The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1906-09-12

| hSlueE Oldh0 lett CSEIdlA Iudb In0kC
were positions In life that she would
have found less trying than that Of
only child of a popular minister. She
loved the dear old rectory. with its
shabby furniture; she had grown up
feeling that the beautiful gray stone
church with the stained glass windows
was part OF the family possessions:
but, while these things helped make
the condition pleasanter, they did not
keep her from wanting the things that
other girls had and to do the things
that other girls did.
Christmas after Christmas her lips
had quivered when she had received
from one to a dozen handsome Bibles
from the friends In her fathers con-
gregation. Her mother had q sense of
humor, and when Esther on her TWEEN
tieth birthday received Bible No. 81
she laughed and told her daughter that
for Christmas she would buy her an
adjustable extension bookcase. There
seemed nothing else that she needed
quite so much.
The girls face seemed half divided
between desire to laugh and to cry.
at don't see why they think I don't
want a trinket occasionally-a fan, a
bracelet or something a little bit friv-
olous, mamma" she said. 81 have
nineteen Madonnas hanging In my
room, and I have received at various
times a copy of almost every religious
picture ever printed. OF course like
them, but wish could be considered
as mere girl some time and not part
of st. Johns church"
She had as a little girl cheerfully
given up the dancing lessons that she
wanted. She was never invited to card
parties because each and every hostess
felt tiny bit doubtful as to whether
It would be suitable to extend such in
vitation to her.
Even the dinner parties and Ice
cream festivals had failed to be partic-
ularly interesting to her-for If there
were q curate or theological student
among the guests she was sure to have
him assigned to her. AS schoolgirl
she had stolen furtive glances at the
college boys who wore their hair long
and played football-there was some
| thing fascinating in the jolly way they
| laughed-and she had wished that her
hostess would understand that she
would like occasionally the girlish fri
volity of eating a philopena with foot
ball youth. But they never did under
stand, and she continued to discuss
with curates the last Sundays sermon
or a new plan for decorating the
church next Easter.
There had, however, been one glori-
GUS period of freedom-she had spent
two years at a boarding school, had
played basketball as hilariously as any
girl on the team, had eaten welsh rare
bits, cooked at midnight behind COW
cred transoms and chinked doors, with
the same temerity shown by the girls
who had lawyers or doctors for ia
Tiers.
And, best of all, she had become &C
quainted with vivacious Elise Bour-
land, whose mother was French and
whose father considered life worth Ev-
ing and the world jolly place to live
In.
Contrary to the idea that like seeks
like, the two girls, so different, had
formed a fast friendship.
When Dick Bourland, who practiced
law In a city neighbortng the school,
paid his weekly visits to his sister, he
pronounced demure little Esther Blake
altogether charming. At the close Of
school he told her so, and, finding that
she admitted having exactly the same
opinion Of him, he had taken the long
journey to reach the little South Caro-
lima town and state the case to the
rector.
Dicks mother had, upon the an
nouncement Of the engagement, writ
ten q nice little note and invited the
girl to come for a visit that she might
get acquainted with her future rela-
lives.
The girl stood In the library by the
window watching the rain that had
been steadily pouring all the forenoon,
puckering her forehead in anxious plan
nings of the possibilities Of the case.
81 really don't see how I can go,
mamma" she said finally. 'It Is i'm
possible for papa to afford it now"
Her mother tapped her pen medlta-
lively against the inkstand and tried
to help her plan.
you get your railway fare at half
rate, you know, my dear-that helps
some-and you could alter my new gray
Grape and make 1t look youthful enough
for a calling dress. Then you have
your white commencement dress.
There's a small foundation, you see, to
begin with"
Esther came over and sat on a stool
by her mothers knee.
81 can't help wanting his people to
think I'm nice-and for him to be proud
Of me. You understand, don't you,
motherkinsT'
Mrs. Blake patted her on the back
and her eyes grew misty.
Yes. yes, dearie, understand per-
fectly-but also remember that Dick
loved my girl for herself-when she |
didn't have half the pretty clothes the
other girls were able to afford. That's |
the thing to keep IN mind, little daugh- |
ter" |
Esther kissed her impulslvely. You |
are the best kind Of comforter, |
mother NINE Come, let's look over the |
remnants of our wardrobes and see If |
we can't accomplish some of those Won |
derful things one reads about on the |
woman's page-'How to make hand |
some evening dress out Of an old lace |
curtain or a dressing sack out Of |
a silk handkerchief trimmed with your |
fathers old neckties plated into tiny |
edgfngs.'"
Mrs. Blake laughed and followed her |
upstairs. They soon had the girls bed
covered with odds and ends ransacked |
from both wardrobes.
Esther finally sat down, an old FASH
Toned lavender and white delaine dress
that had belonged to her mothers more
youthful days lying In her lap.
81 really can make up lovely little
evening dress out Of this" she exulted.
az wonder it's not been made over long
ago."