bitious when she came home that first vacation. She had conceived a fresh ideal of womanhood, a woman not only brilliantly educated and accomplished, but also

d in the mysteries of the pastry board. Aunt Prudence was a little astonished, but she never would approve of Beth's way

d that story was almost finished, that story on which she had built so many hopes. She sat in her room with the great pile of written sheets before her, almost finished; but her head was weary, and she did not feel equal to writing the closing scen

the window and

w minister and his wi

was going to p

hodist minister, was just now occu

ome to town. I wonder if they will be

n't been marrie

the quietly eager enquiry-"do you still t

reply. "Yes, Beth, I think it the very

like Arthur

hear of him.

e he is," said Bet

h Beth to dinner, after

e the new minis

e's a clever l

man of progressive ideas. I think we s

arence was growing strangely quiet and unconfidential. He was certainly not a demonstrative lover. Perhaps, after all, love was not all she had dreamed. She had painted her dreamland too bright. She did not acknowledge this thought, e

n the night air! It was all ended now-that dreamland which she had lived and loved and gave expression to on those sheets of paper. Ended! And she was sitting there with her pen in her hand, her work finished, bending over it as a mother does over her child. She almost dreaded to resign it to a publisher, to cast it upon the world. And

as scarcely ten minutes' walk. She would get back before her father returned, and no one would know. Seizing her hat, she went quietly out. It was a freak, but then Be

e. The library window was quite close to the door of the side hall, and as Beth came u

parted in a smile. There was a picture of the Crucifixion on the wall above them, and rich violet curtains hanging to one side. One of Marie's slender olive hands re

nt to tell y

? Then

e to say it,

do. Te

emed to tremble faintly, and his face grew p

but it seemed like years. The dark, blushing girl, the weak, fair-haired youth in whom she had placed her trust, the pictures, the cushions, the curtains, every detail o

illed her room with a flood of unnatural light just as she entered. She threw herself upon her pillow, and a cry of pain went up from her wounded heart. She started the next instant in fear lest some one had heard. But no, there was no one near here, save that loving One who hears every moan; and Beth had not learned yet that He can lull

ew paler still, but her eyes burned. She rose

h her white lips. "It is her fault. It is her fa

to exhaust Beth. She was not a passionate girl. Perhaps, never in her life before had she passed

the same spot where she had stood, and his attention was arrested by the same scene in the library. He paused but a moment before entering, but even his firm tread was unheard on the soft carpet, as he strode up the

. "Clarence Mayfair, you dare to speak words of love to that

Clarence, and Marie drew bac

shoulder, and, white with fear, he

! And you claim her hand

hur's dark eyes flashed with fire. There was a shade of pitiful scorn in them, too. After all, what a mere boy this delicate youth loo

d her," said Clarence, in a chok

that touched Arthur, and as he raised his face to that pi

hard for a man to see another treat the woman he-well, there, I'll sa

aven knows I have alway

you have seen me to-night," said Arthur, as he turned t

er know he had been near. He had come under cover of the darkness, and had seen her descending the great wide stairway in her white muslin dress, and going down the dark street toward the Mayfairs'. After a little while he had followed, even approached the windows of Clarence Mayfair's home, hoping for one last look. But he had passed her in the shadow of the trees, and had only seen what filled his heart with sorrow. A meaner man would have taken advantage of the sight, and exposed his rival. But Arthur had anything but a mean soul. He b

roses in her hands. Oh, was there a God in heaven who could look down on her sorrow to-night, and not in pity call her home? She listened for the call that would bear her far beyond this earthly strife, where all was such tangle and confusion. She listened, but she heard it not, and the darkness deepened, the moon grew pale and the stars faded away. The house was so still! The whistle of a steam-engine broke the silence, and she saw the red light as the train swept around the curve. It was bearing Arthur away, and she did not know that one who loved her had been so near! Then she saw a grey gleam in the east. Ah

ought. "He loves her. I will not stand in th

of note-paper, and wr

e. I know your secret. I know you love Marie. I have seen it often in your ey

th

ning walk. The smoke-wreaths were curling upward from the kitchen chimneys as she passed down the street, an

she was not able to come down to breakfast. Her fath

rest. That's just what's the matter," he said, in a brusque

at she had taken last night to show Clarence. Yes, the work was done. She had reached the

e read her note wi

so quickly. A tale-bearer! Well, it's all for the best. I made

fternoon, but she was still quite pale when

eck, "you were always so kind. You never refuse me anyth

at I've been telling you? Stop writing all day in that hot room up

ternoon. She did not see Clarence during the next morning. It surprised her that he soug