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Page 23
Beth lingered a little, gazing at the clear frosty scene before her,
then rose with a firm look on her face and went up to her room. There
was one thing more to be done before she left home to-morrow. She had
resolved upon it. It was dark in her room, but she needed no light to
recognize that roll of manuscript in her drawer. She hesitated a moment
as she touched it tenderly. Must she do it? Yes, ah, yes! She could not
publish that story now. Just then the picture of Arthur seemed to flash
through her mind, reading it and tossing it down with that cold, silent
look she had sometimes seen on his face. It was dark in the hall as she
carried it down to the drawing-room grate. She crouched down on the
hearth-rug before the coals, and a moment later the flames that played
among the closely-written sheets lighted her face. Nothing but a
blackened parchment now for all that proud dream of fame! The room grew
dark again, and only the coals cracking and snapping, and the steady
ticking of the old clock on the mantel piece above her head, broke the
stillness. It was done. She went to the window and knelt down.
"Father, I have sacrificed it for Thee. Take this talent Thou hast given
me and use it for Thy honor, for I would serve Thee alone, Father."
She slept that night with a smile on her lips. Yes, friend, it was a
hero's deed, and He who alone witnessed it hath sealed her brow with a
light such as martyrs wear in heaven. As for the world, oh, that every
book filled with dark doubts and drifting fears and shuddering gloom had
perished, too, in those flames!
CHAPTER IX.
_'VARSITY AGAIN._
In a few days Beth was settled again at Mrs. Owen's, on St. Mary's
Street, and tripping to her lectures as usual. Marie was not there, of
course, and Beth knew nothing of her whereabouts. In fact, there had
been a complete change of boarders. The house was filled with 'Varsity
girls this year, with the exception of Marie's old room, a change which
Beth appreciated. One of the girls was a special friend of hers, a
plump, dignified little creature whom most people called pretty. Hers
was certainly a jolly face, with those rosy cheeks and laughing brown
eyes, and no one could help loving Mabel Clayton. She belonged to the
Students' Volunteer Movement, and as this was her last year at college,
Beth thought sometimes a little sorrowfully of the following autumn when
she was to leave for India.
Beth meant to have her spend a few days at Briarsfield with her next
summer. But a good many things were to happen to Beth before the next
summer passed. A Victoria student was occupying Marie's old room, but as
he took his meals out of the house Beth never even saw him. One of the
girls who saw him in the hall one day described him as "just too nice
looking for anything," but Beth's interest was not aroused in the
stranger.
That was a golden autumn for Beth, the happiest by far she had ever
known. She was living life under that sweet plan of beginning every day
afresh, and thinking of some little act of kindness to be done. Beth
soon began to believe the girls of University College were the very
kindest in the world; but she would have been surprised, to hear how
often they remarked, "Beth Woodburn is always so kind!" There was
another treat that she was enjoying this year, and that was Dr. Tracy's
lectures.
"I think he is an ideal man," she remarked once to Mabel Clayton. "I'm
not in love with him, but I think he's an ideal man."
Mabel was an ardent admirer of Dr. Tracy's, too, but she could not help
laughing at Beth's statement.
"You are such a hero-worshipper, Beth!" she said. "You put a person up
on a pedestal, and then endow him with all the virtues under the sun."
A peculiar look crossed Beth's face. She remembered one whom she had
placed on the pedestal of genius, and the idol had fallen, shattered at
her feet.
She was still the same emotional Beth. There were times when without any
outward cause, seemingly from a mere overflow of happiness, she almost
cried out, "Oh stay, happy moment, till I drink to the full my draught
of joy!"
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