"But you must not hide the key of the meat-house, Uncle," and now Ruth laughed outright at him. "Four people at table means a depletion of your smoked meat and a dipping occasionally into the corned-beef barrel."
"Wal——"
"Now, if I pay the girl's wages, you must supply the food," his niece said, firmly, "Otherwise, Aunt Alvirah will go without help, and then she will break down, and then——"
"Huh!" grunted the miller. "I couldn't let her go back to the poorfarm, I s'pose?"
He actually made it a question; but Ruth could not see his face, for he had turned aside.
"No. She could not return to the poorhouse—after fifteen years!" exclaimed the girl. "Do you know what I should do?" and she asked the question warmly.
"Somethin' fullish, I allow."
"I should take her to Ardmore with me, and find a tiny cottage for her, and maybe she would keep house for Helen and me."
"That'd be jest like ye, Niece Ruth," he responded coolly. "You think you have all the money in the world. That's because ye didn't aim what ye got—it was give to ye."
The statement was in large part true, and for the moment Ruth's lips were closed. Tears stood in her eyes, too. She realized that she could not be independent of the old miller had not chance and kind-hearted and grateful Mrs. Rachel Parsons given her the bulk of the amount now deposited in her name in the bank.