forever now, the little Beth that he had loved and roamed with over
meadow and woodland and wayside, in the sunny, bygone days.

"Good-bye, Beth--little Beth." Poor Arthur!




CHAPTER VI.

_'VARSITY._


Friday morning came, the last day of September, and the train whistled
sharply as it steamed around the curve from Briarsfield with Beth at one
of the car-windows. It had almost choked her to say good-bye to her
father at the station, and she was still straining her eyes to catch the
last glimpse of home. She could see the two poplars at the gate almost
last of all, as the train bore her out into the open country. She looked
through her tears at the fields and hills, the stretches of woodland and
the old farm-houses, with the vines clambering over their porches, and
the tomatoes ripening in the kitchen window-sills. Gradually the tears
dried, for there is pleasure always in travelling through Western
Ontario, particularly on the lake-side, between Hamilton and Toronto.

Almost the first one Beth saw, as the train entered Toronto station,
was Clarence, scanning the car-windows eagerly for her face. Her eyes
beamed as he came toward her. She felt as if at home again. Marie had
secured her room for her, and Beth looked around with a pleased air when
the cab stopped on St. Mary's street. It was a row of three-storey brick