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“‘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. Instantly Nellie’s excitement found burning words: “I heard her, Miss McFarlin! She thinks I ran away! Me! Well, I know she has a mean opinion of me, but I didn’t expect she’d be that unjust. I’m jest as fond of Miss Mercy as she is; I only sprinted down the street to ketch her young man, because I know they had a misunderstanding, and I was sure, no matter how mad he was, the minute I told him, he’d come a-running, and whether they let her see him or not, it would cheer her up a whole lot to know he tried. And as for Mrs. Biff’s pitying Miss Mercy and finding fault with her, I can tell you she’s made me believe things Mrs. Biff nor nobody else could if she offered me the kingdom of heaven and a chromo! I never believed before rich folks could be like her. I don’t know what that Altrury of hers is, but if she believes in it I’m going to; and so is Phil, and he’s going to make them stop the strike, too; and it’s a whole lot because of what she’s said and what I’ve said ’bout her. It is, for fair!”

Thereupon Nellie burst into tears, and disappeared behind the kitchen lattice.

Later, some hours later, I had a chance to tell Katy. But it was then no news to her. She shook her philosophic head. “‘Lightning and grace,’ Biff used to say, ‘you can’t noways bet on, for there’s no manner of knowing where they’ll strike.’ Now that Nellie, she fairly bu’st into Miss Mercy’s room, me being busy seeing Mr. Gordon safe outer the house; and I expected to find she’d riz Miss Mercy’s temperature; but she’d most cured her instid; and Miss Mercy she set up and laffed out loud. And she ain’t got smallpox, neither, not a bit; no more’n that ijit Sallie Kane, who’s down with German measles and nothing wuss. I guess we was all more scared than hurt. But it beats all about Nellie–well, I want to be fair to all, she’s been doing the sweeping better for a good while. All I say is, if Alterruria can convert Nellie Small there must be something decent in Alterruria.”

“I wish it might convert all of us–a little,” said I. “I’m afraid I’m not enlightened enough to desire entire conversion; it would demand a new incarnation!”