LIVING IT DOWN.
The holidays were over about the end of January, and Ruth once more
accompanied her cousin to Addison College. But she entered the
schoolroom in a different spirit, distrusting self and relying only upon
Divine help.
She had need enough of grace and strength, for the day had not passed
before the girls noticed that Miss Elgin had lost confidence in her and
was inclined to regard her with distrust and suspicion, and they
wondered greatly what had caused the change. Julia of course was
questioned, and without really wishing to do her cousin an injury she
gradually let out the facts concerning the prize. The girls took
different views of the case, according to their liking for Ruth and
their sense of right and wrong. There was a great deal of talk for a few
days, and then the matter was forgotten by all but Miss Elgin, whose
manner was a constant reminder of the affair.
As for Ruth herself, she could _almost_ say, "None of these things move
me," so trivial did they seem; for she was rejoicing in the
consciousness of forgiveness and pardon, her heart was resting after its
wanderings, filled with the "peace which passeth all understanding." The
sheep had come back to the fold, there to abide, to find its shelter
safer and sweeter than ever.
Mrs. Arnold's reply to her daughter was at once tender, sorrowful,
hopeful and motherly. She grieved over what had happened, but rejoiced
that her child had no longer any secret to hide from her; she pointed
out the only path of safety, and commended her to the care and keeping
of the loving Father who had watched over her during all her waywardness
and had brought her back to Himself.
That letter aroused an intense longing for home, for a glimpse of all
the dear faces which she had not seen for seven long months. August
seemed so far away, though each day brought it nearer. Ernest had quite
relapsed into his usual shy, quiet manner, and it was only occasionally
that he was willing to talk with his cousin upon the one subject which
was a bond of union between them.
A change took place in the household early in March, for Gerald left
home. His accident and subsequent explanations opened his father's eyes
to shortcomings which he had for some time suspected, yet it was also
the means of establishing a better relation between them.
The injury which the fire had caused to the books was a most serious
matter, and not even several weeks' work was able to repair the
mischief. The whole matter was necessarily known to all the clerks, and
Mr. Woburn decided that his son must no longer remain in his office,
where he had been able persistently to shirk his duties. Gerald was
thankful to have a chance of starting afresh, away from his old
associates, and gladly fell in with his father's proposal that he should
leave Busyborough, and take a situation which was easily procured for
him in another town.
Julia openly lamented his going, and also cried over it a good deal in
secret, for she was very much attached to her eldest brother, and had
regarded Ruth far more kindly ever since the night when she had been the
means of saving him.
"I used to think that you hated Gerald," she said to her cousin one day,
"and he seemed so kind and polite to you, and so cross to me, that I
grew jealous and couldn't bear you;" and Ruth was somewhat amused to
overhear Julia remark to a friend that she thought she (Ruth) "had
really improved of late."
Study, lessons, classes, essays, and practice were again the important
matters to which attention was directed daily, and there was little time
for recreation or amusement until Easter, when Gerald returned for a few
days, and there was a fortnight's respite from the apparently endless
round of school duties.
A day's excursion of about ten miles into the country, in search of
primroses and other wild flowers, greatly revived Ruth's longing for
home. It seemed so strange to think that the Cressleigh woods were
studded with primroses and anemones, and that she would not gather them
nor see the woods until the flowers had all vanished.
One more term's work, and then--hurrah for home! Such were her thoughts
when she returned to school again after her brief holiday; and as it
would probably be her last term, she determined to work with redoubled
vigour and energy to acquire the knowledge which she would afterwards be
able to impart to her young brothers and sisters.
Miss Elgin's coolness and distrust considerably abated, when she saw
Ruth working diligently and bearing with patience the petty taunts and
slights of her school-fellows. Her influence was greater than it had
been. She no longer found fault with the other girls in the spirit of
the Pharisee, but spoke compassionately, knowing what it was to be
tempted and to fall, and her companions were more inclined to follow the
example of one who was striving to do right than to be influenced by the
precepts of a self-sufficient paragon.
There were still many slips and shortcomings, but she neither concealed
nor made light of them; she simply confessed herself in the wrong and
began again in the strength which comes from above.
So the term passed, and Ruth, who believed that her school-days were
nearly over, began to take a mournful pleasure in thinking, "This is the
last time I shall ever do this or that," and drew many plans for her
future life.
Miss Elgin said that it was a pity for her to leave school when she was
learning so much and making such satisfactory progress; but Ruth
somewhat propitiated her by saying that she would work hard and keep up
her studies at home.
But how little we know what the future will bring!
Just before the holidays, Ruth received a letter which contained the
alarming news that one of the younger children was ill with scarlatina,
and that she would be obliged to postpone her return home for at least a
few weeks. She was anxious to go at once and help her mother in her work
of nursing, but her parents would not allow her to run the risk of
entering the infected house.
It was disappointing, more especially as she had just gained a handsome
prize, which was indeed fairly hers by right of industry and patience.
Yet after all it was no great hardship to go to the sea-side again with
her aunt and cousins to spend the summer holidays. The reports from
Cressleigh were not encouraging. Letter after letter brought the news
that another of the home-birds had been stricken with fever, and for a
week they were all in terrible anxiety about Daisy, the youngest child
and pet of the household. But her life was spared, and she began to
recover slowly.
The summer days passed quickly at the sea-side, and when September came
Ruth cherished a faint hope that she might be allowed to return home. A
letter from her father, however, dispelled any such idea. He said that
although the invalids were going on well there was a great deal of fever
in the neighbourhood, and the doctor did not consider that it would be
safe for her to return for several months. He thought, therefore, that
she could not do better than accept her aunt's kind offer that she
should return with her to Busyborough, and continue to attend Addison
College until Christmas, or even Easter.
Ruth was again disappointed, but she knew that useless murmurs would be
a poor return for her aunt's kindness. So she put a brave face upon the
matter, and wiped away the tears that would come. Like David of old, she
encouraged herself in the Lord, and once more took up her daily duties
in the form of lessons and study.