The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1906-06-21
Her Husbands Relations.
BY Amy Randolph.

SoNA IVA AeNA SA~N oehN
Walter May.
"Of course 1t u.s." cried out Clara,
passionately stamping her foot on the
carpet. do you suppose I don't know
it perfectly we'll? And that is what
makes it SO hard-oh, so cruelty hard
to bear!"
The fact was th.t Mr.. and Mrs. Wal
ter May had begun life at the wrong
end.
Clara Calthorpe was a pretty young
girl, just out of the hotbed atmosphere
Of a fashionable boarding school.
Walter May was a bank clerk who
had not the least doubt but that he
should ultimately make his fortune
out OF stocks and bonds.
Clara" he said to his young wife
while the golden circ'e Of the honey
moon was yet Overshadowing their
lives, would you like a country life?"
"Oh, dear moi" said Clara i~nvolun-
tarily recoiling.
Because" said Walter somewhat
wistfully, my father and mother are
alone on the farm and l think they
would like to have us come and live
with them"
Il shouldn't like it at ALL" said
Clara, land mamma says no young
bride shcu'd ever settle down among
her husbands relations"
Mr.. May frowned a little, but Mrs.
Clara 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 darby around them
and all the pretty, new furniture, East
lake cabinets, china dragons, proof en-
cravings and hot house plants were
sold under the red flag. They had
made a complete failure of the house
keeping business, and now, in the
fourth story of a third-rate hotel, Mr..
and Mrs. May were looking their fu-
ture in the face.
Clara had been eXtravagant. 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 a tear-besprinkled let
ter to her mother who was in Wash
ington trying to ensnare a rich hus-
band for her younger daughter, but
Mrs. Calthorpe had hastily written
back that 1t was quite impossible for
her to be in New York at that time
Of year and still more impossible to
receive Mrs. Walter May at the mon
ster hotel where she was boarding.
And Clara, who had always had a
vague idea that her mother was self
ish, was quite certain of it now.
There is but one thing left for you,
Clara said Walter sadly.
And that"
is to go back to the old farm. I
have no longer a home to offer you,
but you will be sure of a warm well
come from my father and mother.
l shall remain here and do my best
to obtain some new situation which
will enable men 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 logged
ly, "or else starve."
So Mrs. May packed up her trunk
and obeyed. All the way to Hazel
copse Farm she cried beh nd her veil
and pictured to herself a stony-faced
old man with a virago of a wife. who
would set her to doing mental tasks
and velwhe,m her with r%eproaches
for having ruined poor, dear Walter"
AS for the farmhouse itself, she was
quite sure it was a desolate pace, with
corn and potatoes g owing under the
very windows, and the road in front
filled with pows and pigs and har-
rows and broken cart wheels. But in
the midst of her tears and %desolation
the driver called out:
"Hazelcopse Farm! Mr.. Noah Mays!
Here's tn 'ouse, ma'am.
A long low gray stone mansion, all
garlanded 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 err
roneous had been all her preconceived
ideas, when she found herself clasped
in the arms of the sweetest and most
motherly Of old ladies.
my poor dear!" said old Mrs May,
ca%ressingly.
you are welcome as the sunshine,
daughter" said a smiling old gentle
man in spectac'es.
And Clara was es' ablished in the
easy chair in frcnt Of a great fire of
pine logs, and tea was brought in and
the two old people cossetted and pet
ted her as II she had been a three
year-old child just recovering from
the measles.
There was not a word Of reproaeh-
not q questioning look, not q sidelong
glance-all welcome, and tenderness
and loving commiseration. And when
Clara went to sleep that night. with