He had pictured,
perhaps, a little humble home, quiet and peaceful, somewhere amid the
snow-crested mountains of the East, where he would walk with her in the
cool of night-fall, under the bright stars and clear sky of that distant
land. Poor, mistaken Arthur! She was not fitted for such a life, she
thought. They were never made for each other. Their ambitions were not
the same. She had found her counterpart in Clarence, and he understood
her as Arthur never could have done. Arthur was a grand, good, practical
man, but there was nothing of the artist-soul in him, she thought. But
she had hoped that he would always be her own and Clarence's friend. He
was such a noble friend! And now her hope was crushed. She could never
be the same to him again, she knew, and he had said farewell.
"Good-bye, Beth--little Beth," he had said, and she lingered over the
last two words, "little Beth." Yes, she would be "little Beth" to him,
forever now, the little Beth that he had loved and roamed with over
meadow and woodland and wayside, in the sunny, bygone days.
"Good-bye, Beth--little Beth." Poor Arthur!
CHAPTER VI.
_'VARSITY._
Friday morning came, the last day of September, and the train whistled
sharply as it steamed around the curve from Briarsfield with Beth at one
of the car-windows.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53