within.  He realized now that he had never known what it meant to love.  Marie had shed her lustre on him as she passed; Beth he had never fully comprehended.  He had a dim feeling that she was somehow too high for him.  But would this reverence he felt for her ripen into love with the maturer years of his manhood?  We never can tell the changes that time will weave in these hearts of ours.  It is to be feared Clarence was not a very attentive listener throughout the service that night.  At the close he waited for Beth in the moonlight outside, but she did not notice him till he was right beside her.

“Clarence!” she exclaimed, in a tone of astonishment.  “Why, I thought you were in England.”

“So I was; but I am back, you see.”

“I thought you were going to take a year at Cambridge.”

“I did intend to, but I found it too expensive.  Besides, I thought I wouldn’t bother finishing my course.  I am doing some work along the journalistic line at present.  I just came to Toronto last night, and intend to leave Tuesday or Wednesday.”

In the first moment of her surprise she had forgotten everything except that Clarence was an old friend from home; but now, as he walked beside her, it all came back like a flash—­the memory of that night last summer when she had seen him last.  She grew suddenly silent and embarrassed.  She longed to ask him about Marie; she wondered if they were engaged, and if so where she was, but she soon controlled herself and asked him about his trip to England, about his mother, about his work, about Edith and everything else of possible or impossible interest.  She was relieved, without knowing why, that it was only a few blocks to her boarding-place.  He lingered a moment as he said good-night, and something in his look touched her a little.  Only the stirring of old memories.  She hardly knew whether she was pleased or not to meet him again; but as she entered her room in the darkness her dream seemed to flash across her memory and a tender voice said, “Follow me.”

Clarence strolled a little way into the park, pondering on the past.  He had never asked Beth for an explanation of her farewell note.  He naturally supposed that Arthur Grafton had gone directly to her that night and caused the rupture.  He wondered if Arthur were in love with her.  Then he turned suddenly and walked back by St. Mary’s Street to Yonge.  The street was almost deserted; there was only one figure in sight, a tall man drawing nearer.  There was No.——­, where he had left Beth at the door.  He had just passed a few more doors when a familiar voice startled him.  It was Arthur Grafton!  Clarence felt ill at ease for a moment, but Arthur’s tone was so kind it dispelled his embarrassment.  They talked for a few moments, then parted; and Clarence, looking back a moment later, saw Arthur ring the bell at Beth’s boarding-place.  A peculiar look, almost a sneer, crossed his face for a moment.