CHAPTER XXIII

 In Olakah glen

And Mercy Curtis really came to the Red Mill.  Perhaps it was because of Doctor Davison, for it was notorious that when the good physician set out to do a thing, or to have it done, it was accomplished.

Yet in this case it seemed as though the miller himself had as much to do with the successful outcome of the plan as anybody.  He had little to say about it—­ or little to say at first to the crippled girl.  But he saw that Aunt Alvirah and Ruth had the east bedroom ready for Mercy’s occupancy before he started to town with his usual load of flour and meal on Saturday afternoon; and he was at home in good season for supper with the empty grain sacks, the fruits of his Saturday’s trading, and Mercy’s wheel chair in the wagon.  But before he returned to the Red Mill the Camerons’ big car, with Helen and Tom and the chauffeur, flashed past the Red Mill on its way to town and in a remarkably short time reappeared with Mercy sitting beside Helen in the tonneau.  Doctor Davison arrived at about the same time, too, and superintended the removal of the cripple into the house.

Mercy was as excited as she could be.  There was actually color in her face.  She was so excited that she forgot to be snappy, and thanked them all for their kindness to her.

“Into bed you go at once, Mercy,” commanded Doctor Davison; “and in the morning you may get up as early as you please—­ or as early as Ruth gets up.”  For Ruth was to sleep on the couch in the sick girl’s room during her visit to the Red Mill.

The doctor drove the Camerons away then, and adjured Mercy to be quiet, leaving her to the tender nursing of Ruth and Aunt Alvirah.  Mercy was in a mood to be friendly with everybody—­ for once.  She was delighted with Aunt Alvirah.  When Uncle Jabez arrived with the wheelchair she actually made him do errands for her and talked to him with a freedom that astonished both Ruth and Mrs. Alvirah Boggs.

“There!  I knew you’d do it, Dusty Miller,” Mercy said to the old man, tartly.  “You men are all alike—­ just as forgetful as you can be.  It’s all very well to bring this old wheelchair; but where are my two sticks?  Didn’t they give you my canes, Dusty Miller?  I assure you I have to move around a bit now and then without using this horseless carriage.  I’ve got to have something to hobble on.  I’m Goody Two-sticks, I am.  You know very well that one of my legs isn’t worth anything at all.”

“Ha!” croaked Jabez Potter, eyeing her with his usual frown, “I didn’t bring any canes; because why?  There weren’t any given me.  They’re not in the wagon.”

“My! do you always frown just like that?” demanded Mercy Curtis, in a manner which would have been impertinent in any other person, but was her natural way of speaking.  “You don’t waste your time in smiling and smirking; do you?”