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THE CHRISTIAN NATION. Vol. 69.<br />
A r o u n d t h e O l d<br />
Arm Chair<br />
THE WHITE CHALLIS.<br />
By Mildred Van Inwegen.<br />
"What's the matter, dear?" asked' Mrs.<br />
Warren, glancing at her daughter's clouded<br />
face.<br />
Amy<br />
"Disappointing news ?''<br />
laid down the letters she had been<br />
reading and shook her head.<br />
"It's Elizabeth Burnes's<br />
party," she replied.<br />
"I'm invited."<br />
A<br />
happy light leaped into Mrs. Warren's<br />
eyes and for the moment her pale, tired face<br />
radiated with pleasure.<br />
"'Really?" she cried.<br />
I'm so glad she included you!<br />
delighted?"<br />
"How lovely, Amy!<br />
Aren't you<br />
Amy shook her head. "No," she replied.<br />
"I'm not."<br />
Mrs. Warren looked at her in amazement.<br />
"You're not?" she echoed. "And why? Only<br />
last week you were hoping you would be<br />
fortunate enough to be invited and doubting<br />
that you would.<br />
I thought"-—<br />
"I know," broke in Amy. "And I did<br />
want to be invited then.<br />
I—I haven't a thing to wear."<br />
But I don't now.<br />
"There's your white challis," her mother<br />
reminded her.<br />
"You look so sweet in that.<br />
With a new sash, it would be very pretty<br />
and<br />
fresh"—<br />
"Mother!'' cried Amy. "That challis is<br />
three years oJd. I've worn it to everything.<br />
I hate it. The skirt is too full and the<br />
sleeves are all out of date. And, besides, no<br />
one wears challis nowadays. All the girls at<br />
school are having lovely new gowns, satins<br />
and silks and chiffons.<br />
That's all they talk<br />
about. Why, I can't wear that challis. You<br />
wouldn't ask me to if you understood."<br />
"It's a very sweet and girlish dress,," said<br />
lier mother.<br />
"And much more suitable for<br />
a school girl than the things they wear."<br />
"Perhaps it is," Amy conceded.<br />
"But the<br />
school girls I know aren't sweet and simple.<br />
They are g<strong>org</strong>eous fashion plates. Oh, dear,<br />
I'd like to have a real gown for once in my<br />
life."<br />
"And I should like to have one," said<br />
?ifrs. A\'arren, wistfully. "You don't know<br />
how it grieves me not to be able to give a'Ou<br />
everything"—<br />
There was such pain in her voice that<br />
'AiYiy glanced; at lier apprehensively. The<br />
next minute she had crossed the room and<br />
had flung her arms about her, crying:<br />
"Oh, mother, dear, don't say that! I'm a<br />
selfish pig!. I don't deserve a thing! You<br />
do' a great deal too much for me, anyway.<br />
I ought not to let you send me to the Academy.<br />
It's such an expense and we haven't<br />
money for luxuries."<br />
"A good education is never a luxury," said<br />
Mrs. Warren, smoothing the hair from her<br />
daughter's flushed forehead. "Ii want my<br />
girl tO' meet the best people. I want her to<br />
be invited to th.eir parties, too."<br />
"Don't you worry aboyt me," Amy exclaimed.<br />
"I don't care about parties. I'll<br />
send my regrets."<br />
"No, you won't send your regrets," said<br />
Mrs. Warren. "I want you to go."<br />
"But I can't wear the challis," Amy declared,<br />
almost tearfully. "I can't. Really I<br />
can't. The Academy girls are always so exquisitely<br />
dressed"—<br />
"I'm sure you look quite as well as any<br />
of them"—<br />
"In school, yes, but at parties,, it's different.<br />
Some of them will have Paris frocks,<br />
Mother—beautiful, shimmery things"—<br />
"Clothes aren't everything," said Mrs.<br />
Warren. "Elizabeth Burnes is a lady and<br />
won't care in the least what you wear. If<br />
she likes you, and she surely does, else you<br />
would not be invited to this party, it won't<br />
make any difference to her whether you<br />
come in a Paquin creation or a challis<br />
dress"—<br />
"Oh, Mother, you don't know," said Amy.<br />
"Clothes mean everything, .nowadays. If yoti<br />
don't look well, no one will pay the least<br />
attention to you. You wouldn't want me to<br />
be a wallflower, would you?''<br />
Mrs. Warren looked at her daughter's<br />
lovely hair and pretty, clear coloring and<br />
smiled. "I hardly think you need worry<br />
