Ruth, and Ruth took to her. And when Ruth
went home, they used to be a writin' backwards and forads; and I guess
the fact was, Ruth thought about as much of your Aunt Lois as she did o'
anybody. Ye see, your aunt was a kind o' strong up-and-down woman that
always knew certain jest what she did know; and Ruth, she was one o'
them gals that seems sort o' like a stray lamb or a dove that's sort o'
lost their way in the world, and wants some one to show 'em where to go
next. For, ye see, the fact was, the old Gineral and Madam, they
didn't agree very well. He wa'n't well pleased that she didn't have no
children; and she was sort o' jealous o' him 'cause she got hold o' some
sort of story about how he was to a married somebody else over there in
England: so she got sort o' riled up, jest as wim-men will, the best on
'em; and they was pretty apt to have spats, and one could give t'other
as good as they sent; and, by all accounts, they fit putty lively
sometimes. And, between the two, Ruth she was sort o' scared, and
fluttered like a dove that didn't know jest where to settle. Ye see,
there she was in; that 'are great wide house, where they was a feastin'
and a prancin' and a dancin', and a goin' on like Ahashuerus and
Herodias and all them old Scripture days. There was acomin' and goin,'
and there was gret dinners and gret doin's, but no love; and, you know,
the Scriptur' says, 'Better is a dinner o' yarbs, where love is, than a
stalled ox, and hatred therewith.'

"Wal, I don't orter say _hatred_, arter all. I kind o' reckon, the old
Gineral did the best he could: the fact is, when a woman gits a kink
in her head agin a man, the best on us don't allers do jest the right
thing.

"Any way, Ruth, she was sort o' forlorn, and didn't seem to take no
comfort in the goin's on. The Gineral he was mighty fond on her,
and proud on her; and there wa'n't nothin' too good for Ruth. He was
free-handed, the Gineral wuz. He dressed her up in silks and satins, and
she hed a maid to wait on her, and she hed sets o' pearl and dimond; and
Madam Sullivan she thought all the world on her, and kind o' worshipped
the ground she trod on. And yet Ruth was sort o' lonesome.

"Ye see, Ruth wa'n't calculated for grande'r. Some folks ain't.

"Why, that 'are summer she spent out to Old Town, she was jest as chirk
and chipper as a wren, a wearin' her little sun-bunnet, and goin' a
huckle-berryin' and a black-berryin' and diggin' sweet-flag, and gettin
c