Ann stopped on the threshold, held by surprise. She had not known of any expected visitor. For the last six years they had been too poor and too proud to entertain even a Penniman. And there was something in her aunt's manner and appearance that arrested Ann's attention. Sue Penniman was always pale, Ann could easily remember the few times when she had seen color in her aunt's cheeks, and, though she always worked steadily, it was without energy or enthusiasm. But there was color in her cheeks now, and eagerness in her movements. She was thin and her shoulders a little rounded from hard work, but now, when she lifted to look at Ann, she stood very erect and the unwonted color in her face and the brightness in her blue eyes made her almost pretty. "Is some one comin', Aunt Sue?" Ann asked. Her aunt did not answer at once. She looked at Ann steadily, long enough for a quiver of feeling to cross her face. Then she came around the bed, came close enough to Ann to put her hands on Ann's shoulders. "Cousin Coats is comin', Ann," she said, her nasal drawl softened almost to huskiness. Her _father_ coming! The color of sudden and intense emotion swept into Ann's face, widening her eyes and parting her lips, a lift of joy and of craving combined that stifled her. It was a full moment before Ann could speak. Then she asked, "When--?" "Sunday--to-morrow." "When did you know?" Ann was quite white now. "Last night--Ben Brokaw brought the letter." "And you-all kept it to yourselves!" All the hurt and isolation of Ann's seventeen years spoke in her face and in her voice. Sue was surprised by the passion of anger and pain. It was a tribute to Ann's power of concealment; she had not suspected this pent feeling. "I didn't know you'd care so much," Sue said in a troubled way. "It seemed like you didn't care about anything, you're always so--gay. An' Coats has been away since you were a baby. I didn't think you'd care so much. I wanted to tell you, but your grandpa didn't want I should till we'd talked it over. And I was worried about your grandpa too--he was so excited." "Grandpa hates me! And father must hate me, too, or he wouldn't have left me when I was a baby and never even have written to me!" Ann exclaimed passionately, restraint thrown to the winds. "_Ann!_ What's come over you to talk like that! Your grandpa doesn't hate you! If you only knew!... You see, Ann, you've got a gay, I-don't-care way with you, and it worries your grandpa. He's seen a terrible lot of trouble. And since the stroke he had four years ago he's felt he was no good for work any more, and what was going to become of the place. It's all those things has worried him." Ann said nothing. She simply stood, quivering under her aunt's hands.