Ruth Arnold / or, the Country Cousin

ther as she took her seat. "Why, what makes you look so

about my going to the sea-side with them to spend the holidays. Of course I know very well that you couldn't s

ver to-night, and see what can be

you don't think really that there is any chance of my going, do you? Just see ho

it over," he repeated, as he took up hi

er. 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 parent

oor, the footsteps receded and a door was shut, and Ruth knew that the decision was made and her mother had gone to bed.

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, th

lp her make the beds, and th

ing, "What did your cousin

with them at the sea-side," replied Ruth

would lik

much; that is-of course-if you coul

you, not only for the holidays, but for a whole twelvemonth, to be a companion to your cousin and go

none of you fo

that would depen

me go, do you?" asked Ruth, almost ov

surrounded with comforts and luxuries, you would grow discontented with our quiet country life. I know you love your home now, but I fear lest a life in town should spoil you, and ma

into tears, "don't talk so. I'll neve

s not fear your growing discontented with home. Besides, as he says, when you come back you will be able to teach the younger children, and that will be a good object to have in view while you are studying. So we have determined to leave it for you to decide. We will give you to-day to think it over, and to-morrow you must tell us wha

en, and Ruth was quite overcome. She ran off to her own little room t