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Page 8
Once alone with her, Clarence drew her to his heart in true lover-like
fashion.
"Oh, Clarence, don't! People will see you."
"Suppose they do. You are mine."
"But you mustn't tell it, Clarence. You won't, will you?"
He yielded to her in a pleasant teasing fashion.
"Have you had a talk with your father, Beth?"
"Yes," she answered seriously, "and I rather hoped he would take it
differently."
"I had hoped so, too; but, still, he doesn't oppose us, and he will
become more reconciled after a while, you know, when he sees what it is
to have a son. Of course, he thinks us very young; but still I think we
are more mature than many young people of our age."
Beth's face looked changed in the last twenty-four hours. She had a more
satisfied, womanly look. Perhaps that love-craving heart of hers had
been too empty.
"I have been looking at the upstair rooms at home," said Clarence.
"There will have to be some alterations before our marriage."
"Why, Clarence!" she exclaimed, laughing; "you talk as though we were
going off to Gretna Green to be married next week."
"Sure enough, the time is a long way off, but it's well to be looking
ahead. There are two nice sunny rooms on the south side. One of them
would be so nice for study and writing. It has a window looking south
toward the lake, and another west. You were always fond of watching the
sun set, Beth. But you must come and look at them. Let's see, to-day's
Saturday. Come early next week; I shall be away over Sunday, you know."
"Yes, you told me so last night."
"Did I tell you of our expected guest?" he asked, after a pause. "Miss
Marie de Vere, the daughter of an old friend of my mother's. Her father
was a Frenchman, an aristocrat, quite wealthy, and Marie is the only
child, an orphan. My mother has asked her here for a few weeks."
"Isn't it a striking name?" said Beth, "Marie de Vere, pretty, too. I
wonder what she will be like."
"I hope you will like her, Beth. She makes her home in Toronto, and it
would be nice if you became friends. You will be a stranger in Toronto,
you know, next winter. How nice it will be to have you there while I am
there, Beth. I can see you quite often then. Only I hate to have you
study so hard."
"Oh, but then it won't hurt my brain, you know. Thoughts of you will
interrupt my studies so often" she said, with a coquettish smile.
Clarence told her some amusing anecdotes of 'Varsity life, then went
away early, as he was going to leave the village for a day or two.
Beth hurried off to the kitchen to help Aunt Prudence. It was unusual
for her to give any attention to housework, but a new interest in
domestic affairs seemed to have aroused within her to-day.
The next day was Sunday, and somehow it seemed unusually sacred to Beth.
The Woodburn household was at church quite early, and Beth sat gazing
out of the window at the parsonage across the road. It was so
home-like--a great square old brick, with a group of hollyhocks beside
the study window.
The services that day seemed unusually sweet, particularly the
Sunday-school hour. Beth's attention wandered from the lesson once or
twice, and she noticed Arthur in the opposite corner teaching a class of
little girls--little tots in white dresses. He looked so pleased and
self-forgetful. Beth had never seen him look like that before; and the
children were open-eyed. She saw him again at the close of the
Sunday-school, a little light-haired creature in his arms.
"Why, Arthur, I didn't think you were so fond of children."
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