When Ruth returned to Philadelphia, it must be confessed—­though it would not have been by her—­that a medical career did seem a little less necessary for her than formerly; and coming back in a glow of triumph, as it were, and in the consciousness of the freedom and life in a lively society and in new and sympathetic friendship, she anticipated pleasure in an attempt to break up the stiffness and levelness of the society at home, and infusing into it something of the motion and sparkle which were so agreeable at Fallkill.  She expected visits from her new friends, she would have company, the new books and the periodicals about which all the world was talking, and, in short, she would have life.

For a little while she lived in this atmosphere which she had brought with her.  Her mother was delighted with this change in her, with the improvement in her health and the interest she exhibited in home affairs.  Her father enjoyed the society of his favorite daughter as he did few things besides; he liked her mirthful and teasing ways, and not less a keen battle over something she had read.  He had been a great reader all his life, and a remarkable memory had stored his mind with encyclopaedic information.  It was one of Ruth’s delights to cram herself with some out of the way subject and endeavor to catch her father; but she almost always failed.  Mr. Bolton liked company, a house full of it, and the mirth of young people, and he would have willingly entered into any revolutionary plans Ruth might have suggested in relation to Friends’ society.

But custom and the fixed order are stronger than the most enthusiastic and rebellious young lady, as Ruth very soon found.  In spite of all her brave efforts, her frequent correspondence, and her determined animation, her books and her music, she found herself settling into the clutches of the old monotony, and as she realized the hopelessness of her endeavors, the medical scheme took new hold of her, and seemed to her the only method of escape.

“Mother, thee does not know how different it is in Fallkill, how much more interesting the people are one meets, how much more life there is.”

“But thee will find the world, child, pretty much all the same, when thee knows it better.  I thought once as thee does now, and had as little thought of being a Friend as thee has.  Perhaps when thee has seen more, thee will better appreciate a quiet life.”

“Thee married young.  I shall not marry young, and perhaps not at all,” said Ruth, with a look of vast experience.

“Perhaps thee doesn’t know thee own mind; I have known persons of thy age who did not.  Did thee see anybody whom thee would like to live with always in Fallkill?”

“Not always,” replied Ruth with a little laugh.  “Mother, I think I wouldn’t say ‘always’ to any one until I have a profession and am as independent as he is.  Then my love would be a free act, and not in any way a necessity.”