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Page 5
"When is it to be?"
"September. And you will be my bridesmaid, won't you, dear?"
Beth promised.
"Oh, Beth, I think marriage is the grandest institution God ever made."
Beth had a strange dream-like look in her eyes, and the tea-bell broke
their reverie.
Mr. Ashley had dropped in for tea, and Clarence sat beside Beth, with
Edith and her betrothed opposite. It was so pleasant and home-like,
with the pink cluster of roses smiling in at the window.
After tea, Edith and Mr. Ashley seemed prepared for a _t�te-�-t�te_, in
which Mrs. Mayfair was also interested; and Clarence took Beth around to
the conservatory to see a night-blooming cirius. It was not out yet, and
so they went for a promenade through the long grounds toward the lake.
Beth never forgot that walk in all her life to come. Somehow she did not
seem herself. All her ambition and struggle seemed at rest. She was a
child, a careless child, and the flowers bloomed around her, and
Clarence was at her side. The lake was very calm when they reached it;
the stars were shining faintly, and they could see Long Point Island
like a long dark line in the distant water.
"Arthur is going to take me over to the island this week," said Beth.
They had just reached a little cliff jutting out over the water. It was,
perhaps, one of the most picturesque scenes on the shores of Lake Erie.
"Wouldn't it be grand to be on this cliff and watch a thunderstorm
coming up over the lake?" said Beth.
"You are very daring Beth--Miss Woodburn. Edith would rather hide her
head under the blankets."
"Do you know, I really love thunderstorms," continued Beth. "It is such
a nice safe feeling to lie quiet and sheltered in bed and hear the
thunder crash and the storm beat outside. Somehow, I always feel more
deeply that God is great and powerful, and that the world has a live
ruler." She stopped rather suddenly. Clarence never touched on religious
subjects in conversation--
"Dear, what a ducking Arthur and I got in a thunderstorm one time. We
were out hazel-nutting and--"
"Do you always call Mr. Grafton Arthur?" interrupted Clarence, a little
impatiently.
"Oh, yes! Why, how funny it would seem to call Arthur Mr. Grafton!"
"Beth"--he grew paler and his voice almost trembled,--"Beth, do you love
Arthur Grafton?"
"Love Arthur! Why, dear, no! I never thought of it. He's just like my
brother. Besides," she continued after a pause, "Arthur is going away
off somewhere to be a missionary, and I don't think I could be happy if
I married a man who wasn't a writer."
That was very naive of Beth. She forgot Clarence's literary
pretensions.
"Then can you love me, Beth? Don't you see that I love you?"
There was a moment's silence. Their eyes met in a long, earnest look. An
impulse of tenderness came over her, and she threw both arms about his
neck as he clasped her to his breast. The stars were shining above and
the water breaking at their feet. They understood each other without
words.
"Oh, Clarence, I am so happy, so very happy!"
The night air wafted the fragrance of roses about them like incense.
They walked on along the shore, happy lovers, weaving their life-dreams
under the soft sky of that summer night.
"I wonder if anyone else is as happy as we are, Beth!"
"Oh, Clarence, how good we ought to be! I mean to always be kinder and
to try and make other people happy, too."
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