The other--oh, it would make you so much happier! Your books
would be read at every fire-side, and Beth Woodburn would be a name to
be loved. You are drifting--but whither, Beth?"
His voice was so gentle as he spoke, his smile so tender, and there was
something about him so unlike any other man, she could not forget those
last words.
The moon-beams falling on her pillow that night mingled with her dreams,
and she and Clarence were alone together in a lovely island garden. It
was so very beautiful--a grand temple of nature, its aisles carpeted
with dewy grass, a star-gemmed heaven for its dome, a star-strewn sea
all round! No mortal artist could have planned that mysteriously
beautiful profusion of flowers--lily and violet, rose and oleander,
palm-tree and passion-vine, and the olive branches and orange blossoms
interlacing in the moon-light above them. Arthur was watering the tall
white lilies by the water-side and all was still with a hallowed silence
they dared not break. Suddenly a wild blast swept where they stood. All
was desolate and bare, and Clarence was gone. In a moment the bare rocks
where she had stood were overwhelmed, and she was drifting far out to
sea--alone! Stars in the sky above--stars in the deep all round and the
winds and the waters were still! And she was drifting--but whither?
CHAPTER IV.
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