"Mr.—whom did you say?" asked Beth.
"Mr. Grafton. Did you know him? A tall, dark fellow! Goes to Victoria. Quite good-looking!"
"Why, surely, can it be Arthur Grafton! That's just who it is! Why, how funny we never met each other coming in and out!"
"Did you know him, Beth?" asked Mabel. "I met him once or twice in the halls, but I didn't know you knew him."
"Yes, I have known him ever since we were children."
"Oh, then you have heard him play," said Mrs. Owens. "He played for us Thanksgiving eve. He's a splendid musician."
Beth felt just a tinge of disappointment that night as she passed the closed door of the room Arthur had occupied. She wondered why he never tried to find her. It was unkind of him to break the old friendship so coldly. It was not her fault she could not love him, she thought. She could never, never do that! In fact, she did not believe she would ever love any man.
"Some people are not made for marriage, and I think I'm one of them." And Beth sighed faintly and fell asleep.