Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1898-08-25

o4SS
her garrison and Cheyenne intimates
and acquaintances, however, Fanny
Turner had no such admission to make.
She could not help seeing, she said the
havoc played with the cuticle of the
other ladies. Even their bride, the love
ly blond, Mrs. Billy Ray, had COM
pletely lost, said Mrs Turner, the deli
cate bloom and softness of her fair
white skin. ''But as for me, :" she con-
tinued, 81 declare it seems to make no
difference whatever. -
Certainly, under the light of the
lamps and candles of the hoproom, her
complexion seemed as peachy as on her
wedding day, ID years gone by. But
there were a dozen women in garrison
who were ready to explain and account
for that. No one in this regiment,
said the colonel 5 wife, "can approach
Fanny Turner in the art of making up.
She's 80 if she's week old, and she
dances and dresses and decorates as
though she were not 20. ="
All of which was practically true.
Spoiled and petted by an overindulgent
mother in her girlhood, Fanny had no
idea of any will or way but her own
when she married Captain Turner He
had fallen deeply in love with her
when home wounded after Cedar Creek
in the fell of 1864. He was the hero of
unelr semirural community, and she
married him because he was so much
thought of and admired by some of the
others. For several weeks Turner
thought himself the happiest and luck
lest OF men to have captured this fair
young beauty, and then disillusion set
in, and one disappointment followed an
other. She was empty headed, frivolous,
fond of every kind of social gayety, but
with neither heart nor hand for domes-
tic duty of any kind. She loved to
dance, and his wounds had put an end
to even the little he ever knew of that
art. She gloried in the attentions of the
society and garrison beaus they met
and plainly showed him he was often
in the way. She was recklessly extrav-
agant in her tastes and spent his saw
ings with lavish hand, principally on
herself in dress or jewelry. She had
been denied almost everything Of the
kind at home, for her parents had been
for years in straitened circumstances.
Turner, deeply in love, could deny her
nothing until his savings were exhaust
ed and they had to come down to his
pay. She read nothing but novels. She
knew nothing but garrison gossip and
how to make herself look fascinating.
She had fund Of small talk and fac
ulty of setting her cap for each new
young officer that Joined the regiment,
speedily fascinating him and attaching
him for term of months, or possibly q
year, to her apron strings. She was art
less, kittenish, contidingly, trustingly
youthful, this mature dame of 81,
when out in society or among her sis
tiers of the garrison. but it was any
thing but fresh, youthful, radiant
girl that came yawning languidly down
the stairs this dark March morning and
with a why didn't you order your
breakfast earlier if you wanted it?' and
barely glance at her spouse passed
him by without other salutation and
took her seat behind the coffeepot at
the head Of the table.
II much preferred to wait for you,"
said Turner gently. He had never re-
buked, rarely attempted to correct her,
since the initial attempt that we'll nigh
wrecked their honeymoon. He could
not scold her now, yet his heart ached
at her Indifference. and his weary eyes