“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.”