Part 21 (1/2)

But although neither of the old folks at the Red Mill came to see the graduating exercises, Ruth was not exactly unhappy. The little children showing her that they liked her so well, could not fail to be a lasting pleasure to Ruth. And Helen and Tom, with their governess, Mrs. Murchiston, attended the exercises, and Helen sat with Ruth.

”And we're going to take you home; the carriage will come for us,”

Helen whispered in her ear.

”No,” Ruth said, shaking her head, ”I cannot go home with you. You know, Uncle--”

”He is an ogre,” whispered Helen, with vigor.

That made Ruth smile a little, and she told Helen what Mercy Curtis called the owner of the Red Mill, and of the fancy the lame girl had taken for Uncle Jabez. ”He is 'Dusty Miller' to Mercy, and I shouldn't be surprised if Uncle Jabez had her out for a day or two, if the doctor will let her come. And you mustn't call him names, I tell you.

See how good he has been to me. He gave me this new dress.”

”That must have hurt him awfully,” said Helen, sharply. ”Not but that the dress is becoming and pretty, dear. But that's the only thing he's ever given you, I warrant--and he lost your trunk!”

The Camerons insisted upon driving Ruth as far as the Red Mill, just the same. Mrs. Murchiston was a very pleasant lady, and Helen and Tom evidently thought a good deal of her.

”I should have been glad to have you for Helen's playmate this summer, my dear,” said the governess to Ruth. ”And I wish you were fortunate enough to be able to go with Helen this fall. You have just the characteristics in your nature to balance dear Helen's impetuosity.”

”Oh, I wish indeed she was going to Briarwood Hall,” cried Helen.

”I shall be satisfied if the way is opened for me to go to high school,” Ruth declared, smiling. ”Uncle has said nothing against it, and I shall begin next week walking in to Miss Cramp's to recite.”

Helen asked very minutely about Ruth's plans for going to Cheslow to recite, and the very first day of the next week, when the girl of the Red Mill started for town, who should overtake her within half a mile of the mill, but Helen and her governess going to Cheslow on a shopping errand, and drawn by Tubby, the pony. Of course, there was room for Ruth in the phaeton, and Helen and Mrs. Murchiston remained in town as long as Ruth did and brought her back with them. Ruth had time to run in and see Mercy Curtis.

”I'm coming out to the Red Mill, so now!” declared the lame girl. ”I asked Doctor Davison, and he says yes. And if he says so, that uncle of yours, Dusty Miller, will have to let me. Folks have to do as Doctor Davison says, you know. And your uncle--isn't he just an ugly dear? Does he look just that cross all the time? I bet he never forgives his Enemy!”

This novel reason for liking Uncle Jabez would have been amusing had there not been a serious side to it. This odd child, with her warped and twisted fancies, was to be pitied, and Ruth secretly pitied her with all her heart. But she was careful now not to show Mercy that she commiserated her condition; that way was not the way to the cripple's heart.

Nevertheless, being a little less afraid of Uncle Jabez than she once was, that very evening she mentioned Mercy's desire to him. Uncle Jabez never smiled, but it could be said that his face relaxed when she called up the memory of Sam Curtis' crippled daughter.

”Yes; why not?” rejoined Aunt Alvirah. ”Have the poor leetle creetur out here, Jabez. She'll be no bother to you. And she kin sleep with Ruthie.”

”How'll she get up and down stairs?” demanded the miller, quite surprising Ruth and Aunt Alvirah by considering this phase of the matter. ”You'll have to open the East bedroom, Alviry.”

”Jest as you say, Jabez,” answered the old woman, very meekly, but her bright eyes sparkling as she glanced aside at Ruth. ”She kin roll herself in her chair in and out of that room, and onto the porch.”

”I'll see Doc. Davison when he drives by to-morrer,” promised Uncle Jabez, with his usual bruskness. ”If he says it's all right, she can come. I'll bring her chair and her luggage out in the wagon on Sat.u.r.day. The Doc. will arrange about her being brought out comfortably.”

All this was so amazing that Ruth could not speak. Except when he had been angry, or at the time his cash-box was lost when the flood came down the river, she had never heard Uncle Jabez make so long a speech.

Aunt Alvirah was no person with whom she could discuss this great change in the miller; and when Doctor Davison was hailed by Mr. Potter the next day and stopped at the mill for quite half an hour to confer with him, Ruth was still more amazed.

Every other day Ruth was to go to town, if it was fair. Uncle Jabez made no comment upon her absence; nor did he put himself out in the least to arrange for any means of transportation for his niece. He seldom went to Cheslow himself, save on Sat.u.r.days.

Ruth's next trip to Miss Cramp's was on a very hot day indeed. There was a glare of hot sun on the long hill and just enough fitful breeze to sift the road-dust all over her as she walked. But--and how fortunate that was!--before she had gone far the purring of a motor-car engine aroused her attention and Tom Cameron ran along beside her in his father's auto and stopped.

”Ain't I lucky?” he cried. ”Get in here, Ruthie, and I'll take you to town in a jiffy.”

”I'm the lucky one, I think,” said Ruth, smiling in return as she slipped into the seat beside him. ”And I almost believe, Tommy Cameron, that you knew I was starting for town and came along just to give me a lift.”

He grinned at her. ”Don't you think you're mighty important?” he teased. ”Suppose I haven't anything else to think about but you girls?”

Just the same, Ruth stuck to this belief. But she had to confess that she was glad of the ride to town. It would have been very, very hot in the sun and dust.