"Mercy is-- Why, who's this?" she asked espying Ruth. "One of the
girls come in to see her?"

Instantly the same whining, shrill voice began:

"I don't want her to see me! They come to stare at me! I hate 'em all!
All girls do is to run and jump and play tag and ring-around-a-rosy
and run errands, and dance! I hate 'em!"

This was said very, very fast-- almost chattered; and it sounded so
ill-natured, so impatient, so altogether mean and hateful, that Ruth
fell back a step, almost afraid to enter the pleasant room. But then
she saw the white-haired lady's face, and it was so grieved, yet
looked such a warm welcome to her, that she took heart and stepped
farther in, so that Sam Curtis could shut the door,

The father appeared to pay no attention to the fault-finding, shrill
declamation of the unhappy voice. He said, in explanation, to his
wife:

"This is Ruth Fielding. She has come a long. way by train to-day,
expecting to meet her uncle, old Jabe Potter of the Red Mill. And you
know how funny Jabe is, wife? He came before the train, and did not
wait, but drove right away with his mules and so there was nobody here
to meet Ruthie. She's marooned here till the morning, you see."

"Then she shall stay with us to-night," declared Mrs. Curtis, quickly.

"I don't want her to stay here to-night!" ejaculated the same shrill
voice.