CHAPTER IV
A TIME OF CHANGE
Tom Cameron looked funny enough in some of the miller's garments; but hewas none the worse for his bath in the river. He, too, had been dosed withhot tea by Aunt Alvirah, though he made a wry face over it.
"Never you mind, boy," Ruth told him, laughing. "It is better to have abad taste in your mouth for a little while than a sore throat for a week."
"Hear! hear the philosopher!" cried Tom. "You'd think I was a tenderlittle blossom."
"You know, you _might_ have the croup," suggested Ruth, wickedly.
"Croup! What am I--a kid?" demanded Tom, half angry at this suggestion. Hehad begun to notice that his sister and Ruth were inclined to set him downas a "small boy" nowadays.
"How is it," Tom asked his father one day, "that Helen is all grown up ofa sudden? _I'm_ not! Everybody treats me just as they always have; buteven Colonel Post takes off his hat to our Helen on the street withoverpowering politeness, and the other men speak to her as though she wereas old as Mrs. Murchiston. It gets _me_!"
Mr. Cameron laughed; but he sighed thereafter, too. "Our little Helen _is_growing up, I expect. She's taken a long stride ahead of you, Tommy, whileyou've been asleep."
"Huh! I'm just as old as she is," growled Tom. "But _I_ don't feel grownup."
And here was Ruth Fielding holding the same attitude toward him that histwin did! Tom did not like it a bit. He was a manly fellow and had alwaysobserved a protective air with Ruth and his sister. And, all of a sudden,they had become young ladies while he was still a boy.
"I wish Nell would come back with my duds," he grumbled. "I have a goodmind to walk home in these things of the miller's."
"And be taken for an animated scarecrow on the way?" laughed Ruth. "Better'bide a wee,' Tommy. Sister will get here with your rompers pretty soon.Have patience."
"Now you talk just like Bobbins' sister. Behave, will you?" complainedTom.
Ruth tripped out of the room to peep at the guest, and Aunt Alvirahhobbled in and, letting herself down into her low chair, with a groan of"Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" smiled indulgently at Tom's gloomy face.
"What is the matter, Mister Tom?" she asked. "Truly, you look as colickyas Amos Dodge--an' they do say he lived on sour apples!"
Tom had to laugh at this; but it was rather a rueful laugh. "I don't knowwhat is coming over these girls--Ruth and my sister," he said, "They'rebeginning to put on airs like grown ladies. Cracky! they used to be somefun."
"Growin' up, Mister Tom--growin' up. So's my pretty. I hate to see it, butye can't fool Natur'--no, sir! Natur' says to these young things:'Advance!' an' they've jest got to march, I reckon," and Aunt Alvirahsighed, too. Then her little, bird-like eyes twinkled suddenly and shechuckled. "Jest the same," she added, in a whisper, "Ruth got out all herdoll-babies the other day and played with 'em jest like she was ten yearsold."
"Ho, ho!" cried Tom, his face clearing up. "I guess she's only makingbelieve to be grown up, after all!"
Helen came finally and they left Tom alone in the kitchen to change hisclothes. Then the Camerons hurried away, for it was close to supper time.Both Helen and Tom were greatly interested in the moving picture actress;but she had fallen into a doze and they could not bid her good-bye.
"But I'm going to run down in the morning to see how she is," Tomannounced. "I'll see her before she goes away. She's a plucky one, allright!"
"Humph!" thought Ruth, when the automobile had gone, "Tom seems to havebeen wonderfully taken with that Miss Gray's appearance."
When Jabez Potter came in from the mill and found the strange girl in thebest bed he was inclined to criticize. He was a tall, dusty, old man, forwhom it seemed a hard task ever to speak pleasantly. Aunt Alvirah, whenshe was much put out with him, said he "croaked like a raven!"
"Gals, gals, gals!" he grumbled. "This house seems to be nigh full of 'emwhen you air to home, Niece Ruth."
"And empty enough of young life, for a fac', when my pretty is away," putin Aunt Alvirah.
Ruth, not minding her Uncle Jabez's strictures, went about setting thesupper table with puckered lips, whistling softly. This last was anaccomplishment she had picked up from Tom long ago.
"And whistling gals is the wust of all!" snarled Jabez Potter, from thesink, where he had just taken his face out of the soapsuds bath he alwaysgave it before sitting down to table. "I reckon ye ain't forgot what Itold ye:
"'Whistlin' gals an' crowin' hens Always come to some bad ends!'"
