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The household work slipped back into Aunt Dolcey's faithful hands, save now and then when Annie felt more buoyant and instinct with life and energy than she had ever felt before. Then she would weed her garden or churn and print a dozen rolls of butter with a keen and vivid delight in her activity.
That's what comes of marrying a farmer. Farm work don't even wait on a bride, not even the prettiest bride in the world." He stooped to kiss her, and she held tight to his arm. "I don't mind. You go on about your business and I'll get all unpacked and settled. But don't be late to supper Aunt Dolcey's making us a wedding cake."
"Aunt Dolcey's not so awful big; not any bigger'n you, but heavier set, like." There is a distinct advance in friendly intimacy when one has one's size considered in relation to a customer's needs, particularly when the consideration shows how little a man knows about women's garments. The girl reached beneath the counter and brought up an armful of blue-and-white-checked aprons.
Aunt Dolcey did he ever strike you?" "Oncet." "Oh, Aunt Dolcey, what did you do?" Something flared in Aunt Dolcey's eyes that was as old as her race. She looked past Annie as if she saw something she rather relished; just so her ancestors must have looked when they were dancing before a bloodstained Congo fetish.
He laid a rough, restraining hand on her shoulder. At that touch the first harshness she had ever felt from him something hot and flaming leaped through her. She whirled away from him and caught up Aunt Dolcey's big sharp butcher knife lying on the table; lifted it. "You put your hands on me like that again and I'll kill you!" Her voice was not high and shrill now; she did not even raise it.
He and Aunt Dolcey were having their own dinner at the kitchen table. "This here's Unc' Zenas," said Wesley. "He's Aunt Dolcey's husband, and helps me on the place." And again Annie saw, this time in the old man's eyes, the flicker of sympathy and apprehension that she had marked in Aunt Dolcey's. "And right glad to welcome y', Missy," said Unc' Zenas.
Don't let me hear another word out of you!" Unc' Zenas turned away and Wes, without a word or look at the two women, strode after him. Annie, shaken, caught Aunt Dolcey's arm. "Oh, Aunt Dolcey," she breathed, "what on earth was the matter?" Aunt Dolcey drew her into the kitchen. "Nuffin' but Marse Wes flyin' int' one his bad Dean temper fits, honey," said the old woman "No use to min' him.
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