Norwich bulletin., 1913-06-05

last Sundays sermon, or a new plan fer decorating the church next Easter. There had, however been one glori- ous period of freedom-she had spent two years at boarding school, had played basketball as hilariously as any girl on the team had eaten Welsh rarebits, cooked at midnight covered transoms and chinked doors, with the same temerity shown by the girls who 1 had lawyers or doctors for fathers. And best of all-she had become ac- quainted with vivacIous Esie Bourland l whose mother was French and whose father considered life worth living, and the world a jolly place to live in. Contrary to the Ideas that like seeks like-the two girls, so different, had l formed fast friendship. When Dick B0ur1and, who practiced law in a city neighboring school, paid his weekly visits to his sister, he pro nounced demure little Esther Blake al together 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, whit ten a nice little note and invited the girl to come for a visit that she might get acquainted with her future rela tives.
 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 plannings of the possibilities of the case.
 T really don't see how I can go, mamma, she said, finally. Tt is inn possible for papa to afford it now
 Her mother tapped her pen medita- lively against the inkstand and tried to help her plan.
 You can get your railway fare at half rate. you know, my dear-that helps some, and you could alter my new gray crepe and make 1t look youthful enough for a calling dress. Then you have your white commence ment dress There's small founda- tion, you see to begin with
 Esther came over and sat on a stool by her mothers knee.
 q can't help wanting his people to think I'm nice-and for him to be proud of me. You understand, don't you, motherkins ?'
 Mrs. Blake patted her on the back and her eyes grew misty.
 Yes, yes, dearie 1 understand per fectly-but I 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 daughter
 Esther kissed her impulsively You are the best kind of comforter mother mine. Come, let's look over the remnants of our wardrobe, and see if we can't accomplish some of those wonderful things one reads about on the Women's Page. How to make a handsome evening dress out of an old lace curtain, or a dressing SacQue made out of six handkerchief trim med with your fathers old necl1ties r0I1 irfn cd crin
 Mrs. Blake laughed. and followed her upstairs. They soon had the girls bed covered with odds and ends ran sacked from both wardrobes.
 Esther sat down, an old-fashioned lavender and white delaine dress that had belonged to her mothers more youthful days lying in her lap. T really can make up a lovely little evening dress out of this,' she exulted. T wonder it's not been made over long ago.
 Mrs Blake did not tell her she had kept 1t packed away in lavender and tender memories, because 1t was the dress she had worn as a bride the first Sunday at St Johns when she came back to the then strange town.
 'I can manage with the dresses but I don't see how anything else than a mircle could produce the shoes and gloves that ought to go with them One could perhaps find a recipe for a pair of long white gloves to go with the short elbow sleeves 1 intend mak- ing for my little lavender dress if there only were time to read enough woman's pages. They might say, Take the old silk stockings of your Aunt Eliza and crochet a proper fin ish, fastening with the pearl buttons taken from your grandfather's white moire vest'-but I'm sure it would take more intellect than I can com mand to put them together properly and envolve a pair of long white gloves.
 Mrs. Blake suddenly sparkled with animation.
 why, Esther Blake! Speaking of miracles-Pve had a pair of white gloves, the kind you want, lying in the bottom of my trunk for five years. They may be a little yellow-but we can have them cleaned, and there's plenty of time for the odor of gasoline to wear off them
 She didn't tell the girl the history of those gloves.
 Five years before. when the rector was having more financial difficulties than it seemed rights for one man to have, he had read the marriage ser vice for one of the Wealthiest young men in the town. It was a quiet home