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handmade French drawers with lace-edged ruffles, and also what she called "a blue poky-dot foulard dress with an overskirt of Georgette crepe." Grandpa like to had a fit about her spending the money, but after she cried, he let her alone about it. The only thing not fashionable about Aunt Loma was her bosom.
    She was so flat you didn't have to be big to be bigger, and Miss Love Simpson was definitely bigger. At some point Miss Love made the mistake of remarking that Loma had just the perfect figure for the stylish new shirtwaists with lots of tucks and ruffles in front. That was because of Loma's flat busts, so though it was meant as a compliment, she was insulted. She hadn't had much to do with Miss Love since, especially not after one Saturday when she wanted to buy a little blue hat with white bird wings on it that Miss Love was wearing and didn't want to sell. I heard what was said because I was down at the store washing fly spots off the show window.
    "You've sold hats off your head before," Aunt Loma argued, pushing out her bottom lip.

    "I know," Miss Love answered sweetly. "But I made this hat special to go with this dress. Let me fix up something else for you."
    Aunt Loma's face flushed red as her hair, she was so mad, and she flounced off acting like a store-owner's daughter to a hired hand. "I must say, Love Simpson," she hissed, "you'd do well to quit thinking you're good as your betters!"
    As they say in Cold Sassy, Aunt Loma was behind the door when they passed out the tact. And her temper was such that if King Edward VII or the Lord God Almighty Himself had been around when she got mad, she wouldn't of talked any less awful. In fact, she'd of been glad of the extra audience.
    I just couldn't stand Aunt Loma. As long as I could remember, she'd bossed me like I was her slave. She was only six years older than me, for gosh sake, which to my mind didn't give her any right to lord it over me like she was a hundred. God help Miss Love Simpson if she really had gone off and married Grandpa against her will—against Aunt Loma's will, I mean. I hoped Miss Love understood what she was up against. I could of told her, because I had been up against Aunt Loma all my life.

    There were some people in Cold Sassy who called Miss Love "that Yankee woman" or made fun of her for being a suffragette. Not a man in town thought it mattered a hoot about women voting, and only two ladies went to the first women's suffrage meeting Miss Love set up. Either nobody else was interested or their husbands wouldn't let them come, one. After that meeting, most folks felt a little uneasy about Miss Love. Still and all, just about everybody liked her.
    The men liked her because she was pretty and friendly and, as Mr. Cratic Flournoy put it, full of ginger and pepper.
    The ladies liked her because she made hats that could of come straight out of New York City. Also, she had a pattern book of the newest styles and would order patterns for anybody who wanted her to, and she showed the ladies how to fix their hair fashionable.
    The congregation at the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, liked her because her piano-playing was loud and lively. Ever
since Miss Love started playing for preachin', folks had sung out good, patting their feet and generally getting in shape to shout and amen during the sermon.

    Just the same, Cold Sassy thought it was one thing to like Miss Love and another thing entirely to marry her. Especially if your wife died just three weeks ago.

5
    A S M AMA EXPECTED , there wasn't anybody in Cold Sassy who didn't wonder if Grandpa hadn't been sweet on the milliner a long time, and maybe was relieved to get shet of Miss Mattie Lou so he could marry Miss Love.

    For sure Miss Love wasn't a bit like Granny, except they were both feisty. Granny always wore her skimpy gray hair pulled straight back behind her ears and fastened in a ball. I never saw a frill or ribbon on her and I figured she had never been pretty. She told me that