"Why don't I do what, sir?" she responded, not without a little gulp,
for that lump would rise in her throat.

"Why don't you cry?" questioned the strange old gentleman, still
speaking softly and with that little twinkle in his eye.

"Because I am determined not to cry, sir," and now Ruth could call up
a little smile, though perhaps the corners of her mouth trembled a
bit.

The gentleman sat down beside her, although she had not invited him to
do so. She was not at all afraid of him and, after all, perhaps she
was glad to have him do it.

"Tell me all about it," he suggested, with such an air of confidence
and interest that Ruth warmed more and more toward him.

But it was a little hard to begin. When he told her, however, that he
was going to Cheslow, too-- indeed, that that was his home-- it was
easier by far.

"I am Doctor Davison, my dear," he said. "If you are going to live in
Cheslow you will hear all about Doctor Davison, and you would better
know him at first-hand, to avoid mistakes," and his eyes twinkled more
than ever, though his stern mouth never relaxed.

"I expect that my new home is some little way outside of Cheslow,"
Ruth said, timidly. "They call it the Red Mill."

The humorous light faded out of the dark, bright eyes of the