A POOR RELATION.
"When are we to have the picnic, mamma?" asked Julia at breakfast the
next morning.
"Any day will suit me; but as your father and Gerald will only be here
for a short time, I think we must arrange to have it as early as
possible the week after next."
"Let us have it on Monday. Yes, Monday," cried Rupert and Julia
together.
"I am going out boating on Monday," said Gerald lazily.
"Tuesday or Wednesday," suggested Mrs. Woburn.
"I am engaged for Tuesday also, but Wednesday is clear, I believe,"
replied the young man in a careless manner, as if it did not signify
much to him whether he formed one of the party or not.
"How horrid of you to put it off so long," exclaimed his sister angrily.
"I daresay Wednesday will be wet."
"_Nous verrons_," he replied, as he sauntered from the room with his
hands in his pockets. He looked in again at the door to say, "I shall
not be back until the evening, mother;" and in another moment the
banging of the front-door told them that he had left the house.
"It is too bad of Gerald to go off like that the very first day he is
here," said Julia. "I suppose he has taken his bicycle and gone out with
his friends, the Goodes. Horrid people! Yes, there he is," she cried as
Gerald and two other young men on bicycles passed the house bowing and
smiling towards the window where the two girls were standing.
"Gerald out with the Goodes? I wish he would choose some other
companions," said Mr. Woburn, who had scarcely noticed their previous
conversation.
"You see how papa finds fault with him," whispered Julia to her cousin.
"Ruth, I want you to come to my room for a few minutes," said Mrs.
Woburn; and her niece followed her upstairs.
"I should like you to try on these things and see how they fit you," she
said, as she pointed to some pretty dresses spread out on the bed. There
was a pale pink, trimmed with dainty white lace; a figured sateen
covered with tiny rosebuds, and finished off here and there with knots
and bows of rose-coloured ribbon; a simple holland dress trimmed with
white braid, and a shady straw hat with bows of lace and a tiny bunch of
rosebuds. Ruth gazed at the garments with admiration and astonishment,
then she glanced at her own shabby print frock, blushed rosy red, and
the tears began to gather in her eyes.
"What is the matter, Ruth? Do you not like them?" asked her aunt kindly.
"They are very pretty, and you are very kind, auntie; but I would rather
not wear them," said the girl, trying hard to repress the tears of
mortification that stood in her eyes.
"But, my dear, they have been bought on purpose for you to wear at the
sea-side. Do at least try them."
"Thank you, auntie, I would much rather not do so;" and Ruth turned
aside to the window, from which she could see nothing for the mist
before her eyes caused by the storm of passion and pride surging within
her breast.
There was no reply, and when she looked round again she found that she
was alone. The sunshine was streaming into the room, shining upon the
white hat and the pretty dresses, just such garments as Ruth would have
chosen if she had had an opportunity of buying such a stock of clothes
for herself. But she remembered Julia's words and manner the previous
morning, and felt so proud and angry that she deliberately shut her eyes
as she walked out of the room, and gave not a thought to her aunt's
kindness.
"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."
"Thank you, auntie; I am glad to know that," she said quietly.
"I did not think you were so proud, Ruth," whispered Ernest as she left
the room, and went up to her own chamber to have a good cry over her
foolish behaviour. But, to her dismay, Julia was there dressing for a
walk, an occupation which she knew would take her a considerable time.
Oh, how she longed for her little room at home, where she had so often
taken her childish troubles, or for a quiet nook upon the shore, such as
she had often read of, but which is rarely to be found in a fashionable
watering-place. There was no solitude for her just then, and she was
obliged to fight the battle within silently, while her companion rallied
her upon her mournful looks and red eyes; and to send up her prayer for
help from the heart, without using the lips. But help came, and she
conquered at last the pride and temper of which she was now thoroughly
ashamed. She was anxious to obtain her aunt's forgiveness for the rude
reception of her kindness, and tried to make amends by arraying herself
in the pink dress and pretty hat, which she showed to Julia, saying how
kind it was of auntie to get such lovely things for her. By-and-by when
she had an opportunity she said in a low voice, "I am very sorry that I
was so proud and rude just now, auntie. I'll try to behave better in
future."
And Mrs. Woburn, looking at her niece's dress, saw that her repentance
was not only expressed in words.