"
May laughed softly.
"Do you know, I am beginning to long to love truly. I want to taste the
deep of life, even if it brings me pain."
It was a momentary restlessness, and she recalled these words before
long.
Mr. Perth joined them just then. He was going away for a week's holiday
on the following day.
"I suppose you have a supply for Sunday," said Mrs. Perth.
"Yes, I have. I think he'll be a very good one. He's a volunteer
missionary."
"Where is he going?" asked Beth.
"I don't know."
"I should like to meet him," and Beth paused before she continued, in a
quiet tone, "I am going to be a missionary myself."
"Beth!" exclaimed Mrs. Perth.
"I thought you were planning this," said Mr. Perth.
"Thought so? How could you tell?" asked Beth.
"I saw it working in your mind. You are easily read. Where are you
going?"
"I haven't decided yet. I only just decided to go lately--one Sunday
afternoon this spring. I used to hate the idea."
Perhaps it was this little talk that made her think of Arthur again that
night. Why had he never sent her one line, one word of sympathy in her
sorrow? He was very unkind, when her father had loved him so.
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