faint She could not understand it. Awhite dress! And she to make her choice alone, without regard tomaterial, or price! She could have been no more stunned had UncleJabez suddenly run mad and been caught by the authorities and sent toan asylum.
But the shop woman awoke her, having asked her twice what kind ofwhite goods she wanted to see. The repeated query brought Ruth to hersenses. She put the astonishing fact that Uncle Jabez had done this,behind her, and remembered at once the importance of the task beforeher.
She had not listened to the talk of the other girls at school fornothing. She knew just what was the most popular fabric that seasonfor simple white dresses that could be "done up" when soiled. She hadeven found the style of a dress she liked in a fashion magazine thatone of the girls had had at school. Ruth was self-posessed at once.She went about her shopping as carefully and with as little haste asthough she had been buying for herself for years; whereas this was thevery first frock that she had ever been allowed to have the choice of.
There were costlier goods, and some of the girls of the graduatingclass were to have them; but Ruth chose something so durable and at solow a price that she hoped Uncle Jabez would not be sorry for hisgenerosity. She saw the goods, and lace, and buttons, and all therest, made up into a neat package and sent across to the other counterwith the bill, and then went out of the store and up Market Streettoward the railroad.
She saw Uncle Jabez nowhere, or she would have run to him to thank himfor the present. And she had been in Mercy Curtis' front window forquite an hour before the mules turned the corner into the street andthe wagon rattled up to the house and stopped.
"And is that ugly old man your uncle?" demanded Mercy, who had beenless crusty and exacting herself on this occasion.
"That is Uncle Jabez;" admitted Ruth, hastening to put on her hat.
"He is an ugly one; isn't he? I'd like to know him, I would," declaredthe odd child. "He ain't one that's always smirking and smiling, I betyou!"
"He isn't given much to smiling, I must admit," laughed Ruth, stoopingto kiss the crippled girl.
"There! Go along with you," said Mercy, sharply. "You tell that ugly,dusty man--Dusty Miller, that's what he is--that I'm coming out tothe Red Mill, whether he wants me to or not."
And when Ruth got out upon the street Mercy had her window open andcried through the opening, shaking her little fist the while:
"Remember! You tell Dusty Miller what I told you! I'm coming outthere."
"What's the matter with that young one?" growled Uncle Jabez, as Ruthclimbed aboard and the mules started at a trot before she was reallyseated beside him.
Ruth told him, smiling, that Mercy had taken a fancy to his looks, anda fancy, too, to the Red Mill from her description of it. "She wantsvery much to come out there this summer--if she can be moved thatfar."
Then Ruth tried to thank the miller for the frock--which bundle shesaw carefully placed among the other packages in the body of thewagon--but Uncle Jabez listened very grumpily to her broken words.
"I don't know how to thank you, sir; for of all the things I wantedmost, I believe this is the very first thing," Ruth said, stumblingly."I really don't know how to thank you."
"Don't try, then," he growled, but without looking at her. "I reckonyou can thank Alviry Boggs as much as anybody. She says I owed it toyou."
"Oh, Uncle--"
"There, there! I don't wanter hear no more about it," declared themiller. But after they had rattled on for a while in silence, he said,pursuing the former topic: "There ain't no reason, I s'pose, why thatgal can't come out an' see you bimeby, if you want her to."
"Oh, thank you, Uncle Jabez!" cried Ruth, feeling as though somethingvery strange indeed must have happened to the miller to make him soagreeable. And she tried to be chatty and pleasant with him for therest of the way home. But Uncle Jabez was short on conversation--heseemed to have hoarded that up, too, and was unable to get at hisstores of small-talk. Most of his observations were mere grunts andnods, and that evening he was just as glum and silent as ever over hismoney and accounts.
Miss 'Cretia Lock arrived early on Monday morning and when Ruth camehome from school in the afternoon the wonderful dress was cut out.They made it in two days and Aunt Alvirah washed and starched andironed it herself and it was ready for appearance on the last Fridayafternoon of the term, when the district school held its graduatingexercises.
CHAPTER XXII
MERCY
Ruth felt that she was not very successful at Miss Cramp's school. Notthat she had fallen behind in her studies, or failed to please herkind instructor; but among the pupils of the upper grade she was allbut unconsidered. Perhaps, had time been given her, Ruth might havewon her way with some of the fairer-minded girls; but in the few shortweeks she had been in the district she had only managed to makeenemies among the members of her own class.
There was probably no girl in the graduating class, from Julia Sempleand Rosa Ball, down the line, who was not glad that the girl from theRed Mill--a charity child!--was not numbered in the regular classand had no part in the graduating exercises. Nevertheless, Ruthproposed, if it were possible, to enter the Cheslow High School in thefall, and to that end she was determined to work at her books--withMiss Cramp's help--all summer.
When it came to the last day, however, and it was known that Ruthwould not come back to that school again in the autumn, the smallergirls 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 takenthe little ones about her and played and taught them games, had toldthem stories on rainy days, and otherwise endeared herself to them.And now the little folk made much of her on this last day, bringingher flowers, and little presents, and clinging about her before theafternoon session began and their parents and friends came to listento the exercises, in a way that was very pretty to behold.
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 anysuch thing as that was altogether ridiculous to contemplate. UncleJabez had, however, paid some small attention to Ruth in her newdress. Before she started for school that last day she went to themill door and showed herself to the miller.
"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, NieceRuth. I'll say that much for ye."
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 thedress she had wished more than ever to become friendly with him. Buthe was so moody and so given up to his accounts and the hoarding ofwealth, that it seemed next to impossible for the girl to get nearUncle Jabez. Besides, he had never recovered from the bitternessengendered by the loss of the cash-box. A heavy scowl rested upon hisbrow all the time. Sometimes he sighed and shook his head when he satidle at the table, or on the porch in the evening; and Ruth believedhe must be mourning the money which the flood was supposed to haveswept away.
But although neither of the old folks at the Red Mill came to see thegraduating exercises, Ruth was not exactly unhappy. The littlechildren showing her that they liked her so well, could not fail to bea 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. Youknow, Uncle--"
"He is an ogre," whispered Helen, with vigor.
That made Ruth smile a little, and she told Helen what Mercy Curtiscalled the owner of the Red Mill, and of the fancy the lame girl hadtaken for Uncle Jabez. "He is 'Dusty Miller' to Mercy, and I shouldn'tbe surprised if Uncle Jabez had her out for a day or two, if thedoctor 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, sharpl
y. "Not but thatthe dress is becoming and pretty, dear. But that's the only thing he'sever given you, I warrant--and he lost your trunk!"
The Camerons insisted upon driving Ruth as far as the Red Mill, justthe same. Mrs. Murchiston was a very pleasant lady, and Helen and Tomevidently 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 fortunateenough to be able to go with Helen this fall. You have just thecharacteristics in your nature to balance dear Helen's impetuosity."
"Oh, I wish indeed she was going to Briarwood Hall," cried Helen.
"I shall be