CHAPTER IX.
THE PICNIC.
Everything was ready at last, and the whole family started for the pier, where they were to meet their friends. Such a crowd of people surrounded them upon their arrival, that Ruth, who merely knew a few of them slightly, felt quite over-whelmed, and wished that her usual companion, Ernest, had been beside her.
The steamer which had been chartered for the occasion now came alongside the pier, and every one was occupied with the business of embarking. When all the party were safely on board, Ruth found herself amongst a number of strangers, far away from Julia, who had evidently quite forgotten her, and was laughing and chatting with a little group of girls at the other end of the vessel. Her aunt was entertaining the ladies, and her uncle walking up and down the deck in earnest conversation with two gentlemen; Rupert was trying to get on the paddle-box, and there was no one near her but Gerald, the facetious leader of a knot of young men. Ruth felt very lonely and rather sorrowful; she had been eagerly anticipating this picnic, and now she seemed to be quite neglected, while every one else was gay and happy. She had not the courage to make her way through the visitors to reach Julia at the other end of the boat, for she had an undefined feeling that if she went she would not be welcomed there. Her thoughts flew back to the one spot of earth where she was always wanted and ever welcomed, and she heaved a little sigh.
"What is the matter, my fair coz?" asked Gerald, who was standing near and heard the sigh. "Are the Fates very unpropitious?"
"No, Cousin Gerald," she answered shyly.
She could not understand the young man who patronized her, and talked to her as if she were a little child, and she fancied that he was making fun of her.
"Then why do you sigh?" he inquired.
"I have nothing else to do," she said, smiling.