"It's very silly, I know, mother; and I didn't mean to be vexed about it," she began, "but Julia said something about my going to the sea-side with them to spend the holidays. Of course I know very well that you couldn't spare me,--but I can't help crying--just a minute, mother, that is all," said Ruth, while her tears dropped slowly. "Don't cry, child; we'll talk it over to-night, and see what can be done," said her father cheerfully. "But, father!" cried Ruth, starting up in surprise, her tears quite forgotten, "you don't think _really_ that there is any chance of my going, do you? Just see how busy you are with the haying, and then there are the boys and the little ones----" "Well, well, your mother and I will talk it over," he repeated, as he took up his hat and set out again for the hay-field. The summer evening soon slipped away, and Ruth knew better than to worry her mother by asking foolish questions; but when supper was over, and her head lay at rest upon the pillow, her brain was busy, and it was a long time before sleep overtook her. Delightful visions of sea-side places such as she had read of in her favourite books, of picnics and boating, of rambles in search of shells, rare stones and long sea-weeds, filled her mind; and as she heard the monotonous sounds of her parents' voices talking in low tones in the room beneath her, and knew that they were discussing the important question Was she to go or stay? her impatience almost got the better of her, and she longed to run downstairs and take part in the conversation. Presently the voices ceased, there were footsteps on the stairs, the light of a candle showed through the chink of her door, the footsteps receded and a door was shut, and Ruth knew that the decision was made and her mother had gone to bed. And as she could not know the result of the conversation that night, she very wisely closed her eyes and went to sleep. Early the next morning she was awakened by the sun shining in at her window. She rose at once, dressed quickly, and was soon downstairs, but not before her mother, who was busily preparing the breakfast. There was so much to be done before the meal was ready, so much chatter over it, and so many last words to the boys and their father before they set out for the hay-field, that Ruth could not find an opportunity to ask her mother the question that was burning upon her lips, until all trace of the meal was removed and the children had gone to play in the orchard. Then she went upstairs to help her make the beds, and there was time for a quiet chat. Mrs. Arnold began by inquiring, "What did your cousin say in her letter yesterday?" "She asked if I could spend my holidays with them at the sea-side," replied Ruth, blushing with joy at the very thought. "And you would like to go?" "Oh yes, indeed I should, very, very much; that is--of course--if you could spare me," she added hesitatingly.