That Ruth had this delight in the mere surface play of life that she could, for instance, be interested in that somewhat serious by-play called “flirtation,” or take any delight in the exercise of those little arts of pleasing and winning which are none the less genuine and charming because they are not intellectual, Ruth, herself, had never suspected until she went to Fallkill.  She had believed it her duty to subdue her gaiety of temperament, and let nothing divert her from what are called serious pursuits:  In her limited experience she brought everything to the judgment of her own conscience, and settled the affairs of all the world in her own serene judgment hall.  Perhaps her mother saw this, and saw also that there was nothing in the Friends’ society to prevent her from growing more and more opinionated.

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.”