and the pictures grew dimmer
on the wall, and Marie would play soft love-songs on her guitar, and
sometime Beth would recite one of her poems.

"Have you finished the novel you were writing last summer, Beth?" asked
Marie, one day.

"No, there are just three more chapters, and I am going to leave them
till holidays, next summer, so I can give them my full time and
attention."

"Tell me the story."

Then Beth sat by the fire with a dreamy look on her face and told the
plot of her story. Marie leaned forward, a bright, delighted sparkle in
her dark eyes. Beth had never interested her like that before. She felt
encouraged, and Marie was in raptures when she had finished.

"It's just splendid! Oh, Beth, how clever you are; you will be famous
soon. I shall be proud of your friendship."

Beth did not enjoy as much of the company of Clarence as she had hoped
during these days, though he always brought her home from church on
Sunday evening. Marie was always with them. Beth never thought of
leaving her, and Clarence, too, seemed to enjoy her company. Beth was
pleased at this; she liked to have Clarence appreciate her friends.
Then, they three often went to the musical concerts; Beth liked those
concerts so much, and Marie's face would fairly sparkle sometimes, and
change with every wave of music.

"Just look! Isn't Marie's face grand?" said Clarence one night in a
concert.

Beth only smiled. That night she sat in the rocker opposite her mirror
and looked at her own reflection.

"What a grave, grey-eyed face it is!" she thought. She loved music and
beautiful things, and yet she wondered why her eyes never sparkled and
glowed like Marie's. She wished they had more expression. And yet Marie
was not a pretty girl: no one would have thought for a moment of
calling her pretty.

But what of Arthur? Beth was surprised that during all this time she had
seen him but once, though she lived so near to Victoria. That once was
in the University hall. She had studied late one afternoon, in the
reading-room, after the other girls were gone, and it was just where the
two corridors met that she came face to face with Arthur. He stopped,
and inquired about her studies and her health, and his eyes rested
kindly upon her for a moment; but he did not speak to her just like the
old Arthur. "Good-bye, Beth--little Beth." She recalled the words as she
passed down the long, deserted hall, with its row of lights on either
side.

There was