She thought of Arthur, too. Perhaps he
was happiest of all. He seemed to have forgotten. But she--ah, she could
never forget! Yet, "Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy
sight." And she pulled a bunch of fall flowers from the bush at her
side, careless of the rain-drops that shook on her bare head as she
touched the branches. She did not know that she was being observed from
the study window.
"She is going to be a missionary, isn't she?" said the stranger who was
talking to Mr. Perth.
"Yes; she hasn't decided her field yet, but she will make a grand one
wherever she goes. She's a noble girl; I honor her."
"Yes, she is very noble," said the stranger slowly, as he looked at her.
She would have recognized his voice if she had been within hearing, but
she only pulled another spray of blossoms, without heeding the sound of
the study door shutting and a step approaching her on the gravelled
walk.
"Beth."
"Arthur! Why, I--I thought you were in Montreal!"
"So, I was. I just got there a few days ago, but I turned around and
came back to-day to scold you for getting your feet wet standing there
in the wet grass. I knew you didn't know how to take care of yourself.
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