Part 37 (1/2)

It was late in the evening when she finished, and she had to put her work away in a hurry, because her mother sent Harriet to tell her she must go to bed; but all night long she lay only half asleep, and all the time conscious of joy to come in the morning.

She was up early, but had too much self-restraint to go to the acting-room till lessons were over. She was afraid of being disturbed and so having her pleasure spoilt. As soon as she could safely lock herself up, however, she took her treasure out. It was written on the precious half-sheets in queer little crabbed characters, very distinctly:--

Slips round the steady year, Days dawn and disappear, Winters and springs; March storms and clouds and rain, Till April once again Light with it brings.

Then comes the summer song, Birds in the woods prolong Day into night.

Hot after tepid showers Beats down this sun of ours, Upward the radiant flowers Look their delight.

O summer scents at noon!

O summer nights and moon!

Season of story.

Labour and love for ever Strengthen each hard endeavour, Now climb we up or never, Upward to glory!

Winter and summer past, Autumn has come at last, Hope in its keeping.

Beauty of tinted wood, Beauty of tranquil mood, Harvest of earned good Ripe for the reaping.

Thus on a torrid day Slipped my fond thoughts away, Book from thy pages.

Seasons of which I sing, Are they not like, my king, Thine own life's minist'ring In all its stages?

First in the spring, I ween, Were all thy powers foreseen-- Storms sowed renown.

Then came thy summer climb, Then came thy golden-prime, Then came thy harvest-time, Bringing thy crown.

When Beth had read these lines, she doubled the half sheets on which they were written, and put them in her pocket deliberately. She was sitting on the acting-room floor at the moment, near the window.

”Now,” she exclaimed, folding her delicate nervous hands on her lap, and looking up at the strip of sky above her, ”now I shall be forgiven!”

It was dark at this time when the boys left school in the evening, and Beth stood at the back-gate waiting to waylay Sammy. He came trotting along by himself, and saw her as he approached, but did not attempt to escape. On the contrary, he stopped, but he had nothing to say; the relief of finding her friendly again was too great for words. Had she looked out, she might have seen him any day since the event, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked as usual, prowling about, anxious to obtain a rea.s.suring smile from her on his way to and from school. It was not likely that he would lose the credit of being Beth Caldwell's sweetheart if he could help it, just because she beat him. Already he had suffered somewhat in prestige because he had not been seen with her so often lately; and he had been quite as miserable in his own way, under the impression that she meant to cast him off, as she had in hers.

”Come in, Sammy,” she cried, catching hold of his hand. ”Come in, I've something to show you; but it's too cold to sit in the wood-house, and we can't have a light there either. Come up by the pump to the acting-room. I've fastened the door inside, and n.o.body can get in.

Come! I'll show you the way.”

Sammy followed her obediently and in silence, although somewhat suspiciously as usual; but she piloted him safely, and, once in the acting-room, with the candle lighted, he owned that it was jolly.

”Sammy, I _have_ been sorry,” Beth began. ”I've been quite miserable about--you know what. It was horrid of me.”

”I told you scratch-cats were horrid,” said Sammy solemnly.

”But I've done something to atone,” Beth proceeded. ”Something came to me all about you. You shall have it, Sammy, to keep. Just listen, and I'll read it.”

Sammy listened with his mouth and eyes open, but when she had done he shook his head. ”You didn't make that up yourself,” he said decidedly.

”O Sammy! yes, I did,” Beth protested, taken aback and much pained.

”No, I don't believe you,” said Sammy. ”You got it out of a book.

You're always trying to stuff me up.”