"Clarence is delicate, too," said her father with a grave look.

They were both silent for a few minutes.

"But, after all, he cannot marry for three or four years to come, and
you must take your college course, Beth."

They were silent again for a moment.

"Well, God bless you, Beth, my darling child." There were tears in his
eyes, and his voice was very gentle. He kissed her and went out to his
office.

What a dear old father he was! Only Beth wished he had looked more
hopeful and enthusiastic over the change in her life. Aunt Prudence had
been told before dinner, and she had taken it in a provokingly quiet
fashion that perplexed Beth. What was the matter with them all? Did they
think Clarence the pale-faced boy that he looked? They were quite
mistaken. Clarence was a man.

So Miss Beth reasoned, and the cloud passed off her brow, for, after
all, matters were about as they were before. The morning had been rather
pleasant, too. Arthur had played some of his sweet old pieces, and then
asked as a return favor to see some of her writing. She had given him
several copies of the Briarsfield _Echo_, and he was still reading. In
spite of her thoughts of Clarence, she wondered now and again what
Arthur would think of her. Would he be proud of his old play-mate? He
came across the lawn at last and drew one of the chairs up beside the
hammock.