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Updated: June 11, 2025


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.

Bucknor proceeded to tell the story, of course in the strictest confidence, about Tom Harbison and the milk can, all of which went to convince others beside Big Josh that Judith might prove a valuable acquisition to the family. "I reckon she's coped with worse than our women," said Little Josh.

It is too late to be anything else now and you will go on being a fool until the end of time. This child had more sense than you have." Reverently she placed the little daguerreotype in her handkerchief box. It was the picture she had given Bob Bucknor, the father of the present owner of Buck Hill and the grandfather of Jeff. He had prized it once but now it was thrown aside and forgotten by all.

Everything about Big Josh was loud and hearty. He was a short, fat man with a big, red face and a perfectly bald head. The Misses Bucknor were tall and aristocratic in figure and bearing. They were constantly being mortified by their father's tendency to make a noise and his unfailing habit of diverging from the strict truth.

Their formality in greeting Judith might easily have been accounted for by the fact that Big Josh Bucknor had kept the ball rolling in regard to old Dick Buck's kinship with the family. From the moment Miss Ann Peyton had made the statement that the Bucks and Bucknors were originally the same people, Big Josh had been spreading the news.

She devoutly hoped nobody had noticed it, but there was no time for repinings because one was stand-offish. Too many persons must be introduced to the debutante. Even had Mildred Bucknor been inclined to chat with her former schoolmate she would not have been allowed to do it. There were others who pressed forward to greet the fairy godchild of the old men of Ryeville.

The Clan In Conclave Mr. Bob Bucknor was troubled. He had always prided himself on keeping an open house for his relations and to him Cousin Ann was a kind of symbol of consanguinity. He paid very little attention to her as a rule, except to be scrupulously polite.

She then stooped over and gathered up the articles on the floor and carefully put them back in drawers and wardrobe. She washed her face and hands, straightened her auburn wig, changed her traveling dress to a more suitable one and then sailed majestically down the stairs. A Question of Kinship Jefferson Bucknor had been away from home, except for flying visits, for five years.

She sho' did put me in min' er my Miss Ann when she wa' a gal, the way she hilt up her haid an' jawed back at the fambly. An' she would er talked the same way if Marse Big Josh an' Marse Little Josh an' Marse Bob Bucknor theyselves had 'a' been there an' all the women folk besides. That little gal ain't feared er nobody.

"Her carriage. Wait until I finish my sentence, Mother, before you correct me," and the girl climbed on the railing of the front porch where the ladies of the Bucknor family were wont to spend the summer mornings. Clinging to one of the great fluted columns she tiptoed, trying to peer through the cloud of limestone dust that enveloped the approaching vehicle.

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