The flush upon Ruth’s cheek and the expression which came into her face told Aunt Alviry that she was wrong there.

“Not that you look like poorhouse breed—­ not at all.  You’re too pretty dressed and you’re too well fed.  I know what they be there, for I have been there myself.  Yes, ma’am!  Jabez Potter came after me to the poor farm.  I was sickly, too.  There’s them that said he went to Doctor Davison first to find out if I was goin’ to git well before he come arter me; but Jabez ain’t never treated me noways but kind.  Starn he is—­ by natur and by practice; an’ clost he is in money matters.  But he’s been good to an old woman without a home who warn’t neither kith nor kin to him.”

Ruth listened to the first good word she had heard of Uncle Jabez, and the speech comforted her somewhat.  Perhaps there was something better within the rough husk of Uncle Jabez, after all.

“I did not live near here,” Ruth said, quietly.  “But my papa and mama did.  I came from Darrowtown.”

Aunt Alviry opened wide her bright brown eyes, and still stared in wonder.

“My mother’s name was Mary Potter, and she was Mr. Potter’s niece.  So he is my great-uncle.”

“Bless us and save us!” ejaculated Aunt Alviry, again, shaking her head.  “I never heard a word of it—­ never!  I ’member Mary Potter, and a sweet, pretty child she was.  But Jabez never had no fondness for any of his kin.  You—­ you are all alone in the world, child?”

“All alone save for Uncle Jabez.”

She had come near to the old woman again.  As she dropped quietly on her knees Aunt Alviry gathered her head close to her bosom; but Ruth did not weep any more.  She only said: 

“I know I shall love you very, very much, dear Aunt Alvirah.  And I hope I shall help your back and your bones a great deal, too!”

CHAPTER VIII

 Hoarding up:  Passions—­ money—­ water

This was Ruth Fielding’s introduction to the Red Mill, its occupants, and its surroundings.  The spot was, indeed, beautiful, and an hour after she had arrived she knew that she would love it.  The Lumano River was a wide stream and from the little window of the chamber that Aunt Alviry said would be her own, she could look both up and down the river for several miles.

Uncle Jabez had a young man to help him in the mill.  It was true, Aunt Alviry said, that Jasper Parloe had worked for some time at the Red Mill; but he was quarrelsome and Mr. Potter had declared he was not honest.  When the mill owner was obliged to be absent and people had come to have corn or wheat ground, paying for the milling instead of giving toll, Jasper had sometimes kept the money instead of turning it over to Mr. Potter.  This had finally resulted in a quarrel between the two, and Mr. Potter had discharged Parloe without paying him for his last month’s work.