Mrs. Plowden smiled. She handed Ruth her sausages without a word, and
the young girl left the shop. Her grandmother was waiting for her in the
porch.

"What a time you have been, child!" she said. "I do hope this new school
and the scholars and all this fuss and excitement of your new life won't
turn your head. Whatever happens, you have got to be a little servant to
me and a little messenger to your grandfather. You have got to make
yourself useful, and not to have ideas beyond your station."

"Here are the sausages, granny," answered Ruth in a gentle tone.

The old lady took them from her and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Ruth--Ruth!" said a somewhat querulous but very deep voice which
evidently issued from the parlor.

"Yes, granddad; coming in a moment or two," Ruth replied. She ran up
the tiny stairs, and entered her own little bedroom, which was so wee
that she could scarcely turn round in it, but was extremely neat.

Ruth removed her hat, brushed out her black hair, saw that her dress,
shabby as it was, was in apple-pie order, put on a neat white apron, and
ran downstairs. She first of all entered the parlor. A handsome old man,
with a decided look of Ruth herself, was seated by the fire. He was
holding out his thin, knuckly hands to the blaze. As Ruth came in he
turned and smiled at her.

"Ah, deary!" he said, "I have been missing you all day. And how did you
like your school? And how is everything?"