Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 343: what you’re looking at

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

334 liant I have ever attended. I wore my pearl gray with a wealth of pale pink roses; such beauties they were. Sen- ator Wyeth sent me a large basket of them. He has been very kind to me, has sent me flowers several times and has taken me to ride all about the city; says he used to know my husband quite well. ‘IT have just ordered a dress for the affair at Professor Baer’s. It will be a beauty—a yellow silk of the palest shade, the color we used to wear in our girl days, Eleanor; you remember? [| wonder if it will be as becoming now. They tell me my complexion is still good. I have some of my old color leit. I shall wear a great bunch of Marie Louise violets ; I have just set my heart on that, and no jewels except the great amethyst crescent in my hair. | shall look stunning, Eleanor; don’t you think so? “ IT have been taking singing lessons of Professor Baer, and my _ voice has improved wonderfully under his training. I sang twice last evening. Senator Wyeth says my voice is the finest contralto he ever heard. Of course that 1s only a b*t of nonsense, but he is not the only one who says so. If I were younger my head would be turned with so much flattery. As it is, I am only glad to be able to give a little pleasure.” The second letter was in much the same strain, except that toward the last there was a little note of regret that she was so soon to leave Washington. ‘“T shall go home next week,” she wrote. “I have had so good a time I am reluctant to leave, yet I shall be glad to get a little rest; society life is so wearing. Of course I shall have more or less of it at home; indeed, I could never settle down quietly after all this. until John comes home, then I suppose he will want me to go out a great deal with him. We shall entertain more or _ less. “Tam going to bring out my young I shall keep quiet a little while, © THE ARGOSY. ° niece, Edna Willis, next winter. She is a little blonde beauty, and will be one of the prettiest of society buds. So you see life is very full, but you must not think it is all fashion and frivolity, Fleanor—we do sometimes think of other things, you know.” “Annis seems to be having a fine time,” Mrs. Bray remarked, as she took the letters from John Denham’s hand. “ She was not a society bud very long; she married so young, but she has de- veloped into a magnificent society blossom. I am glad she has not settled down into a demure little home body. I used to fear she would, and she never said much of herself in her letters.” Mrs. Bray remarked afterward to her husband that John Denham was not feeling well; “ he seemed a little con- fused and said he should not stay in London much longer. He will start for home in a few days. Perhaps he is a little homesick.” Two weeks later John Denham crossed the threshold of his own home. His wife came forward to meet him with a warm, glad greeting, and for a time he forgot all but that he was at home once more. He was weary of travel and sight seeing, and the dear home was sweet and restful. Annis’ face was bright and happy with the joy of his return, but when he found time to think he realized, not with regret, but with more or less of surprise, that he had not found just what he expected. Here was Annis, sweet and restful looking, her face lighted with happi- ness because he was with her again, but the same quiet, plain little woman he had parted from three months be- fore—her gray hair drawn plainly back from her pale face, her dark dress neat and trim, but devoid of style or beauty. Where was the dashing woman of so- ciety that had been photographed on his mind from the reading of those letters? Could she have so completely — settled into herself again after all that gay Washington experience? P CONNICLOO© SS CO