He looked a
little sad, too.
"Still, he isn't a writer like Clarence," she thought, "and he doesn't
know how to praise like Clarence does."
"But Arthur," she said, finally speaking her thoughts aloud; "you speak
as though I could change my way of writing merely by resolving to. I can
write only as nature allows."
"That's too sentimental, Beth; just like your writing. You are a little
bit visionary."
"But there are gloomy and visionary writers as well as cheerful ones.
Both have their place."
"I do not believe, Beth, that gloom has a place in this bright earth of
ours. Sadness and sorrow will come, but there is sweetness in the cup as
well. The clouds drift by with the hours, Beth, but the blue sky stands
firm throughout all time."
She caught sight of Clarence coming as he was speaking, and scarcely
heeded his last words, but nevertheless they fastened themselves in her
mind, and in after years she recalled them.
Clarence and Arthur had never met before face to face, and somehow there
was something striking about the two as they did so. Arthur was only a
few years older, but he looked so manly and mature beside Clarence. They
smiled kindly when Beth introduced them, and she felt sure that they
approved of each other.
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