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Page 10
"Ah, yes. Arthur, but then--I am drifting somehow. Life is bearing me
another way. I feel it within me. By-and-by I hope to be famous, and
perhaps wealthy, too, but I am drifting with the years."
"But it is not the part of noble men and women to drift like that, Beth.
You will be leaving home this fall, and life is opening up to you. Do
you not see there are two paths before you? Which will you choose, Beth?
'For self?' or 'for Jesus?' The one will bring you fame and wealth,
perhaps, but though you smile among the adoring crowds you will not be
satisfied. 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.
_MARIE._
"Isn't she pretty?"
"She's picturesque looking."
"Pretty? picturesque? I think she's ugly!"
These were the varied opinions of a group of Briarsfield girls who were
at the station when the evening train stopped. The object of their
remarks was a slender girl whom the Mayfairs received with warmth. It
was Marie de Vere--graceful, brown-eyed, with a small olive face and
daintily dressed brown hair. This was the girl that Beth and Arthur were
introduced to when they went to the Mayfairs to tea a few days later.
Beth recalled the last evening she was there to tea. Only a few days had
since passed, and yet how all was changed!
"Do you like Miss de Vere?" asked Clarence, after Beth had enjoyed a
long conversation with her.
"Oh, yes! I'm just delighted with her! She has such kind eyes, and she
seems to understand one so well!"
"You have fallen in love at first sight. The pleasure on your face makes
up for the long time I have waited to get you alone. Only I wish you
would look at me like you looked at Miss de Vere just now," he said,
trying to look dejected.
She laughed. Those little affectionate expressions always pleased her,
for she wondered sometimes if Clarence could be a cold and unresponsive
husband. He was not a very ardent lover, and grey-eyed, intellectual
Beth Woodburn had a love-hungering heart, though few people knew it.
"Do you know," said Beth, "Miss de Vere has told me that there is a
vacant room at her boarding-house. She is quite sure she can get it for
me this winter. Isn't she kind? I believe we shall be great friends."
"Yes, you will enjoy her friendship. She is a clever artist and
musician, you know. Edith says she lives a sort of Bohemian life in
Toronto. Her rooms are littered with music and painting and literature."
"How nice! Her face looks as if she had a story, too. There's something
sad in her eyes."
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