Old Billy's every line, from his dented top hat to his well-nigh
soleless boots, expressed dignity and superiority. He was quite sure
that being coachman to Miss Ann Peyton gave him the right to wipe
those worn boots on the rest of mankind.

"Look at that ol' fool nigger!" exclaimed Aunt Em'ly in disgust.
"Settin' up there lookin' mo' like a monkey than a man in that
long-tail blue coat with brass buttons an' his ha'r like cotton wool
an' whiskers so long he haster wrop 'em. The onlies wuck that nigger
ever does is jes' growin' whiskers."

"Oh, come now, Aunt Em'ly," remonstrated a young man who stepped from
the study window on the porch as the old coach lumbered up the
driveway, "Uncle Billy keeps his horses in better condition than any
on our farm are kept. Poor old Uncle Billy!"

"Poor old Uncle Billy, indeed!" snapped Mildred. "I reckon, Brother
Jeff, you'd say poor old Cousin Ann, too."

"Of course I would. I can't think of any person in the world I feel
much sorrier for."

"Well, I can. I feel lots sorrier for Nan and me with our house party
on hand and Cousin Ann turning up for the second time since Christmas.
It's all well enough for you and Father to be so high and mighty about
honoring the aged, and blood being thicker than water and so on. You
don't have to sleep with Cousin Ann, the way Nan and I do sometimes."

"We-ell, no!" laughed Jeff.

"Hush, Mildred. Remember how Father feels about the comings of Cousin