"Please put up your book and sing something for me, won't you?"
Beulah looked at the serene countenance, so full of resignation, and
answered gloomily: "What! are you, too, tired of listening to this storm-anthem nature
has treated us to for the last two days? It seems to me the very
universe, animate and inanimate, is indulging in an uncontrollable
fit of the 'blues.' One would almost think the dead-march was being
played up and down the aisles of creation."
She pressed her hands to her hot brow, as if to wipe away the
cobwebs that dimmed her vision, and, raising the lid of the piano,
ran her fingers over the keys.
"Sing me something hopeful and heart-cheering," said Clara.
"I have no songs of that description."
"Yes, you have: 'Look Aloft' and the 'Psalm of Life.'"
"No, no. Impossible. I could not sing either now," replied Beulah,
averting her face.
"Why not now? They are the excelsior strains of struggling pilgrims.
They were written for the dark hours of life."
"They are a mockery to me. Ask me for anything else," said she,
compressing her lips.
Clara leaned her arm on the piano, and, looking sadly at her
companion, said, as if with a painful effort: "Beulah, in a little while we shall be separated, and only the All-
Father knows whether we shall meet on earth again. My application
for that situation as governess up the country brought me an answer
to-day. I am to go very soon."
Beulah made no reply, and Clara continued sorrowfully: "It is very painful to leave my few remaining friends and go among
perfect strangers, but it is best that I should." She leaned her
head on her hand, and wept.
"Why is it best?"
"Because here I am constantly reminded of other days and other
hopes, now lying dead on my heart. But we will not speak of this. Of
all my ties here, my love for you is now the strongest. Oh, Beulah,
our friendship has been sacred, and I dread the loneliness which
will be my portion when hundreds of miles lie between us! The links
that bind orphan hearts like ours are more lasting than all others."
"I shall be left entirely alone, if you accept this situation. You
have long been my only companion. Don't leave me, Clara," murmured
Beulah, while her lips writhed and quivered.
"You will have the Asburys still, and they are sincere friends."