proud to live if I didn't have my aches and pains—Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" as she lowered herself into her rocker.
"Where's Uncle Jabez?" cried Ruth.
"Sh!" admonished Aunt Alvirah. "Don't holler, child. You'll disturb him."
"Not sick?" whispered Ruth, in amazement.
"No—o. Not sick o' body, I reckon, child," returned Aunt Alvirah.
"What is it, Aunt Alviry? What's the matter with him?" pursued the girl, anxiously.
"He's sick o' soul, I reckon," whispered the old woman. "Sumpin's gone wrong with him. You know how Jabez is. It's money matters."
"Oh, has he been robbed again?" cried Ruth.
"Sh! not jest like that. Not like what Jasper Parloe did to him. But it's jest as bad for Jabez, I reckon. Anyway, he takes it jest as hard as he did when his cash-box was lost that time. But you know how close-mouthed he is, Ruthie. He won't talk about it."
"About what?" demanded Ruth, earnestly.
Aunt Alvirah rose with difficulty from her chair and, with her usual murmured complaint of "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" went to the door which led to the passage. Off this passage Uncle Jabez's room opened. She closed the door and hobbled back to her chair, but halted before sitting down.
