rstood that she was out of her place, and
retreated to the kitchen with a flush upon her cheeks, which was
altogether foreign to Ruth's experience.

"You can set here, James," resumed Mrs. Ball, "until I have taken off my
things."

The cherries on her black straw bonnet were shaking on their stems in a
way which fascinated Ruth. "I'll take my things out of the south room,
Aunty," she hastened to say.

"You won't, neither," was the unexpected answer; "that's the spare room,
and, while you stay, you'll stay there."

Ruth was wondering what to say to her new uncle and sat in awkward
silence as Aunt Jane ascended the stairs. Her step sounded lightly
overhead and Mr. Ball twirled his thumbs absently. "You--you've come a
long way, haven't you?" she asked.

"Yes'm, a long way." Then, seemingly for the first time, he looked at
her, and a benevolent expression came upon his face. "You've got awful
pretty hair, Niece Ruth," he observed, admiringly; "now Mis' Ball, she
wears a false front."

The lady of the house returned at this juncture, with the false front a
little askew. "I was just a-sayin'," Mr. Ball continued, "that our niece
is a real pleasant lookin' woman."

"She's your niece by marriage," his wife replied, "but she ain't no real
relative."

"Niece by merriage is relative enough," said Mr.Ball, "and I say she's a
pleasant lookin' woman, ain't she, now?"

"She'll do, I reckon. She resembles her Ma." Aunt Jane looked at Ruth,
as if pitying the sister who had blindly followed the leadings of her
heart and had died unforgiven.

"Why didn't you let me know you were coming, Aunt Jane?" asked Ruth.
"I've been looking for a letter every day and I understood you weren't
coming back until October."

"I trust I am not unwelcome in my own house," was the somewhat frigid
response.

"No indeed, Aunty--I hope you've had a pleasant time."

"We've had a beautiful time, ain't we, James? We've been on our
honeymoon."

"Yes'm, we hev been on our honeymoon, travellin' over strange lands an'
furrin wastes of waters. Mis' Ball was terrible sea sick comin' here."

"In a way," said Aunt Jane, "we ain't completely married. We was
married by a heathen priest in a heathen country and it ain't rightfully
bindin', but we thought it would do until we could get back here and be
married by a minister of the gospel, didn't we, James?"

"It has held," he said, without emotion, "but I reckon we will hev to be
merried proper."

"Lik