The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-10-10
Our Daily $bcrt Story

died up," as old nanny used to gay and I cnst work so we'll Here, let me hold your coat"
 was too dazed to speak. As she started to go she brightened up for a moment.
 "of course they knew you would decline she explained. "and they i'm vited you just to spite me. Good-by. dearr'
 The lace fell unheeded again when Clare was once more alone. And that is the world have left she whispered.
 And the world that Is calling me to return! Neverf' she exclaimed aloud. T was undecided before Julia came; now, am sure of myself. It Is clear that I can never live with her. nor allow her to help me: and better live here alone forever than marry the senator, or any other man simply for money. There. will settle that mat ter at once.'
 Fiinsing her work aside she crossed to the desk and wrote rapidly. Then she ran down the stairs and dropped the note into letter box just across the street. When she returned she had acquired the habit of talking to herself. for at time 1t was q relief to hear even her own voice break the silence.
 'uood-by to the senator forever she sang. Farewell to his money and all that 1t can buyl Why, believe feel better already. I believe 1t was that money that was nseking me blue. Now will work hard; for like work and the life here--aIl but Sundays and holidays-they dragr'
 Thanksgiving day had just passed. Clare had spent it alone, trying to think of lons list of reasons for be- ing thankful. Some way the list was rather short. Her mind he'd persist ed in veering of to q certain young man with boyiish face and iaughins eyes--a friend of long ago. She kept wondering why he had gone away so suddenly. At times she had thought that his eyes told a story that would have been worth listening to; but he had gone without a word. Since she had been. living alone she had thought of him often.
 The senator, and all the advantages he could offer, being definitely re- fused, Clare grew brighter. and the tired look left her face. She often on toward Christmas. All invitations
 
 ing she arose as usual and began to paint. Soon she threw down her brush ins despair.
 .Tts no use; oan't todayr' she said. mournfuliy. T do really hate holidays. Everything will go all Right tomorrow. but for today-I must give 1t up"
 To pass the time away she began to look through some of her fathers old books; but her mind still wandered of to the laughing blue eyes. She re- membered. with start that N was just one year since she had seen him. There had been company--she- haG slipped away to the library for a stolen glimpse of book she was read ing. He had followed and they had q happy half hour together. Then some one called. and when at last she returned the room was empty. She had never seen him since. What was 1t she had been reading? Oh, yes, Vanity FairF She looked through the books. and when she found it touched 1t tenderly. They had dis eussed 1t together! eomeway. the laughing blue eyes seemed very near
 If he had said only one word" she murmured.
 suddenly something white and bulky fell from the book to her lap. She caught her breath as she saw that tt was letter with an unbroken seal She knew the. writing--and her hands trembled. In a flash she saw 1t all He had left 1t in the book she had been reading. thinking che would find it at once. And she had not opened the book sincel As she read. tears filled her eyes; 1t was the outpouring of a boyfsh soul, revealing his love and asking her to wait. When she reached the end she bowed her head and wept tears of joy.
 "A would rathr have one letter like this," she sobbed. than a thousand senators, with all their money! do ot3think I dislike holidays so much after all!''
 ~Christmas evening was spent in writing page after page Of explansa tions. There were so many that the letter was much over weight.
 The last days of the year slipped rapidly by, and no reply came. Glare began to look anxious. All sorts oi fears beset her: she could not account for his silence. Finally came the last day of the year--and still no reply. Another holiday tomorrowP' Glare groaned. How I hate themr' She re- tired early and cried herself to sleep dreaming all night of deaths. sickness murders. fires and many horrible. i'm possible things. A vigorous knocking
 awoke her early in the morning. Telegram, ma'am" said voice Glare dressed as hastily as possible, q terrible fear at her heart. Her dreaml must have meant trouble of sorns kind, and she felt that it had come