Miss Peyton wore hoop skirts. Where she got them was often conjectured. Surely she could not be wearing the same ones she had worn in the sixties and everybody knew that the articles were no longer manufactured. Big Josh had declared on one occasion when some of the relatives had waxed jocose on the subject of Cousin Ann and her style of dress, that she had bought a gross of hoop skirts cheap at the time when they were going out of style and had them stored in his attic--but then everybody knew that Big Josh would say anything that popped into his head and then swear to it and Little Josh would back him up. "By heck, there's no room in the attic for trunks," he had insisted. "Hoop skirts everywhere! Boxes of 'em! Barrels of 'em! Hanging from the rafters like Japanese lanterns! Standing up in the corners like ghosts scaring a fellow to death! I can't keep servants at all because of Cousin Ann Peyton's buying that gross of hoop skirts. Little Josh will bear me out in this." And Little Josh would, although the truth of the matter was that Cousin Ann had only one hoop skirt, and it was the same she had worn in the sixties. Inch by inch its body had been renewed to reclaim it from the ravages of time until not one iota of the original garment was left. Here a tape and there a wire had been carefully changed, but always the hoop kept its original form. The spirit of the sixties still breathed from it and it enveloped Miss Ann as in olden days. CHAPTER III Cousin Ann Is Affronted Mrs. Bucknor stood aside while Uncle Billy and Jeff unpacked the carriage but as the visitor emerged she came forward. "How do you do, Cousin Ann?" she said, trying to put some warmth in her remark. "Have you driven far?" Cousin Ann leaned over stiffly and gave her hostess a perfunctory peck on her cheek. "We left Cousin Betty Throckmorton's this morning," she said with a toss of the purple poke bonnet. "Then you must have had a very early breakfast." It was a well-known fact that the sorrel horses, although of the famous Golddust breed, were old and could travel at a stretch only about five miles an hour. "We lef' Miss Betty's befo' breakfas'," said Uncle Billy sadly, but a glance from his mistress made him add, "but we ain't hongry, case we done et our fill at a hotel back yonder." "I deemed it wise to travel before the heat of the day," said Miss Ann with an added dignity. "Take my luggage to my room, Billy." "Yassum, yes, Miss Ann," and the old man made a show of tying his team to the hitching post although he knew that the fat old Cupid and Puck were glad to stop and rest and nothing short of oats would budge them. Mildred and Nan came slowly down the walk, followed by Aunt Em'ly. "We've got to let her kiss us and we might just as well get it over with," grumbled Mildred. "Well, they's some compersations in bein' black," chuckled Aunt Em'ly. "I ain't never had ter kiss Miss Ann yit."