The Argosy, June 1904 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

510 Under the stress of the moment I so far foreot myself as to resent her rudeness in these words: “1 hope you will know me when we mect again,” and she retorted, greatly to the amusement of the entire car: “Well, I certainly hope I won't.” But I had the satisfaction of seeing her, from the car window, gather up a handful of blue petticoat frill before she could proceed. ‘lhe disagreeable thing,” myself, At the Waldorf, after I had adjusted my several veils, smoothed my pompa- dour and straightened my collar, 1 felt im a more amiable frame of mind. If sent up my card, and sat phiming my- self to cope with the perfections of Miss Natalie Blair. Miss Blair was out. How provoking! In the Turkish room I wrote her a note saying just how perfectly awfully disappointed I was, how I had looked forward to the eveat pleasure, and all Maude had said. low long would she be here? Perhaps even VEL, CUE. GLE. This I handed to the maid to be de- livered, thinking, as J caught a glimpse of my perfect- fitting gown, it really was a great pity Miss Blair was out. When I reached home, Candice brought me this card: Miss IT said to NATALIE DELMORE BLAIR, Wasurxeton, D. C. Why, IT turned it over: how strange!” a Unexpectedly we are leaving this afternoon. I wanted so much to meet you that I rushed down. Maude has told re bem ee THE ARGOSY. me so many lovely things—I know we shall be the best of friends. We want you to join us in a little Xmas frolie—will write, So sorry to miss you. N. D. B. Well, that is too bad, but at any rate the ambassadors and evergreens, aé Maude put it, seemed safe. The maid was waiting for my hat and gloves, I put down the card. “Why, Candice, was this work-box here when Miss Blair called ? ” “Oh, no, miss, L brought it in to tack Miss Blair’s skirt while she wa: writing—the frill was ripped.” i had seated myself at the piano and began to strum idly, fceling very satis- fied with things, after all. I stopped suddenly. “ Frill ripped.” It was as if the echo had just reached me. A eold chill ran down my back. “ Candice,’ I called loudly—she was just going out, was that frill blue?” “Yes, miss, the loveliest blue silk. She said a perfectly horrid woman stepped on it just as she was getting off the car—it was really too bad—such a pretty dress with parasol to match, and so becoming to her, being a blonde young lady.” “ Blonde young lady—blue silk frill spoqt heavens! “Candice,” I said coldly, you mended it well.” “Oh, ves, mad’m, but it really was too pe “ Candice,” savagely, “ that will do.” Now the question is—would you or would you not go to the Christmas house-party ? “T hope by nt na en tee mn eg WARM WEATHER REMARKS. THE blacksmith is shoeing the flies, His ardent son beams on a maid, While the dry goods dispenser i is muslin his dog And the lamp chimney sits in the shade. Society’s damsel departs To catch the fresh heir by the sea ; The heir with alacrity raises the wind, The damsel’s companion to be. The baseball is frequently hot, Quite ’orrid the dudish young f—1; The poem of passion is dreadfully warm, Tbe editor only is cool. PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG eomichbooks.c© ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED