The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1898-04-09
at is your fault, Clara" slid Walter


sonately stamping her foot on the carpet
ado you suppose don't know it perfectly
well? 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 the wrong end
Clara Balthorpe was q pretty young girl
just out of the hotbed atmosphere OF a
fashionable school. Walter May was a
bank clerk who had not tine least doubt
that he should make his fortune out OF
stocks and bonds.
'Clara, " he said to the young wife while
the golden circle of the honeymoon was
yet overshadowing their lives, would you
like a country life?"
ooh, dear, noD said Clara, Involuntary
Iecoling
Because" said Walter, somewhat visit
fully, "my father and mother are alone on
the old farm, and think they would like
to have us come and live with them
81 shouldn't like it at all,' said Clara,
'and mamma say that no young bride
should ever settle down among her hus
bands relations"
Mr.. May frowned little, but Mrs. May
had a pretty positive way of her own and
he demonstrated no further.
But at the years end Walter May had
lost his situation the clouds of debt had
gathered darkly around them and all the
china dragons, proof engravngs 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 thrdrate hotel Mr.. and
Mrs Walter May were looking their future
in the face.
Clara had been eXtravagant. There was
no sort of doubt about that. She had
given recherche" little parties, which she
could not afford, to people who didn't care
for her. She had patterned her tiny estab-
lishment after models which were far be-
yond her reach, and now they were ruined
She had sent r-besprinkled letter to
her mother who was in Washington trying
to ensnare a rich husband for her younger
daughter, but Mrs. Balthorpe had hastily
written back that it was quite impossible
for her to be in New York at that time Of
the year. and still more impossible to re-
ceive Mrs. Walter May at the monster
hotel where she was boarding. And Clara,
who always had a vague idea that her
mother was selfish was quite certain of it
now.
''Thcre is but one thing left for you,
Clara, - said Walter, sadly.
"And that"
''Is to 90 back to the old farm. | have
no longer home to offer to you, but you
will be sure of warm welcome from my
father and mother. / shall remain here
and do my best to obtain some new situa-
ton which will enable me to earn our daily
Bread
Clara burst into tears
GO to my husbands relations" she
sobbed. "Oh, Walter, I cannot"
"You will have to-" he said doggedly,
So Mrs. May packed her trunk and
obeyed And all the way to Hazelcopse
farm she cried behind her veil and pictured
to herself stony-face old n,,u with a
virago OF wife, who Set ner to doing
mental tasks and overwheln ed her with le-
proaches for having ruined poor, dear
Walter" As for the farm house itself,
she was quite sure it was desOlate place,
with corn and potatoes growing under the
very windows and the road in front filled
with plows and pigs and harrows and
broken cart wheels. But in the midst of
her tears and desolation the driver called
out
"Hazelcopse farm! Mr.. Noah May S!
Here's the house, ma am. "
A long, low gray stone mansion, all gar
landed with ivy, its windows bright with
geranium blossoms and the scarlet autumn
leaves raining down on the velvet smooth
lawn IN front Clara could just see how
erroneous had been all her preconceived
ideas, when she found herself clasped in
the arms OF the sweetest and most motherIy
of old ladies.
"NIy poor dear!' said Mrs. Nav. caress-
ingly.
"You are welcome as the sunshine
daughter" said smiling old gentleman
in spectacles.
And Clara was established in the easv
chair in front of the great fire of pine lops
and tea was brought in, and the two old
people cosseted and petted her as if she
had been three-year-old child just recov-
erng from the measles
There was not word of reproach-not
a sidelong glance-all welcome and tender,
ness and loving commiseraton. And wher
Clara went to sleep that night with woot
fire gancng and glimmering softly ovel
the crimson hangings of the chest cham
her," she began to think that perhaps sh'
had been mistaken in some of her ideas.