SEA-SIDE PLEASURES.
A week spent at Stonegate had taught Ruth more of her own frailties and weaknesses, and had shown her more of the various sorts of people of which the world is composed, than she would have learnt in a whole year spent in the quiet sheltered seclusion of her home at Cressleigh.
The novelty, the continued round of pleasure, the excitement and gaiety, were bewildering and delightful to the simple country girl. It seemed to her that she had been suddenly transported from the commonplace ordinary work-a-day world in which she had hitherto dwelt, to a fairyland of sunshine, music, and pleasure. It was almost impossible at times to realize that the sun which brightened the Esplanade, and gilded the edge of the rippling waves, was the same sun which was shining upon her father's harvest-field at home, upon the labourers toiling at the sickle, the women binding the sheaves, and the servants briskly moving hither and thither, all as busy as bees throughout the whole of the long summer day.
Everything at the sea-side was new to Ruth, and she exulted in the freshness and novelty of all around her, for she was still at that happy age
"When all things pleased, for life itself was new,
And the heart promised what the fancy drew."
Alas, that that time is being gradually shortened, and that children say good-bye at such an early age to the simple pleasures of youth!
How few years there are in which one can be young, and how many in which one must be old!
But Ruth was still young, far younger in her capacity to enjoy than Julia, who was her junior by some months. She was in good health, with fine animal spirits, and had not tasted half the pleasures which had already grown stale to her cousin. The boating, the chatter, the strolls, the music on the pier, the glorious sunsets, the very stones and shells upon the beach, the fresh breezes and the ever-changing sea, all contributed to afford her such pleasure as it would have been impossible for Julia to feel, because she, poor child, was already disenchanted at fourteen, was already wearied with frequent repetition of the amusements which were new to her cousin, and also because she had imbibed the idea that it was ill-bred, and a mark of ignorance, to show or even to feel extreme pleasure in anything, yet was ever selfishly seeking some new gratification.
"You appear to be enjoying yourself very much, Ruth," observed her aunt, as she sat beside her on the pier the evening before the day arranged for the picnic.
"How can I help it, auntie? You are so kind, and everything is so enchanting," was the enthusiastic reply.
"I think that many of the richest people here would give all they possess to have that child's keen sense of delight," remarked Mrs. Woburn to her husband, as Ruth tripped away to join her cousins.
"Oh, Julia," she exclaimed, "what a charming piece the band has been playing!"
"That old thing!" replied the other contemptuously. "It is the overture to 'La Sonnambula,' and I perfectly hate it, for I learnt it at school ages ago, and Signor Touchi used to get awfully angry about it."
Julia often acted as a sort of wet blanket upon her cousin's enthusiastic outbursts; though it was a long time before the country girl learnt to express her delight in the usual formula of a fashionable young lady, "Very charming," or "Awfully nice," pronounced in a manner which seems to imply, "Just tolerable."
Wednesday morning rose clear and bright, and soon after sunrise Ruth peeped out of the window to see if the weather were favourable, and when she saw the sunshine she could remain in bed no longer, but dressed quickly and ran down to the beach, her favourite retreat in the early morning, and the only place where she ever found an opportunity for quiet thought amidst all the excitement of pleasure-seeking.
What a long time it seemed since she had left home! And yet it was only a few days. What would her mother think, she wondered, of the life she was leading now? She had only received one short letter from her, written after all the rest of the household were in bed, and Ruth could guess how very busy every one was, although there was but a casual reference to the fact in the letter.
"I hope that mother is not doing too much," she mused, "it was very kind of her to let me have so much pleasure; but how hard it would be to go back now after all this gaiety. I trust that I am not getting spoilt, yet——"
"Have you been looking for anemones, Ruth?" asked a boyish voice beside her. "This is not the place to find them."
"I had no idea that you were near, Ernest," was her reply, "but I have not been looking for anything, only thinking."
"Well, it is almost breakfast time now. You know that we are to be early this morning on account of the picnic to which you are all going."
"But surely you are going with us?" said Ruth in surprise.
"No," he answered quietly, "I should only be in the way. Gerald and his fellows don't want me, and Julia and her friends only snub me and think me a nuisance, and of course I am too old to romp and be petted like little Ru. So I shall have a quiet day on the shore collecting fresh specimens, and you shall see them to-morrow. Now we must go in to breakfast."
Ernest had grown very fond of his country cousin, who was so different from his sister and her friends that she could actually take an interest in his pursuits, and who, under her father's guidance, had learnt many interesting facts of natural history which the town-bred boy had never had opportunities of observing.
Breakfast was a hurried meal, and directly it was over there followed the bustle of preparation for the day's excursion. Hampers were sent off, duly packed with all kinds of delicacies; Rupert was running up and down stairs continually, and getting in the way as much as Ernest, who remained stationary near the door; while Julia rushed from her room to her mother's, declaring that she was quite certain they would all be late, and then ran back to ask Ruth to help her to dress.