But the face of the old lady seemed, to the lonely, tear-filled girl, almost the gentlest, sweetest face she had ever seen, as it slowly smiled upon her.  Aunt Alviry’s welcome was like the daybreak.

“Bless us and save us!” ejaculated she, rising upright by degrees with her hand upon the back she had been apostrophizing.  “If here isn’t a pretty little creeter come to see her Aunt Alviry.  How-de-do, girl?”

Ruth had set down her bag.  Now she opened the door and stepped in.  The smile of the old lady broke down every bit of fortitude the girl had left and she walked directly into Aunt Alviry’s arms and burst into tears.

“There! there!  Deary, deary me!” murmured the little old lady, patting her shoulder.  “Somebody has been treating you badly, I know.  And you’ve come right to your Aunt Alviry for comfort.  And you’ve come to the right place, my pretty girl, for I’ve got tons of comfort for ye.”

She found a chair and lowered herself into it, not without the formula which Ruth had heard before, of “Oh, my back and oh, my bones!” Ruth dropped on her knees before her, hid her face in the old lady’s lap, and had her cry out.  Meanwhile Aunt Alvirah seemed to have taken in several things about her guest that were significant.  She touched the stuff of which Ruth’s gown was made, and nodded; even the black hair-ribbon did not go unnoticed.

“Now,” said Ruth, rising after a few moments, “I guess that’s all of that foolishness.  I—­ I don’t usually cry, Aunt Alvirah.”

“Pshaw, now!  I could tell that,” said the old lady, comfortably.

“I am going right to work to help you,” said the girl.  “I can stoop better than you can.”

“I expect you can, you pretty creeter,” admitted the old lady.

Ruth had already taken the brush and pan and was at work upon the floor.  The lady said:  “You ain’t familiar to me, child.  You’ve lost some folks lately, I see.  Do you live ’round here?”

The little girl stopped and looked up at her in surprise.  “Why, don’t you know about it?” she cried.

“Know about what, child?”

“Didn’t you know I had come here to live with you?”

“Bless us and save us!” ejaculated Aunt Alvirah.  “How did that happen?”

“Didn’t my uncle tell you?” cried Ruth, much more surprised than the old lady.

“Who’s your uncle, child?”

“Why, Mr. Potter—­ Uncle Jabez.”

So astonished did the old lady appear to be that she started from her chair and her ejaculation was changed to a moan of pain as she murmured her old formula:  “Oh, my back and oh, my bones!”

“Jabez ain’t said a word to me about it.  Why should he take anybody to help me?  Is he struck with the fear o’ his latter end?”

She said this in no cross-grained way, but because she was so amazed.  She likewise stared harder and harder at her visitor.

“You ain’t come from the poor farm, child?” she asked, finally.