I know
what you feel." Just then her sweet eyes were raised to heaven in holy
thought, "Dear heavenly Father, thou knowest everything--how I loved
him. Thy will be done. Oh, Jesus, my tender One, thou art so sweet! Thou
dost understand my woman's heart and satisfy even its sweet longings.
Resting in Thy sweet presence what matter life's sorrows!"
She did not notice the lattice gate open and a slender, fair-haired man
pause just inside to watch her. It was Clarence Mayfair. There was a
touching expression on his face as he looked at her. Yes, she was
beautiful, he thought. It was not a dream, the face that he had carried
in his soul since that Sunday night last fall. Beth Woodburn was
beautiful. She was a woman now. She was only a child when they played
their little drama of love there in Briarsfield. The play was past now;
he loved her as a man can love but one woman. And now--a shadow crossed
his face--perhaps it was too late!
"Clarence!" exclaimed Beth, as he advanced, "I'm glad to see you." And
she held out her hand with an air of graceful dignity.
"You have come back to visit Briarsfield, I suppose. I was so surprised
to see you," she continued.
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