|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 38
Beth had glided from the room, and left her alone with the man she
loved; but in a few minutes he called her and Mrs. Bartram to the
bed-side. Marie was almost past speaking, but she stretched forth her
arms to Beth and drew her young head down upon her breast. There was
silence for a few minutes, broken only by Marie's hoarse breathing.
"Jesus, my Redeemer," her pale lips murmured faintly, then the
heart-throbs beneath Beth's ear were still; the slender hand fell
helpless on the counterpane; the brilliant eyes were closed; Marie was
gone!
When Beth came to look at her again she lay smiling in her white,
flowing garment, a single lily in her clasped hands. Poor Marie! She had
loved and suffered, and now it was ended. Aye, but she had done more
than suffer. She had refused the man she loved for his sake and for the
sake of another. Her sacrifice had been in vain, but the love that
sacrificed itself--was that vain? Ah, no! Sweet, brave Marie!
Her friends thought it a strange request of hers to be buried at
Briarsfield, but it was granted. Her vast wealth--as she had died
childless--went, by the provisions of her father's will, to a distant
cousin, but her jewels she left to Beth. The following afternoon Mr.
Perth read the funeral service, and they lowered the lovely burden in
the shadow of the pines at the corner of the Briarsfield church-yard.
There in that quiet village she had first seen him she loved. After all
her gay social life she sought its quiet at last, and the stars of that
summer night looked down on her new-made grave.
The following day Mr. Perth laid a colored envelope from a large
publishing firm in Beth's lap. They had accepted her last story for a
good round sum, accompanied by most flattering words of encouragement.
As she read the commendatory words, she smiled at the thought of having
at least one talent to use in her Master's service. Yes, Beth Woodburn
of Briarsfield would be famous after all. It was no vain dream of her
childhood.
Four weeks passed and Beth had finished her preparations for returning
to college in the fall. In a few weeks she would be leaving May and the
dear old parsonage, but she would be glad to be back at 'Varsity again.
There came a day of heavy rain, and she went out on an errand of charity
for May. When she returned, late in the afternoon, she heard Mr. Perth
talking to someone in the study, but that was nothing unusual. The rain
was just ceasing, and the sun suddenly broke through the clouds, filling
all the west with glory. Beth went down into the garden to drink in the
beauty. Rugged clouds stood out like hills of fire fringed with gold,
and the great sea of purple and crimson overhead died away in the soft
flush of the east, while the wet foliage of the trees and gardens shone
like gold beneath the clouds. It was glorious! She had never seen
anything like it before. Look! there were two clouds of flame parting
about the sunset like a gateway into the beyond, and within all looked
peaceful and golden. Somehow it made her think of Marie. Poor Marie!
Why had Clarence's love for her been unreal? Why could she not have
lived and they been happy together? Love and suffering! And what had
love brought to her? Only pain. 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."
There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Didn't I always take care
of you when you were little?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|