Palisadian. [volume] (Cliffside Park, N.J.) 1906-current, 1921-09-03
MISS EMILY
By BERTHA RICE.

uCh' AISI SOpd IOOhS, SOOu ldSle
charming clothes successfully camou-
tagged her thirty-fve years to an easy
twenty Eight. She had good sense,
TOO, and admitted that life was be-
coming increasingly stale.
1t was the Father of His Country's
birthday, therefore a holiday. Miss
Emily hated holidays, the time for
family get-togethers. firing of re-
Election. she decided to take a walk.
Katie kommon, rosy, freckled
maid of twenty, walked listlessly
down Pedigree avenue, on which was
the home of Miss Van Dustin. She
had no place to go and no compan-
ions. A holiday was such a useless
gift.
1t was a mild sunny day, and she
took seat in the little park that ter
minated the avenue. Self-pity usually
ends in tears. Being alone she cried
unrestrainedly.
'What is the matter?"
I'm Katie konInon and I'm a gen,
eral in Mrs Coates family"
"a general?"
leSSull. GENERAL Hldlu.
"Oh! Haven't you any friends in
the city,"
''No'm. I'm stranger, and don't
know anybody. l want chum to go
around with, like other girls"
Were both i'll the same boat, Katie.
want chum, too. Come home with
me, and We'll finish this tiresome hol-
lday together"
Katie looked at the beautifully
gOwned lady beside her in astonish-
ment as she stammered, "Why, IL
couldn't"
''Oh, yes, you can. Come"
They soon reached the Van Dustin
residence. Admitting with a latch
key, Miss Emily led the way to her
den, which was arranged for tea.
Now, Katie" she said as she made
the tea, tell me where your home
Isl"
''In Maine. Father is dead, and
I'm The oldest of five. 1 send money
home to help out"
"And you've no friends here?'
Nom. It's awful. lonely. Sundays
and holidays are the worst. I'd like
to belong to club, or something"
katie, let's start club of Two,
said Emily. There's a sunny, front
room on the second floor that We'll
use for a clubroom. 1t shall be open
to lonely girls, ON Sundays and holi
days"
''Wherell you find girls?"
''Ill find them. Will you come next
sunday? Well have music, talks and
eats, to start with" ~
"Oh, I'd love to-"
The Sunday newspapers carried the
following advertisement:
WANTED, dozen lonely girls, the
lonelier the better. Apply at q Ped
igree avenue on Sunday"
Loneliness and curiosity, both, in
duced ten girls to investigate, and
they found a cordial welcome. Over
the tea and cakes Miss Van Dustin
explained her project.
And that was the beginning of the
holiday club, and-of something else.
Among those who read the adver-
tisement was Mrs. Cornelia brewster
Van Dustin, possessor Of the bluest Of
blue blood, society leader, and aunt to
| Miss Emily She was shocked, horri-
fed, wrathful.
She summoned a family council,
and ordered that Emily be ostraciZed
If she refused to abandon her plebeian
club. Some demurred, but none dared
oppose. The ultimatum was deliv-
cred by Aunt Cornelia over the tele-
phone.
"Oh, fudge" said Miss Emily, drop
ping the receiver.
But she felt hurt, however, when,
a fortnight later, Mrs. Van Dustin
gave a brilliant social affair to which
her niece was not invited.
A week later a conspicuous sign in
black and white hung from the sec
ond-story window of the Van Dustin
ancestral home. 1t announced "a
! Holiday Club for Working Girls. Come
In"
The sign arrested the attention of
a man who was walking down Pedi-
gree avenue. He was about forty,
| tall, and "fine lookin'," so Katie said.
! He hesitated a moment, then crossed
The street and rang the bell of No. 81.
The man assembled the stairs, and
entered the room without knocking.
He had walked half the distance to
the piano, where Miss Emily was
seated, when she turned.
Robert !" she exclaimed in confu-
sion. Then, "Will you be seated, Mr.
Sherrold?' she primly invited.
emily" said her caller, ignoring
her invitation, what does that sign
meant"
"Why do you ask?"
"You know why. We parted be-
cause l couldn't live your rapid, So
ciety life, and you wouldn't live the
broader life with me-"
With one stride he reached her and