Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1874-05-14


Eunice Batcman was sitting at the par.
Tor window working on muslin dress, a
thing Of infinitesimal tucks and rufjles.
Her mother, a fat and fair lady of forty
five. sat opposite, talking TO an afternoon
visitor, a spinster Of her neighborhood.
Both takers were also busted with sew
ing.
Eunice a glance an she shifted needles,
AZ suppose you and the doctor will go 10
the parish picnic next weekW
Nix supposed So" In nonchalant fash
ion, as she brushed the curls ont of her
eyes and settled rufile straighter.
"Getting that dress ready for the oc-
casion, aren't your
"Not particularly" Nix answered, with
slrug Of her shoulders that betokened
impatience OF the questioning. Nix was
not especially fond Of Miss Clarke.
"Well, well, wouldn't spend too
much precious time over dresses The
doctors sure to think you pretty what
ever you wear, and you shouldn't think
too highly of the opinion Of other gentle.
men. When girls engaged"
Nix flushed with anger and gave the
muslin dress an impatient twitch as she
responded:
"pm not In the habit Of thinking too
much of gentlemen's opinion Of me, Miss
Clarke. suppose If a girl is engaged
she can still try to make herself look
nicely"
Speaking OF. the DOCTOR" said Mrs.
Bateman, "here comes his office boy
now--with note for you, Nix, guess
Sit still I'll open the door"
Mrs. Bateman presently rc-cntered, and
tossed sealed note into Nix's lap, with
the remark, q told you So"
The latter took il up, her round cheeks
deepening somewhat In color, for her en-
gagement was yet only month old,
opened and read 1t, watched by the curl
Gus eyes OF Miss Clarke. The letter was
in a bold, careless handwriting, and ran
thus:
MY DEAN NixIE--I'm called away TO the city
in. its consaitatin case hope 10 be- back by
Sunday. AT any rate shall BIO on hand for the
Tuesday picnic. I've only known OF going with.
bddsn ss week sa long ,me
10 be away. BE q good little girl, aud write 10 ms
every day. or shall throw up The ease and comg
home 10 you. Yours hastily, but In all affection,
JAMES.
P.s.-Rcad the inclosed slip OF paper; You will
find news In IL.
The printed slip had fallen to the floor.
Nix reached for IL with girls eager curl
I osity and read, with dilating eyes, one of
the quack advertisements OF the day:
uvsE Johnson's cream, .whito for the compile xion.
u Warranted to remove freckles and blotches.
Sold by all druggists
Nix read this paragraph through three
= "a four times with such blank look of
wonder on her face that the attention Of
her two companions was attracted. She
finally calculated, after the fifth reading,
finding the advertisement still riddle
"What does this meanp"
"MeanY Whats" exclaimed the Gu
rious spinster, dropping her knitting.
"What's the matterf" asked her moth.
But Nix was too busy with her own
wonderment and conjectures TO reply. She
sat with the slip still In her hand, staring
straight before her, only reiterating with
additional emphasis
"What can It meant"
There was large, old.fashioncd mirror
on the opposite wall, and just at this mo-,
ment Nix's puzzled eyes caught the ra
Election of herself therein--a clear refledg
tion, made more vivid by the slant rays
of the afternoon sun that fell upon her.
In an instant her cheeks, brow and neck
were suffused by an angry tide of Grim
son. The little hands that had held the
slip of paper loosely tore 1t into pieces
with sudden and savage spite, and, for
getting Miss Clarke, she exclaimed, pas
sionately;
"I'll never speak to him again
neveri"
"Eul.ice Batcman!"
Her mothers surprise could not OK.
press itself more strongly. Miss Clarke's
pale blue eyes cleaned behind their spec
&acles as she calculated:
What on earth has happened"
Nix shook the bits ofpaper through the
window with trembling hands. Half OF
them went on the carpet, but her eyes
were too full of tears to note It,
Il don't care. The impairment wretchl
How did he ever darel He claiming to
be gentleman, tool I'll make him sorry
for this, or my name Is not Eunice Bate
manw
Nix went on with perfect food. tide OF
words, utterly disregarding her mothers
attempts to check her and Miss Carke's
supplementary EXPLANATIONS. II was not
until the latter, rendered incautious by
eagerness, asked for the third time: " But
what was on the paper, anyway, Nixpn
that she stopped short In her angry speech
and, tossing the muslin dress on the floor
In heap, ran out of the room without
word OF answer.
Poor Mkt Her feelings were not amt
able as she sat down before the mirror In
her own little room, dashed away the
tears, pushed away the curls, and took a
long look at the dimpled face that had
seemed so satisfactorily pretty an hour
before. The brow, the bridge Of the nose,
and the cheeks Were slightly freckled;
there was no denying 1t, though the color
and the dimples were enough TO make one
forget the dcfecIs. Beside the left ear,
half hidden by willful short ringlets, was
q small brown discoloration. Nix was
too angry to cry again. She just opened
the bureau drawer, took out formidable
nile of letters In the same bold and care
icss handwriting, and shut them In box,