The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1905-12-30
Selett Stnrp.
Clare'S Holiday !
BY EDITH NJ. BLANCHARD.

Outside, the snow lay thick and white.
Inside, a young girl stared out upon it
with unseeing eyes. Some fine lace that
she was making had slipped unheeded to
her lap, and she did not notice the tiny
blasts of cold that swept in through the
cracks near the window, sometimes with
such force that they stirred the locks of
her rich brown hair.
For long time she sat thinking; then,
suddenly, sleigh dashed rapidly by, leav
ing confused picture of splendid horses,
flashing harnesses, tur robes and tinkling
bells, She drew back quickly; but not
before the man in the sleigh had seen her
and lifted his cap. With tinge Of color
in her cheeks she picked up the lace and
began to work rapidly, just as the door
was thrown open.
"Well, Clare, working as hard as ever,
| seer' was the visitors greeting. She
was very fashionably dressed. Even her
voice had the latest fashionable drawl.
Clare thought involuntarily Of a fashion
plate as she helped remove the costly furs
and expensive hat.
II passed the senator as came in, -
she remarked, with sharp, inquisitive
glance, seating herself on the wide win
dow seat, where she could see everything
inside or outside the ROOM \ trihe more
color came to Clare's cheeks
eyes, | saw him drive BY" she an
swered Then there was silence. The
visitor drummed on the window pane.
"Well,' she finally inquired ''haven' t
you anything to tell me? Isn't it settled
yet? Haven't you seen the folly of stick
ing here, when you might have more
money than you could spend
"And disreputable old man thrown
in!'' flashed Clare. "Now, let's not go
all over the old ground again. We have
done it so often before, you know, with no
good results | have as much right to
my opinions as you have to yours. You
made your own choice, and took wealth
and position-and the man But why
bother about me? You have everything
you want.
eyes, and some things l don't want
among them sister who disgraces men'
Clare looked up proudly, "You will
apologize for that word, or you and [ will
never meet again. she said, calmly
Mrs. Singleton saw the danger signal in
her eyes.
"Oh, 1 will, of courser' she exclaimed.
''But | really do not know what word to
use in its place. You are the one thing
that keeps me back, socially; every once
in while people mention my 'seamstress
sister Ever since Lady Herford heard
it she has taken pains to inquire for you
every time we meet. | was not invited to
her last dinner, either, and [ am sure it
was on account of you,' she finished, in
an aggrieved tone.
''Poor Julia!' exclaimed her sister,
half mockingly. II am not seamstress.
But don't you think they would better
call me one than to say sold myself for
gold?'
Mrs. Singleton shrugged her shoulders.
eff you are going to get personal, |
think I'll go, she said, rising "But,
Clare, if you won't say yes to the SEN
ator, please, oh, please leave all this and
live with me. Perhaps society will take
you back after while.
A peculiar smile fitted across Clare $
face
''Do you really think SOP she inquired.
Mrs. Singleton pondered.
eyes | do,' she finally said. "Of
course it will mean lot of hard work !;
they won't forget for long while. But
| think it might be managed. .
Then Clare laughed outright, and laugh
ed again at Mrs. Singleton s surprise.
'Let me see, julia" she said gently.
'It is now six months since father died
and | came here to earn my own living by
painting and making lace. Yes, | know
I refused to share your home, and insisted
on coming to this 'unfashionable street.
And this, you say, has cost me my position
in society? Will you open that top drawer
of the desk See what is there.
"Why, it is full of letters-invita-
tions!' exclaimed Mrs. Singleton, doing
as she was requested. "What Do you
mean to say you've been receiving them
all the timer
"Several every day." carelessly.
"And you never told me You always
were the oldest person l ever saw, and
what this? The Hon. George Werner S
dinner and Louis Beresford'sT' she ex-
claimed, enviously. "Lady 1erford s.,
too!' she almost screamed. "And you
refused invitations that half the town would
have given anything to get! Are you
crazy?"
''No, not quite" laughed Clare. "But
| think [ shall be if you do not 90 soon,
Julia. You get me all 'muddled up" as
old nanny used to say, and I can't work
so well. Here, let me hold your coat. :"
Mrs. Singleton dressed silently. She
was too dazed to speak. As she started
to go she frightened up for a moment.
"Of course they knew you would de-
cline" she explained, "and they invited
you just to spite me. Good bye, dear!"
The lace fell unheeded again when
Clare was once more alone.
"And that is the world | have leftI'
she whispered.
"And the world that is calling me to
return! Nevery' she exclaimed aloud.
II was undecided before Julia came; now,
1 am sure of myself. 1t is clear that l
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, I will settle
that matter at once.
Flinging 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 waltzed gaily around the
room. She had acquired the habit of
talking to herself, for at times it was relief
to hear even her own voice break the
silence.
"Good bye to the senator forever, she
sang. "Farewell to his money and all
that it can buy Why, | believe I feel
better already. I believe it was that
monev that was making me blue. Now [