BUSYBOROUGH.
The appearance of little Rupert in the castle yard diverted attention
from his blushing cousin, while friends and relatives crowded round him
to scold, applaud, or pet, as they deemed fit. His mother, overcome by
the anxiety and suspense of those terrible moments, fainted directly he
was brought down to her, but was soon restored, and grew very anxious
that the affair should not interfere with the happiness of her guests.
Some, indeed, proposed returning at once to Stonegate, but they were
overruled by the younger members of the party, who were anxious to
remain until the moon had risen, and also by Mrs. Woburn's desire not to
curtail their enjoyment; and it was finally settled that the steamer
should not return until ten o'clock.
Tea, coffee, and other refreshments were handed round, and the
interrupted games were resumed and carried on until the summer evening
grew chilly. The dew began to fall, and gave warning that it was too
late for out-of-door sports, and drove them into the shelter of the old
castle, where the young people proposed a dance. There was a spacious
room in the lower part of the building which had been often used for
such a purpose, and after hunting up a village musician and pressing him
into their service, hats and wraps were thrown aside and the dancing
commenced. Ruth did not understand the steps, but sat down near the
married ladies and looked on at what, to her unaccustomed eyes, was a
gay and lively scene. Yet she could not enter into it as she had entered
into the pleasures of the preceding days. She could not forget the alarm
of the afternoon; she was sure that her aunt was feeling ill and weary,
and she felt that the gaiety around was rather ill-timed and out of
harmony with the feelings of the hostess. The hours passed slowly to
those who were merely looking on, but at ten the dancing ceased, the old
fiddler was dismissed, and amidst a great deal of laughter and chatter
the gay party left the castle and made their way to the steamer.
The moon was shining brilliantly, and the walls of the old castle
gleamed in its light or were hidden in dense shadow by the surrounding
trees. The steamer lay in the little bay just below, every inch of her
visible in the moonlight, and all agreed that it was a perfect night for
a water trip.
Ruth longed for a little quiet, and strove to escape from her lively
companions, whose mirth did not accord with her feelings. She sat in a
sheltered corner, and looked at the vast expanse of water and at the
quiet stars keeping watch overhead. Nothing so much reminded her of home
as the stars, which shone upon her just as they had shone at home, and
with the thought of home came a remembrance of the Heavenly Father of
whom she had thought so little lately, but who had watched over her
unceasingly and had helped her that day to save her little cousin from a
horrible fate.
Mr. Woburn and Gerald returned to Busyborough a few days after the
picnic, and the remaining weeks of the sea-side holiday passed all too
quickly for Ruth, who was never tired of the delights of sea and shore
and all the varied amusements that Stonegate afforded.
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.