about that,'' she said reassuringly. "You<br />
must go, Amy. I'll remodel the challis, and<br />
we'll buy a blue sash and I'll wager you'll<br />
be the prettiest girl in the room."<br />
Amy sighed dolefully at the thought of a<br />
made-over dress, but she wrote out her acceptance,<br />
nevertheless, and dropped it in the<br />
mail box. That afternoon Mrs. Warren began<br />
to rip apart the offensive challis. Amy<br />
watched her fearsomely and as the days<br />
slipped by and the dress neared completion,<br />
she felt actual misery. At school the leading<br />
topics of conversation were draped<br />
gowns, gold embroidered laces, veiled overdresses<br />
and even trains. The sig-'ht of her<br />
own challis made her want to scream. IXIrs.<br />
Warren sewed morning, noon and night, and<br />
seeing her, bending patiently over her tedious<br />
task, gave Amy pangs of remorse.<br />
"I ought to be asharned," she told herself.<br />
"Mother is such a dear, but she can't understand.<br />
Oh, I don't want to go. I can't go."<br />
The night of the party finallv cnme. .\mv<br />
dressed for it in silence, dumblv viewin';- the<br />
marks of former stitches that ivould show in<br />
spite of all their pressing. The sash covered<br />
a darned place and the bottom of the skii<br />
was faced. Nevertheless, Amy was surprise<br />
when she saw her reflection in the mirroi<br />
Her mother had done some exquisite em<br />
broidering about the neck and sleeves am<br />
the ribbon sash had a decidedly French'<br />
twist. While she was studying these details<br />
her mother came in with a box.<br />
Wonderingly, Ainy took the box from he<br />
and lifted the cover. A shimmering scarf o:<br />
.blue and silver was disclosed. With littlf<br />
shrieks of delight Amy took it out. 4<br />
"Oh, Mother!" she cried. "How exquisite<br />
! But you shouldn't have bought it" j<br />
"It's a birthday present in advance," saic<br />
her mother, her own face radiating with delight.<br />
"And I -got it at a sale. There*<br />
Throw it about your shoulders. Oh, howpretty!<br />
It just wa-^^J-your dress!" S<br />
"It's be-^a«tiful," said Ainy, fervently. '<br />
Pier joy was not lasting, however. Foi<br />
when she was driving away in the carriage<br />
to the beautiful Burnes' home, vision of<br />
the finery her friends would wear dancer<br />
before her. How old and made-over hei<br />
dress would look against theirs!! How mn,<br />
of date she was! ,^<br />
She shrank into the friendly darkness ant;<br />
shed teairs of chagrin. |j<br />
Mrs. Warren had seen the dumb miser32<br />
in her eyes and it cut her keenly. With a<br />
sigh she closed the door on the departing<br />
vehicle and returned to a long, lonely even-s<br />
ling. Time dragged endlessly. At twelve:<br />
she went into the tiny kitchen and made<br />
some hot chocolate and sandwiches. Therfe<br />
Amy found her when she came flying in. t<br />
"Oh, Mother, Mother!" slie cried, her eyer<br />
glowing like stars and her cheeks the coloiof<br />
roses. "I had a beautiful time. Oh, if<br />
was perfect! I wouldn't have missed it for<br />
anything. I'm so glad you made me go." ,<br />
Her mother hugged her happily. "I kne*.<br />
you'd enjoy it," she said. "Now sit downs<br />
here and sip this chocolate and tell me alk<br />
about it from start to finish."<br />
,'<br />
Amy plunged into her recital and Mra^<br />
Warren listened in delight. • .^<br />
"I've discovered," said Amy, in conolusionjj<br />
"that with the right people clothes don't<br />
matter. Paul Burnes chose me for the cotillion<br />
when I W'as sitting right by Elsie<br />
Hathway, who looked like a dream in a.<br />
Paris gown. And Wesley Mills, Elizabeth's,<br />
rich cousin from the East, took me in tc<br />
supper. Think of it, Mother! But the<br />
nicest ,thing of all was when Mrs. Burnes<br />
told her husband that I had on the prettiest<br />
dress in the room. She asked me where I<br />
got it, and I told her, and I showed her the<br />
darn, too. She said she thought yoti must<br />
be a wonderful mother. And you are! Oh,<br />
I'm so happy! I just love my white chains<br />
dress. It was the only real dress there he-^<br />
cause a real person made it."—Congregationalist.