Still, she was anxious to commence her studies at the young ladies' college her cousin attended, and spent many an hour thinking of it and trying to imagine what the school, the governesses, and the pupils would be like. It was of little use to question Julia, who always declared that she "didn't want to be bothered about school in the holidays," and that Ruth would soon find out "how horrid it was."
It was in September that they bade farewell to Stonegate and left for Busyborough. The days were growing shorter and colder, and as the railway journey occupied two or three hours it was late in the day when they reached their destination, and the street lamps and shop windows were all aglow with gas-light.
What a large noisy place it seemed to country-bred Ruth, as their cab rattled through street after street brilliantly lighted, down long roads, past handsome houses and gardens, until it stopped before a large many-windowed house, with a long flight of stone steps and a small garden, enclosed by massive iron railings.
Rupert and Julia ran up the steps and disappeared, and Ruth followed her aunt into the tile-paved hall, where two servants were waiting to receive them. It was a home-coming to all the others, but to the country cousin it was quite strange and new.
"It is good to be at home again," said Mrs. Woburn. "Come, Ruth, I will show you your room."
She led the way upstairs and opened the door of a pleasant little room, furnished tastefully with every requisite for a young girl's apartment. Everything was so pretty, and the bright fire burning in the grate gave the room such a cosy look, that Ruth was delighted, and tried to express her grateful thanks, but was simply bidden to make herself at home and to be very happy.
Left alone in the room which was to be her own, she began to look around her and to admire the pretty French bedstead, the light modern furniture, and the pictures, bookshelves, and brackets upon the walls. How much larger and more elegant it was than the tiny room which had been hers at Cressleigh! She felt that she was indeed growing farther away from the old life every day. "If it were not for Julia, and the fact that I am so far from home, I could be perfectly happy here," was her mental comment.
They were two large "if's," and Julia was the one which occupied the principal share of her thoughts. She did not "take to" her cousin, neither did she try to make the best of the very apparent fact that their tastes were dissimilar. Instead of seeking for points on which they could agree, she allowed her mind to dwell continually upon their diversity, and was beginning to return her cousin's ill-concealed contempt for her rustic and unfashionable notions by a growing scorn and proud dislike, which though at first secretly cherished could not fail to show themselves in time.