“Through me?” growled the miller, raising his countenance and scowling at the brave old woman— for it took courage for Aunt Alvirah to speak to him in this way.
“Helen Cam’ron wouldn’t have been called on to give Ruthie her frocks which she only wore last year, and outgrew, if you hadn’t lost Ruthie’s trunk. Ye know that, Jabez,” urged Aunt Alvirah.
“I s’pose I’m never to hear the last of that!” stormed the miller.
“You are still to hear the first word from Ruthie about it, Jabez,” admonished his housekeeper.
“Well!”
“Well,” repeated Aunt Alvirah, still speaking quietly but earnestly. “You know it ain’t my way to interfere in your affairs, Jabez. But right is right. It was you lost Ruthie’s trunk. I never knew ye ter be dishonest—”
“What’s that?” gasped Mr. Potter, the red mantling his gray cheek dully.
“I never knew ye ter do a dishonest thing afore, Jabez,” pursued Aunt Alvirah, with her voice shaking now. “But it’s dishonest for ye to never even perpose ter make good what ye lost. If you’d lost a sack of grain for a neighbor ye’d made it up to him; wouldn’t ye?”
“What’s thet gotter do with a lot of foolish fal-lals an’ rigamagigs belonging to a gal that I’ve taken in—”
“To help us. And she does help us,” declared the old woman, quickly. “She more’n airns her keep, Jabez. Ye know she does.”
“Well!” grunted the miller again, but he actually looked somewhat abashed and dropped his gaze to the ledger.
“Well, then, Jabez Potter,” said the old housekeeper, “you think it over— think it over, Jabez. And as sure as my name’s Alviry Boggs, if you do think it over, something will come of it!”
This seemed like a rather mysterious saying, and there seemed to be nothing for the miller to observe in answer to it. Ruth had ere this dried her eyes and it was soon bedtime. It is a long time from Friday night to Monday morning— especially to young folk. The hurt that Ruth had felt over Julia Semple’s unkind words had lost its keenness in Ruth’s mind ere school began again. So Ruth took up her school duties quite as usual, wearing one of the pretty frocks in which, however, she could no longer take such pride and delight.
There was really nothing for her to do but wear them. She realized that. She felt, however, that whenever any girl looked at her she remembered that it was Helen Cameron’s cast-off dress she wore; so she was glad that the big girls were no more friendly than before and that they seldom looked at her.
Besides, all the school was very busy now. In a fortnight would came graduation. About all Ruth heard at recess and between sessions, even among the smaller girls, was the discussion of what they were to wear on the last day of the term. It was a great day at this school, and Miss Cramp was to graduate from her care seven pupils— four girls and three boys— all of whom would go to the Cheslow High the coming year. Ruth would not be ready to graduate; but before fall, if she was faithful to the tasks Miss Cramp set her, that kind teacher assured the girl from the Red Mill that she would be able to enter the higher school with this graduating class.