"Oh dear me," sighed naughty Trix, "then I wish you'd love me a little less! I could bear it quite well if you lost your interest, and left me in peace. You and Mollie can do the beauty show for the family; I am content to represent 'intellect and common-sense.' If you want something to do, you might help me with a French exercise instead of nagging. It's simply awful to-day; and if I lose any more marks, it's all up with my chance of getting a prize. Now, then--will you, or won't you?"

Trix's method of asking favours was hardly as ingratiating as might be desired, and for a moment the chances seemed all in favour of a refusal.

The colour flamed in Ruth's cheeks, and her black brows drew ominously near together. She was fighting a hard battle against pride and resentment; but, as was usually the case, the better self won. She nodded back at Trix, and said--

"I will! ... Run and bring your books. We won't venture into the dining-room, for the boys make such a noise that one can't hear one's own voice."

There was something very sweet in the absolute surrender of self-will, and Trix, who was the most warm-hearted of mortals, promptly bounded up from her stool and flung her arms round her sister's neck.

"You duck--you angel! You shall nag at me as much as ever you like, and I'll never be cheeky again. It's brickish of you to worry about me at all; but I'll always be a fright, so what's the use? You are pretty enough for the family, Ruth. Ella Bruce's brother watches behind the curtains every Sunday to see you pa.s.s, and he says you are the prettiest girl he knows, and are always so nicely dressed!"

"Poor, deluded mortal; may he be forgiven for his blindness! I'm the shabbiest creature in the parish! It's very nice of him to watch; but I wish he would come out from behind the curtains and let me see him. I have not so many admirers that I can afford to have them hidden from view. What is he like, Trix; handsome?"

"Oh, well enough! Ella thinks him a model, but he is too thin and lanky for my taste. He is not half good enough for you, Ruth, anyway. You ought to marry a duke, and retrieve the fortunes of the family!"

"I'm willing, my dear. Produce him, and I promise you I will not stand in the way. I could do quite easily with being a d.u.c.h.ess. It would be so soothing to be called 'Your Grace,' and a coronet is peculiarly suited to my style of beauty. I won't have you for a bridesmaid, though, if you stoop like that. Get your book, Trix, and let us set to work. Better take advantage of my good mood while it lasts."

Trix departed obediently, and returned with a pile of books, which she dropped upon the table with a bang, which made the other occupants of the room start in their seats, and for the next hour the two girls wrestled with the difficulties of an advanced Brachet exercise. Truth to tell, Ruth was not much more expert than Trix herself; but she was infinitely more exact, and, by dint of hunting up back rules, and making endless references to the irregular verbs, the result achieved was fairly correct.

It was ten o'clock. Betty and the three boys had departed to bed; Mollie still sat gloating over her novel, with a forefinger thrust into either ear to shut out the sound of the disturbing discussion on moods and tenses. Trix collected her books with a sigh, and prepared to go upstairs in her turn. She looked white and tired, and the freckles on her nose seemed darker and more conspicuous than ever.

"Good-night, old Ruth! Thanks, most awfully! I'll do as much for you some day."

"Good-night, young Trix! Mind you do. I shall remind you when the time comes."

The door opened and closed; Ruth rose wearily, and laid her hand on Mollie's shoulder. Such a charming face was lifted to meet her glance-- so fresh, so bright, full of such dazzling youth and vigour! True, Mollie had been lazing all the evening while the others worked; but as Ruth stood looking down at her she wondered for the hundredth time how it was that so little was made of Mollie's beauty in comparison with her own.

The golden hair rippled back in a thick, soft wave; the grey eyes were large, and generously lashed; the laughing lips parted, to show white, even, little teeth; yet a stranger, looking for the first time at Mollie Farrell, rarely remarked upon her good looks.

"What a nice girl! What a dear girl! What a delightful creature!" they cried, according to their different degrees of enthusiasm. They wanted to know her, to have her for a friend, and forgot to think of mere outward appearance.

"What a noise you have been making, Ruth!" said Mollie lazily. "I can't think why you can't be quiet when you get a chance! This book is too exciting for words. I told you how the lovers quarrelled just after they were married, and he went abroad, thinking, of course, that she didn't love him any more; while, of course, she simply adored the ground he trod on, but thought that he had grown tired of her, while he was more madly in--"

Ruth gave an exclamation of impatience.

