They must have gotten word in some irregular manner, and the woman held her blue-bonneted head with a cant of war, which Ann knew well of old.
For a little while there was silence, except for Paulina Maria's heavy tramp and the soft shuffle of Belinda Lamb's cloth shoes out in the kitchen.

They were hurrying to get the supper in readiness.
Another appetizing odor was now stealing over the house, the odor of baking cream-of-tartar biscuits.
Suddenly, with one accord, as if actuated by one mental impulse, the little woman, the large man, and the three girls arose and advanced upon Ann Edwards.

She grasped the arm of her chair hard, as if bracing herself to meet a shock.
The little woman spoke.

Her eyes seemed full of black sparks, her voice shook, red spots flamed out in her cheeks.

"We'll bid you good-bye now, Cousin Ann," said she.
"Ain't you going to stay and have some supper ?" asked Ann.