“Well, Miss Ann, I think Marse Big Josh air as good as gol’ an’ as kind as custard, but I can’t help a feelin’ that he don’t mean ev’y-thing he says. Not that he ain’t a thinkin’ at the time that he will do what he promises, but ev’ybody knows you have ter take what Marse Big Josh says with a dose of salts. I don’t mean he wouldn’t be proud an’ glad ter have us-alls come an’ visit him, but I mean he ain’t liable ter be a flyin’ any time soon er late in this here world er yet the world ter come. He ain’t ter say sanctified.”
“Well, we’ll stay on here a while longer then, Billy, but far be it from me to have it said we had worn out our welcome.”
“Now, Miss Ann, that there ain’t possible here at Buck Hill. The house pawty air a breakin’ up this day an’ mo’n likely the gues’ chamber will be returned to its rightful habitant. You mus’ a hearn wrong ’bout Miss Milly not wantin’ you. Miss Milly’s all time stoppin’ an’ tellin’ me how proud she air ter have you here under her roof an’ how glad she air ter have sech a zample as you fer her gals ter foller in the footsteps er ’portment an’ ’havior. An’ Marse Bob air continuously singin’ yo’ praises. I hearn him tellin’ Mr. Philip Throckmorton las’ night that you were a gues’ it wa’ his 180 delight ter honor. An’ Mr. Philip Throckmorton said as how as soon as he had a home er his own you would be the fust pusson ter occupew his gues’ chamber. An’ then Mr. Little Josh he said how noble an’ ’stinguished you were an’ s’perior. I tell you, Miss Ann, these here folks air all proud er bein’ yo’ kin. They’s all quarrelin’ ’bout whar you air gonter visit nex’.”
Thus the old man soothed her troubled spirit and lulled it into a semblance of repose. At any rate it was easier to pretend that she believed him. At least it made him happy, and in pretending she almost persuaded herself that her kinsmen were glad and anxious to have her. She drank the coffee her old servant brought her and settled herself for a morning of rest, although the house was buzzing with the breaking up of the house party.
The young people, too, were feeling the effect of last night’s dissipation. The ball was not over at twelve o’clock, as the invitations had intimated it would be, but had gone on into the wee small hours of morning. It was not often that Ryeville had the chance to trip the light fantastic toe to the music of a Louisville band and the eager dancers had begged for more and more. The old people had dropped out, one by one, but the youngsters danced on and on. 181
Then it was that Judith had come into her own as it were, and all of the young men who had been denied before supper seemed determined to make up for lost time. The most persistent of the clamoring swains were Jeff Bucknor and Tom Harbison. This popularity of a person who had always rubbed her the wrong way was wormwood to Mildred Bucknor, and for her brother and Tom Harbison to be rivals for Judith’s favor added gall to the wormwood. Not that Mildred was not having a very good time herself. Indeed, she was always something of a belle and never lacked for partners, but she had other plans for her brother on the one hand and on the other Tom Harbison had paid her enough attention for her to consider him in a measure her property. She had even announced to several of her friends, in the strictest confidence, that she was engaged to him—or “as good as engaged.”
The ball of the night before was under discussion at the breakfast table. It was pronounced, on the whole, to have been a very good ball and a fitting climax to the house party.
“Of course it is perfectly absurd for the old men to think they can put that Buck girl into society by merely giving her a debut party,” said Mildred. “It takes something besides good 182 clothes and an introduction to place people.”
“How about beauty and intelligence and character?” asked Jeff.
“Well, tastes differ as to beauty, and if she had any sense she would know enough not to try to push herself where she isn’t wanted. I don’t think it is indicative of a very good character to accept clothes from a man. I heard, on very good authority, that a man gave her her dress. He paid a pretty penny for it, too, I am sure. Nan and I looked at some gowns like hers when we were in Louisville and they were too steep for us, I can tell you.”