“Still, he isn’t a writer like Clarence,” she thought, “and he doesn’t know how to praise like Clarence does.”

“But Arthur,” she said, finally speaking her thoughts aloud; “you speak as though I could change my way of writing merely by resolving to.  I can write only as nature allows.”

“That’s too sentimental, Beth; just like your writing.  You are a little bit visionary.”

“But there are gloomy and visionary writers as well as cheerful ones.  Both have their place.”

“I do not believe, Beth, that gloom has a place in this bright earth of ours.  Sadness and sorrow will come, but there is sweetness in the cup as well.  The clouds drift by with the hours, Beth, but the blue sky stands firm throughout all time.”

She caught sight of Clarence coming as he was speaking, and scarcely heeded his last words, but nevertheless they fastened themselves in her mind, and in after years she recalled them.

Clarence and Arthur had never met before face to face, and somehow there was something striking about the two as they did so.  Arthur was only a few years older, but he looked so manly and mature beside Clarence.  They smiled kindly when Beth introduced them, and she felt sure that they approved of each other.  Arthur withdrew soon, and Beth wondered if he had any suspicion of the truth.

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.”