“Oh, nonsense, Cousin Ann!” exclaimed Mrs. Throckmorton impatiently. “Nobody said you must go immediately. It was just with the wedding imminent and—anyhow I meant it for the best when I mentioned a home for aged women. You would be quite comfortable in one and I am sure I could find exactly the right sort. You would have to make a deposit of several thousands—I don’t know exactly how much but you must have a little something left since you pay old Billy’s wages and have your horses shod and so on. Of course in the home you would have no such expenses. You could sell your horses and your old coach is little more than junk, and old Billy could go to a home too.”
Miss Ann had paused a moment but when Mrs. Throckmorton spoke of her carriage as junk and suggested a home for Billy, too, her indignation knew no bounds and with a commanding gesture of dismissal she stalked from the dining-room. Billy was summoned and since it was out of the question to start so late in the 43 evening it was determined that daylight should find them on their way to Buck Hill—Buck Hill where a certain flavor of old times was still to be found, with Cousin Bob Bucknor, so like his father, who had been one of the swains who followed in the train of the beautiful Ann Peyton. Buck Hill would always make her welcome!
And now—Buck Hill—and a hall bedroom!
CHAPTER IV
The Energy of Judith
“Mother, Cousin Ann Peyton is at Buck Hill. I saw her old carriage on the road when I went in for my express parcels.”
“Why will you insist upon saying Cousin Ann, Judith?” drawled Mrs. Buck. “I’d take my time about calling anybody cousin who scorned to do the same by me.”
As Judith’s mother took her time about everything, the girl smiled indulgently, and proceeded in the unpacking of the express packages.