"Oh, what rubbish! I don't believe such things are possible! If they really loved each other, do you suppose they could keep on pretending while they lived together every day, and when it came to saying good-bye into the bargain? Nonsense! She'd break down and howl, and he would comfort her, and take off his coat. Look here, Mollie--go to bed! I've waited all the evening to have a talk with mother, and you are the only impediment left. Take your book with you if you like,--but go!"

Mollie rose, unwillingly enough.

"I know what you want to talk about," she said, looking into Ruth's face. "I know; and it's not a mite of use. Mother won't let you leave home; she needs you far too much. I shan't go to sleep, for I shall want to hear every single word when you come upstairs. I'll snoodle up to the hot bottle, and read till you come."

The programme sounded very attractive,--to snoodle up to the hot bottle, and lie at ease reading an interesting book,--much more attractive than to linger downstairs by the dying fire, and discuss disagreeable problems with an anxious mother. But Ruth did not waver in her decision, and a few moments later Mrs Connor was caught paying a round of visits to the children's bedrooms--"just in time," as Ruth thought whimsically, "to waken the poor souls from their first sleep!"--and escorted back to the chair which Mollie had vacated.

"Is anything wrong, dear?" she asked nervously. Poor little woman, if a surprise were in store, it seemed so much more likely that it should be disagreeable rather than bright! "You don't feel feverish, or ill, or--"

"No, no, my dear; I just want to talk to you about my own affairs. I'm quite well, and so strong and--and grown-up, don't you know, that it is time I grew independent, and began life on my own account. You have Mollie at home, and Trix and Betty growing up, and I think, mother dear, that I ought not to be dependent on the pater any longer. He has been very good and kind to us all these years; but, still--"

She hesitated, and Mrs Connor looked at her with anxious tenderness.

She had honestly considered the welfare of her two little girls as much as her own when she decided to marry a second time, and it had been a constant joy to feel that her expectations had been fulfilled; yet here was Ruth, her firstborn darling, her right hand in household affairs, actually talking of leaving home!

"Aren't you happy, Ruth? Have you not been happy all these years? I thought you were quite content and satisfied."

She sighed; and Ruth gave an echoing sigh, and answered honestly--

"Quite happy, darling, as far as you and the pater are concerned. He could not have been kinder to us if we had been his very own daughters.

But satisfied? Oh no, mother; never satisfied for a long time back!

How could I be? I don't want to seem ungrateful; but I'm only twenty- one, and it has been all work and no play, and there are so many, many things that I want to do, and see, and feel. I've never been to a proper grown-up dance in my life, for if we have been asked we have not had decent clothes to go in, and we never invite anyone here, so now people have given over asking us even to quiet evenings. I hardly ever speak to a soul outside this house, and I get so tired of it all;--and only fifteen pounds a year for dress and pocket-money! Remember what your allowance was when you were a girl, and all the jolly times you had, and the parties, and the visits, and the trips abroad,--and then think of our lives. It _is_ dull for us, isn't it, dear?"

Mrs Connor's pale cheeks flushed with a touch of offence. Not having sufficient insight into girls' natures to understand that there was nothing either undutiful or unnatural in Ruth's lament, she felt herself personally injured thereby.

"Mollie is happy--Mollie is content!" she said briefly.

And Ruth a.s.sented with a brief "Yes," and said no more.

If the difference between Mollie's nature and her own was not patent to their own mother, it was useless to enlarge upon it. She waited a moment or two to regain composure, then continued quietly--

"But that was not exactly the point. I did not mean to speak of my own troubles. What I feel is that when business is so bad, it is not right for two grown-up girls to stay at home. You could get on without me, with a little extra help for sewing, and in time I might earn enough, not only to keep myself but to help the others. Honestly, now, don't you think I am right? In my place, would you not feel it your duty to the pater to be independent, and lighten his responsibility, if even by a little?"

Mrs Connor sat silent, torn between two thoughts--dread of parting from Ruth, and a longing to help the overburdened husband, who had come as a rescuer in her own need. No one but herself guessed how it tore her heart to present him with fresh bills, or to ask for money for all the thousand-and-one needs of a growing family. Her very dread and nervousness made her choose inappropriate moments for her requests, and Mr Connor's aloofness from the ordinary workaday world made matters still more difficult. He probably considered fifteen pounds a year a lordly dress allowance for his two step-daughters; certainly he would not have noticed if they had worn the same garments every day for years on end. His own clothes lasted him for an incredible period, and were always neatly brushed and folded. It did not occur to him that girls needed more change than himself.

