"She never said 'peep turkey!' ter man or beast. She lef' a dime fer me an' one fer Kizzie an' she went a sailin' out, an' although I done my bes' ter git that ol' Billy ter talk he ain't done give me no satisfaction, but jes' a little back talk, an' then he fotch hisself off, walkin' low an' settin' high an' I ain't seed hide or har of them since. Miss Ann done lef' a note fer you an' Miss Milly, though." The note proved to be nothing more than Miss Ann's usual formal farewell and did not mention her proposed destination. "By the great jumping jingo, I hope she didn't try my lane with her old carriage!" exclaimed Big Josh. "That lane, with the women in my family at the end of it, would be the undoing of poor old Cousin Ann. May I use your phone, Bob? I think I'll find out if she's there before I go home." Every man rang up his home and every man breathed a sigh of relief when he found that Miss Ann had not arrived. Wild and varied were their surmises concerning where she had gone. "This is the most disgraceful thing that ever happened in the family," declared Timothy Graves. "Of course I know I am only law-kin, but still I feel the disgrace." "You needn't be so proud of yourself, Tim, because you were some kin already before you married Sister Sue," chided Brother Tom. "I can't see that you are not in on it too." "That's what I said." "Yes, but you said it because you really felt it in your favor that you were law-kin," put in Little Josh. "Nonsense!" "Come, come," pleaded Mr. Bob Bucknor, "rowing with each other isn't finding out where Cousin Ann has gone. Kizzie! Aunt Em'ly!" he shouted, "get that cracked ice and mint now. Come on, you fellows, and let's see if we can find any inspiration in the bottom of a frosted goblet." CHAPTER XXII A Great Transformation It was unbelievable that a lumbering coach, with two fat horses, an old lady in a hoop skirt and a bow-legged coachman, could have disappeared from the face of the earth. Nevertheless, this seemed the case. Nobody knew where Cousin Ann had gone. Telephones were ringing into the night in vain attempts to trace the old lady. It had never made much difference to anyone before where Miss Ann had gone. For many years she had been leaving one relation's home and arriving at another's, and the comings and goings of Cousin Ann had created but a small ripple in family affairs. She had never deigned to say where next she intended to visit, so why now should the cousins be so disturbed over her whereabouts? "I am so afraid something has happened to her," said Mr. Bob Bucknor. "I'll never forgive myself if Cousin Ann is in trouble, when I have literally driven her from my house."