Arthur withdrew soon, and Beth wondered if he
had any suspicion of the truth.
Once alone with her, Clarence drew her to his heart in true lover-like
fashion.
"Oh, Clarence, don't! People will see you."
"Suppose they do. You are mine."
"But you mustn't tell it, Clarence. You won't, will you?"
He yielded to her in a pleasant teasing fashion.
"Have you had a talk with your father, Beth?"
"Yes," she answered seriously, "and I rather hoped he would take it
differently."
"I had hoped so, too; but, still, he doesn't oppose us, and he will
become more reconciled after a while, you know, when he sees what it is
to have a son. Of course, he thinks us very young; but still I think we
are more mature than many young people of our age."
Beth's face looked changed in the last twenty-four hours. She had a more
satisfied, womanly look. Perhaps that love-craving heart of hers had
been too empty.
"I have been looking at the upstair rooms at home," said Clarence.
"There will have to be some alterations before our marriage."
"Why, Clarence!" she exclaimed, laughing; "you talk as though we were
going off to Gretna Green to be married next week."
"Sure enough, the time is a long way off, but it's well to be looking
ahead.
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