The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-01-08

ol0z7NMMNQ&&@ her ' foot on tn
VV WV Wv carpet. "Do 70
suppose I don't knowit perfectly we'll
And that is what makes it so hard
oh, so cruelty hard to bear!''
The fact was that Mr.. and Mrs
Walter May had begun life at tn
wrong end.
Clara Calthorpe was pretty youn
girl, just out Of the hotbed atmospher
of q fashionable boarding school
Walter May was bank clerk who ha'
not the least doubt but that he shoul'
ultimately make his fortune out O
stocks and bonds.
"Clara," he had said to his youn,
wife while the golden circle of tn
honeymoon was yet overshadowiny
their lives, "would you like countr.
life?"
"Oh, dear, mol" said Clara, in
voluntarily recoiling. !
Because" said Walter, somewha
wistfully, "my father and mother are
alone on the old farm, and T think
they would like to have US come ano
live with them"
II shouldn't like it at ALL" said
Clara, land mamma says no young
bride should ever settle down among
her husbands relations"
Mr.. May frowned little, but Mrs.
Clara had a pretty positive way of her
own, and he demonstrated no further.
But at the years end Walter Nav
had lost his situation, the clouds Of
debt had gathered darkly around them,
and all the pretty, new furniture,
Eastlake cabinets, china dragons,
proof engravings and hot-house plants
were sold under the red flag. They
had made a complete failure of the
housekeeping business, and now, in
the fourth story of a third-rate hotel,
Mr.. and Mrs. Walter May were look
ing their future in the face,
Clara had been extravaganza. There
was no sort of doubt about that. She
had given recherche" little parties.
which she couldn't afford, to people
who didn't care for her. She had
patterned her tiny establishment after
models which were far beyond her
reach, and now they were ruined.
She had sent ear-besprinkled
letter to her mother, who was in
Washington trying to ensnare a rich
husband for her younger daughter,
but Mrs. Calthorpe had written hastily
back that it was quite impossible for
her to be in New York at that time of
year and still more impossible to re-
'eive Mrs. Walter May at the monster
hotel where she was boarding. And
Clara, who had always had vague
dea that her mother was selfish, was
quite certain Of it now.
"There is but one thing left for You,
CLARA" said Walter, sadly.
"And that"
IT'S to go back to the old farm. II
lave no longer a home to offer you,
'ut you will be sure Of q warm wei.
'ome from my father and mother. II
hall remain here and do my best to |
'btain some new situation which will |
'nable me to earn our daily bread"
CLARA burst into tears.
"Go to my husbands relations?"
he sobbed. "Oh, Walter, I cannot!'
'You will have to-" he said, logged
?, 'or else starvep'
So Mrs. May packed up her trunk
nd obeyed. And all the way to
iazeloopse Farm she cried behind her
ell and pictured to herself stony
aoed old man with virago of wife,
no would set her to doing mental
asks and overwhelm her with re-
reaches for having ruined "poor,
ear Walter" AS for the farmhouse
self she was quite sure it was a DESC
te place, with corn and potatoes
rowing under the very windows, and
10 road in front filled with plows and
gs and harrows and broken cart
heels. But in the midst of her tears
I'd desolation the driver called out:
"Hazelcopse Farm! Mr.. Noah
avs! Here's the 'ouse, ma'am."
A long, low, gray stone mansion. all
lrlanded with ivy, its windows bright
it'll geranium blossoms and the scar.
t autumn leaves raining down on the
'lvet-smooth lawn in front. Clara
uld just see how erroneous had been ]
her preconceived ideas, when she :
und herself clasped in the arms of !
9 sweetest and most motherly of old ]
dies.
my poor dear!" said old Mrs. May,
ressingly.
you are as welcome as the sun I
inc, dauShter," said a smiling old
ntleman in spectacles. \
And Clara was established in the
sy chair in front of q great fire of
ne logs, and tea was brought in and 1
Q two old people cossetted and
tied her as if she had been a three
ar-old child, just recovering from T
9 measles.