she hadn't even
helped the woman who fetched the smallpox; she'd only tempted her to
crime! And what should she say to poor Mrs. Bateman? Nobody wanted to
rent her home to be a pest-house. And she'd set the house afire by
hiring an ignorant man--Oh, she was a wicked girl! Her aunty often told
her she was a fool, and oh, why hadn't she believed her and not tried to
do things too big for her senseless head? And she's been fairly crying
her eyes out. The poor, sweet, humble-minded little thing!"

Poor little Mercy! But I was to pity her much more during the succeeding
ten minutes. Amos came out to the barberry hedge to tell our cook that
Miss Mercy was in bed and he 'lowed she'd smallpox. He was off in
pursuit of the doctor, who was at Mrs. Kane's who'd got a fearful bad
case. Hardly was Amos out of sight than Nellie, in her cheap imitation
of the latest fashion of big hat, dashed out of the gate after the
street car. So do rats desert the sinking ship, I thought. Straightway I
went over to the house. Katy herself answered the bell. She was in two
minds about ejecting me by force, but she softened when I recalled to
her how recently I had been vaccinated.

"Well, Miss Patsy, that's _so_," she admitted, "and besides, I ain't
absolutely sure _'tis_ smallpox. But she'd a kinder chill and I wouldn't
let her come down-stairs. Say, you don't happen to have seen Nellie
anywhere?"

When I told her, she drew a long sigh. We were standing at the side
door, where a great Norway fir shakes its blue-green shadows.

"'Tis like her," said Katy bitterly, "and only yesterday Miss Mercy gave
her sech a pretty waist. And now she's run off and Miss Mercy's got the
smallpox--mebbe. Well, I dunno as it's as dangerous as Alterruria, and
mebbe one will cure the other--Oh, _say_! Look, Miss Patsy!"

I looked. They came in a kind of rush with the flutter of brilliant
autumn leaves, swirling around the house corner--Nellie and young Ralph
Gordon. Nellie's cheeks were blazing, but young Gordon looked white and
stern.

"Why, Nellie Small, ain't you run away?" cried Katy.

Before Nellie could retort, the young gentleman took the limelight.

"Where is Miss Mercy?" he demanded in that tone of voice which the
novelists call "tense;" "I must say a few words to her. You can let me
say them through the door, if you wish, Mrs. Biff."

Katy hardly considered; her eyes shone into his masterful face. She
turned on her heel and he followed her. Instantl