Jenny York laughed merrily, making it evident that the dust had no effect on her good humor.
“There, I guess I’ve had a good rest. I must be going.”
“Let me go with you,” said Becky, springing up, and assisting Jenny to regain her feet.
“O, thank you! That will be nice. I can put my arm about your waist, if you’ll let me, and you can shoulder the crutch, if you like, and ’twill be a pleasant change for me.”
Warm-hearted Becky quickly adjusted herself to the requirements of her companion, and they started off down the road.
“Do you walk up and down every day, Jenny?”
“O, no. Almost always somebody comes along and gives me a ride. Everybody is very kind to me, and I get along famously.”
Ah, Jenny, if everybody had your cheerful spirit, how much better and brighter the world would become! how pleasantly we should all get along! The hard, grinding times come to all, in different shapes, to be rightly borne in patience; but between the past and the coming are long reaches of level life which the sunshine of a contented spirit can make glad and happy.
That long walk opened a fresh path in the new life to Becky. For two years Jenny York had worked at the mill. She gave her companion a full description of her duties, and eagerly pressed her to come and try her luck. They parted at the door of Mr. York’s house, sworn friends. Becky, refusing an invitation to enter, remembering her charity visit, gave Jenny her promise that the next day should find her at the mill.
So homeward tripped Becky, thanking her lucky stars for this providential meeting, thinking how oddly it had come about that just at the right moment a weak, crippled girl had been able to point out to her the road to independence.