Arthur! Was it possible he could play like that? She made a striking
picture as she stood there on the stairs, her great grey eyes drinking
in the music: but she was relieved somehow when it ceased. It was
bright, quick, inspiring; but it seemed to make her forget her new-born
joy while it lasted.




CHAPTER III.

_WHITHER, BETH?_


Beth was lying in the hammock, watching the white clouds chase each
other over the sky. Her face was quite unclouded, though the morning had
not passed just as she had hoped. It was the next afternoon after she
had taken tea at the Mayfair's, and Clarence had come to see her father
that morning. They had had a long talk in the study, and Beth had sat in
her room anxiously pulling to pieces the roses that grew at her window.
After a little while she was called down. Clarence was gone, and she
thought her father did not look quite satisfied, though he smiled as she
sat down beside him.

"Beth, I am sorry you are engaged so young," he said gently. "Are you
sure you love him, Beth?"

"Oh, yes, papa, dear. You don't understand," and she put both arms
about his neck. "I am in love, truly. Believe me, I shall be happy."