Mrs Connor sat and pondered. It was terrible to think of parting from Ruth, but the strain of making both ends meet was becoming so acute that some method of retrenchment must inevitably be found. It is easy for rich people to cut down expenses--to give up carriage and horses, dismiss two or three servants, and indulge in fewer pleasures and excitements; but it is a very different matter when there are no superfluities with which to part, but only, as it seems, the barest necessaries of life. Mrs Connor's eyes filled slowly with tears as she stretched out her hand and laid it over her daughter's. It was the signal of capitulation, and Ruth recognised it as such, and felt a sinking of the heart.

"You will let me go, mother?" she asked.

And Mrs Connor answered brokenly--

"If I must, I must! You would come home for the holidays: we should not lose you altogether. But oh, Ruth, not yet! Wait until the beginning of the term. Years ago, when things were at their very worst with me, and I did not know where to turn for help, G.o.d sent my dear husband to take care of me and you two babies. Perhaps--perhaps something may happen again. Perhaps, after all, it may not be necessary!"

They kissed each other silently, and parted for the night. Half-way upstairs Ruth remembered that her mother had not once inquired as to the nature of the work she intended to undertake, and smiled whimsically to herself. It was so very characteristic of the irresponsible little mistress of the household!

CHAPTER THREE.

A PROPOSAL AND A REFUSAL.

It was tacitly understood in the household that after Easter Ruth was going to do "something" to retrieve the family fortunes, but what that "something" should be remained vague and undefined. Ruth herself debated the question morning, noon, and night, and, like many another poor girl in the same position, bitterly regretted an education which had given her no one marketable qualification. She could play a little, draw a little, speak French a little, speak German a little less, make her own clothes in amateur fashion, and--what else? Nothing at all that any able-bodied woman could not accomplish equally well. If she had concentrated her energies on one definite thing, and learnt to do it, not pretty well, nor very well, but just as well as it could possibly be done, what a different prospect would have stretched before her now!

If she decided to teach, she must be content to accept juvenile pupils and a poor salary; if she became a companion, she must sacrifice all spirit of independence, and become a dutiful drudge, while she knew in her inmost heart that it would be wrong to take up nursing, since she felt no real vocation for the task.

It was useless to ask advice of anyone at home, so, one afternoon, Ruth betook herself to almost the only intimate friend she possessed,--a middle-aged spinster who kept house for an adored doctor brother. The brother was a friend into the bargain--a tall, thin, clever--looking man of thirty-eight, engrossed in his practice, which was one of the most prosperous in the neighbourhood. Brother and sister were seated at tea together when Ruth was announced, and she looked round the pretty room with admiring eyes. Pink silk lamp-shades, luxurious cushions, bowls of spring flowers, a tea equipage, bright and dainty and complete,--oh, how delightful it all looked after the bare shabbiness of the room at home; and what fascinating clothes Eleanor was wearing!

Despite her affection, one-and-twenty was inclined to think pretty things thrown away upon an antediluvian creature of forty, but if Ruth could have had a glimpse of herself as "others saw her" at that moment, she might have been more content. The subdued lamp-light dealt kindly with the old blue serge coat and skirt, the pink scarf at her neck matched the colour on her cheeks, and the eyes underneath the black brows were unusually bright and animated. She was always a welcome guest at this hospitable house, and it was a pleasant variety to be petted and fussed over, provided with cushions and footstools, and tempted to eat by a fresh supply of hot b.u.t.tered scones and a delectable chocolate cake studded over with walnuts. Ruth laughed, and dimpled into ever brighter beauty.

"It makes me feel so nice and young," she cried, "as if I were a spoilt only child, instead of the staid eldest daughter of a family! But I ought to be staid; I can't afford to frivol any longer, for I am going to take a most important step, and start life on my own account."

Brother and sister alike looked up with sharp inquiry, and Ruth, understanding, broke into a merry laugh.

"Oh, not that! Nothing half so interesting! Merely going to earn my living, and I came to ask your advice as to how I had best set about it.