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----"