"It is too bad! I'll not stand it!" she murmured. "I did not come here to be treated like a poor relation. If they don't like me as I am, I will go home again. Yes, I'll go and tell auntie so at once," she continued, her pride rising higher and higher until she reached the bay-windowed drawing-room where her aunt was sitting with Ernest. She did not observe his presence, but went straight to her aunt, her cheeks crimson and her eyes flashing.
"Aunt Annie," she said as calmly as her emotion would permit, "Aunt Annie, I think that I had better go home."
"My dear child, what is the matter?" cried Mrs. Woburn, dropping her work in her amazement.
"I think that if you don't like me as I am, I had better go home," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" asked her aunt, still more perplexed; while Ernest looked up from his book and inquired, "Has Julia been annoying her?"
"No," said Ruth; "but, oh, auntie! I can't bear to be—a poor relation, and—and have clothes given me."
The pent-up sobs would have their way at last, and the girl sank down beside her aunt, who tried to soothe and comfort her.
"Have those dresses troubled you so much, dear?" she asked gently. "I had no idea that that was the cause of your annoyance, but fancied you did not like the style in which they were made. If I had thought that you would have any objection I would have acted differently; but as your mother——"
"Did mother know that you were getting them for me?" inquired Ruth.
"Yes, and she wrote to say that she should be glad for you to be treated in every way like your cousin. And you must never think, dear, that we regard you as 'a poor relation.' Remember that your father is my brother, and whatever I give you has been paid for, and far more than paid for, years ago."