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Updated: July 7, 2025
The Bower was not a strange place to me. My brethren of the staff used to laugh, and say that, wherever we went, in Virginia, I found kins-people. I found near and dear ones at the old house on the Opequon; and a hundred spots which recalled my lost youth. Every object carried me back to the days that are dead. The blue hills, the stream, the great oaks, and the hall smiled on me.
I jotted down a few crisp notes concerning these matters, my intention being to comment on them as evidence of an incomprehensible thrift on the part of our European kins-people; but on second thought I decided to refrain from so doing. I recalled the fact that we ourselves are not entirely free from certain petty national economies.
"In New York with Uncle Carey. He's mother's brother. Then I was in Paris at school. Mr. Patterson brought me back to Virginia. I've been here ever since." "Dear, dear! Will Watkins Lewis's child!" repeated Mrs. Marshall. "Where are all your kins-people and friends?" "I don't know 'bout kinfolks. But I have lots and lots of friends," said Anne, brightening.
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