"Now, Jabez!" remonstrated Aunt Alvirah.
But Ruth only laughed. "You've got it wrong, Uncle Jabez," she declared."There is another version of that old doggerel. It is:
"'Whistling girls and blatting sheep Are the two best things a farmer can keep!'"
Then she went straight to him and, as his irritated face came out of thehuck towel, she put both arms around his neck and kissed him on hisgrizzled cheek.
This sort of treatment always closed her Uncle Jabez's lips for a time.There seemed no answer to be made to such an argument--and Ruth _did_ lovethe crusty old man and was grateful to him.
When the miller had retired to his own chamber to count and recount theprofits of the day, as he always did every evening, Aunt Alvirahcomplained more than usual of the old man's niggardly ways.
"It's gittin' awful, Ruthie, when you ain't to home. He's ashamed to haveme set so mean a table when you air here. For he _does_ kinder care aboutwhat you think of him, my pretty, after all."
"Oh, Aunt Alvirah! I thought he was cured of _little_ 'stingies.'"
"No, he ain't! no, he ain't!" cried the old lady, sitting down with agroan. "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones! I tell ye, my pretty, I have tosteal out things a'tween meals to Ben sometimes, or that boy wouldn't havehalf enough to eat. Jabez has had a new padlock put on the meat-housedoor, and I can't git a slice of bacon without his knowin' on it."
"That is ridiculous!" exclaimed Ruth, who had less patience now than sheonce had for her great uncle's penuriousness. She was positive that it wasnot necessary.
"Ree-dic'lous or not; it's _so_," Aunt Alvirah asserted. "Sometimes I feellike I was a burden on him myself."
"_You_ a burden, dear Aunt Alvirah!" cried Ruth, with tears in her eyes."You would be a blessing, not a burden, in anybody's house. Uncle Jabezwas very fortunate indeed to get you to come here to the Red Mill."
"I dunno--I dunno," groaned the old lady. "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!I'm a poor, rheumaticky creeter--and nobody but Jabez would have taken meout o' the poorhouse an' done for me as he has."
"You mean, you have done for him!" cried Ruth, in some passion. "You havekept his house for him, and mended for him, and made a home for him, foryears. And I doubt if he has ever thanked you--not _once_!"
"But I have thanked him, deary," said Aunt Alvirah, sweetly. "And I dothank him, same as I do our Father in Heaven, ev'ry day of my life, fortakin' me away from that poorfarm an' makin' an independent woman of mea'gin. Oh, Jabez ain't all bad. Fur from it, my pretty--fur from it!
"Now that you ain't no more beholden to him for your eddication, an' all,he is more pennyurious than ever--yes he is! For Jabez's sake, I couldalmost wish you hadn't got all that money you did, for gittin' back thelady's necklace. Spendin' money breeds the itch for spendin' more. Sinceyou wrote him that you was goin' to pay all your school bills, JabezPotter is cured of the little itch of _that_ kind he ever had."
"Oh, Aunt Alvirah! Think of me--I am glad to be independent, too."
"I know--I know," admitted Aunt Alvirah. "But it's hard on Jabez. He wasgivin' you the best eddication he could----"
"Grumblingly enough, I am sure!" interposed Ruth, with a pout. She couldspeak plainly to the little old woman, for Aunt Alvirah _knew_.
"Surely--surely," agreed the old lady. "But it did him good, jest thesame. Even if he only spent money on ye for fear of what the neighborswould say. Opening his pocket for _your_ needs, my pretty, was makin' anew man of Jabez."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Ruth, thinking it rather hard. "You want me to bepoor again, Aunt Alvirah."
"Only for your uncle's sake--only for his sake," she reiterated.
"But he can do more for Mercy Curtis," said Ruth. "He has helped her quitea little. He likes Mercy--better than he does me, I think."
"But he don't have to help Mercy no more," put in Aunt Alvirah, quickly."Haven't you heard? Mercy's mother has got a legacy from some distantrelative and now there ain't a soul on whom Jabez Potter thinks he's _got_to spend money. It's a terrible thing for Jabez--Meed an' it is, mypretty.
"Changes--changes, all the time! We were going on quite smooth andpleasant for a fac'. And _now_----Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" and thusgroaningly Aunt Alvirah finished her quite unusual complaint, for with allher aches and pains she was naturally a cheerful body.