<h3>CHAPTER XXII</h3>
<h4>MERCY</h4>
<p>Ruth felt that she was not very successful at Miss Cramp's school. Not that
she had fallen behind in her studies, or failed to please her kind instructor;
but among the pupils of the upper grade she was all but unconsidered. Perhaps,
had time been given her, Ruth might have won her way with some of the
fairer-minded girls; but in the few short weeks she had been in the district
she had only managed to make enemies among the members of her own class.
</p>
<p>There was probably no girl in the graduating class, from Julia Semple and
Rosa Ball, down the line, who was not glad that the girl from the Red Mill—a
charity child!—was not numbered in the regular class and had no part in
the graduating exercises. Nevertheless, Ruth proposed, if it were possible,
to enter the Cheslow High School in the fall, and to that end she was determined
to work at her books—with Miss Cramp's help—all summer.
</p>
<p>When it came to the last day, however, and it was known that Ruth would not
come back to that school again in the autumn, the smaller girls gathered
about her and were really sorry that she was to go. Forced out of any part
with her own grade of pupils, Ruth had taken the little ones about her and
played and taught them games, had told them stories on rainy days, and otherwise
endeared herself to them. And now the little folk made much of her on this
last day, bringing her flowers, and little presents, and clinging about her
before the afternoon session began and their parents and friends came to
listen to the exercises, in a way that was very pretty to behold.
</p>
<p>Aunt Alvirah wanted to come to the closing exercises of the school; but to
expect Uncle Jabez to leave the mill in business hours for any such thing
as that was altogether ridiculous to contemplate. Uncle Jabez <i>had,</i>
however, paid some small attention to Ruth in her new dress. Before she started
for school that last day she went to the mill door and showed herself to
the miller.
</p>
<p>"Well, I don't see but you look as fine as the rest of 'em," he said, slowly.
"And the price ain't much. You used judgment in buying, Niece Ruth. I'll
say that much for ye."
</p>
<p>This being the first word of approval the miller had ever given her, the
girl appreciated it to its full value. Since he had given her the dress she
had wished more than ever to become friendly with him. But he was so moody
and so given up to his accounts and the hoarding of wealth, that it seemed
next to impossible for the girl to get near Uncle Jabez. Besides, he had
never recovered from the bitterness engendered by the loss of the cash-box.
A heavy scowl rested upon his brow all the time. Sometimes he sighed and
shook his head when he sat idle at the table, or on the porch in the evening;
and Ruth believed he must be mourning the money which the flood was supposed
to have swept away.
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"And we're going to take you home; the carriage will come for us," Helen
whispered in her ear.
</p>
<p>"No," Ruth said, shaking her head, "I cannot go home with you. You know,
Uncle—"
</p>
<p>"He <i>is</i> an ogre," whispered Helen, with vigor.
</p>
<p>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."
</p>
<p>"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!"
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>"Oh, I wish indeed she <i>was</i> going to Briarwood Hall," cried Helen.
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"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 <i>his</i> Enemy!"
</p>
<p>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;
<i>that</i> way was not the way to the cripple's heart.
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>"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 Saturday. The Doc. will
arrange about her being brought out comfortably."
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>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 Saturdays.
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"Ain't I lucky?" he cried. "Get in here, Ruthie, and I'll take you to town
in a jiffy."
</p>
<p>"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."
</p>
<p>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?"
</p>
<p>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.
</p>
<p>"And it's real summer, now," she said. "It will be hot in town. I'm so glad
Mercy is going to get out of it."
</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Tom. "Is she going to be taken away?"
</p>
<p>Ruth told him of the remarkable interest Uncle Jabez had taken in the crippled
girl. Tom could scarcely have been more surprised.
</p>
<p>"Why, the old curmudgeon has got a decent streak in him, after all; hasn't
he?" he exclaimed, rather thoughtlessly.
</p>
<p>"Don't speak that way of him, Tom," urged Ruth. "I know you've got reason
for disliking him—"
</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Tom, turning on her sharply.
</p>
<p>"Oh, I—Well, Tom, you know I believe I could easily find the man who almost
drove the team over you the night you were hurt? And you've known it all
the time, and kept still about it!"
</p>
<p>"That mean, contemptible Jasper Parloe! He's told!" gasped Tom.
</p>
<p>"Jasper Parloe told?" repeated Ruth. "Not me."
</p>
<p>"Then—"
</p>
<p>"You muttered it when they carried you to the doctor's house that night.
You said it was my uncle," said Ruth, quietly. "I have known it all along,
and so has Parloe, I suppose. He and I were the only persons who heard what
you said when you were but half conscious. You've kept still about it so
as to shield Uncle, and I thank you."
</p>
<p>Tom looked abashed; but he was angry, too. "Confound that Parloe!" he exclaimed
again. "He's been bleeding me, too! Threatened to go to my father and tell
about it—and Dad would have been pretty hot with your uncle, I expect."
</p>
<p>"It was just fine of you, Tommy," Ruth said, admiringly. "But I'd let that
Parloe tell anything he liked. Uncle Jabez never meant to run you down, I'm
sure."
</p>
<p>"I tell you what," said Tom. "I'll go to him myself and talk with him. Guess
I can do a little bargaining on my own hook. If I don't make him any trouble
about my accident, he ought to let you and Helen be spoons again. She's just
about worrying herself sick over you."
</p>
<p>"It will come right, Tom, in the end," returned Ruth, quietly, and repeating
Aunt Alvirah's favorite word of cheer. "Uncle is changed, I believe. Think
of his taking so much interest in Mercy!"
</p>
<p>"I'll see Doctor Davison," said Tom, eagerly; "and perhaps I'll bring the
sick girl out on Saturday. She ought to be very comfortable in this machine.
Helen would be glad to do something for her, too."
</p>
<p>"But you don't want to make any show of doing anything for Mercy," returned
Ruth, shaking her head as she got out before the station master's cottage.
"There she is at the window. She'll be curious about you, I've no doubt."
</p>
<p>She only ran in for a few moments to see Mercy before going on to Miss Cramp's.
</p>
<p>"That's that Cameron boy," said the crippled girl, in her sharp way. "I see
him and that sister of his whizzing through this street before in their car.
Wish it'd blow up some day when they're showing off."
</p>
<p>Ruth had got so now that she never showed surprise at Mercy's harsh speeches.
She refused to admit that she took the lame girl seriously in her ugly moods.
</p>
<p>"Now, you'd better not wish that, Mercy," she laughed. "Tom wants to take
you out to the Red Mill on Saturday in that same automobile. Uncle Jabez
is going to take the wheel chair and your baggage. You'll like riding in
the car well enough."
</p>
<p>For a moment the cripple was silent and her eyes fell before Ruth's gaze.
Suddenly the guest saw that Mercy's shoulders shook and that tears were actually
dropping from Mercy's eyes.
</p>
<p>"My dear!" she cried.
</p>
<p>"Go away!" murmured the crippled girl. "I want to be alone. I ain't never
believed," she went on, with more vigor than grammar, "that I'd ever get
out to your house. Is—is it really so that I can?"
</p>
<p>"Uncle Jabez is determined you shall come. So is Doctor Davison. So am I.
Everybody is helping. Why, Mercy, you'd have to come to the Red Mill on a
visit now, even if you didn't want to!" cried Ruth, laughing happily.</p>
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