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.