ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE.
The Plankenhorst family in Vienna was an entirely respectable one,
although its name lacked the prefix which denotes nobility.
Nevertheless the widow was honoured with the title of baroness, as she
was of noble birth, and her daughter, too, was similarly addressed by
her admirers. They lived in a house of their own in the inner city;
and that signifies a great deal in Vienna. But the house was an
old-fashioned one, built in the style of Maria Theresa, and the ground
floor was given up to shops. They were admitted to court circles and
were often seen there; yet it was the men rather than the women that
sought their society. Barons and princes not seldom offered an arm to
the amiable Madame Antoinette to escort her to the supper-room, or
begged of the charming Miss Alfonsine the pleasure of a dance. But no
baron or prince was ever known to seek an intimate acquaintance with
either of them.
Their receptions were well attended, and it was there that many
political and love intrigues were hatched. To be sure, the
Sedlniczkys, the Insaghis, and the Apponys never graced these
functions, but their secretaries were to be seen there. No one ever
thought of seeking the Princes WindischgrA¤tz and Colloredo in that
house; yet military celebrities with decorated breasts and gold-laced
collars were to be found there in plenty, as well as jovial officers
and guardsmen of good family. The ladies, too, in attendance, both
matrons and misses, belonged to families distinguished either for high
official station or for birth.
The tone of these assemblies was thoroughly respectable, while they
offered peculiar facilities for enjoying oneself without irksome
restraint,--an advantage not found everywhere.
For all that, however, when at nine o'clock of the appointed evening
JenA' betook himself in full evening dress to his brother's quarters,
he found the young cavalry officer not yet attired for the reception,
and, apparently, utterly indifferent to the great pleasure awaiting
him. He was lying on his lounge, reading a novel.
"Well, aren't you going to the party?" asked the younger brother.
"What party?"
"At the Plankenhorsts'."
"There now, I had forgotten all about it," exclaimed Richard,
springing up and summoning his servant.
"Do tell me, Richard, why you have such an aversion to these people?
They are so friendly and cordial, and one is always sure to pass a
pleasant evening at their house."
"What's wanted now?" inquired Paul, appearing at the door.
"Come in, Paul, and shave me," returned his master.
The old hussar was barber as well as cook.
"Why don't you answer my question?" persisted JenA', while old Paul
beat up the lather. "What have you against the Plankenhorsts?"
"The deuce take me if I can tell," answered Richard; "but they are
such tuft-hunters!"
"Better not talk now, or I shall be cutting your face," interposed the
old servant. "Let the young gentleman go on ahead, and you can follow
him as soon as I have made you presentable. You won't need any rope
ladder or skeleton key to get into the Plankenhorst house."
JenA' adopted this suggestion, and half an hour later his brother
joined him in the Plankenhorst parlours. JenA' hastened to present the
newcomer to the hostess and her daughter, both of whom remembered that
they had already had the pleasure of meeting him. The mother declared
herself delighted to welcome him under her own roof, to which Richard
replied with an appropriate compliment, and then made room for other
arrivals.
"Shall I introduce you to some of the people here?" asked JenA'.
"No, don't trouble yourself; I know them better than you do. That
marshal over there, with the military figure and a voice as loud as if
he were commanding a brigade, is an officer in the commissary
department. He spends his time in weighing out provender, and has
never smelt gunpowder except on the emperor's birthday. The young
prince yonder, with the condescending smile and his eye-glasses stuck
high up on his nose, is secretary to the chief of police, and a very
influential man. The duenna in the coffee-coloured dress and with
paint on her cheeks, is the wife of Blumenbach, the banker, who lends
money to the spendthrift young aristocrats, and, consequently, knows
all that is going on in high society. And the young lady near us,
talking and smiling so confidentially with a young man about your age,
is the most accomplished detective that ever ferreted out a secret;
but aside from that she is a very nice little innocent creature."
JenA' felt not entirely at his ease as he listened to his brother, whom
he suspected of entertaining no very high opinion of the whole
company.
"The little maid that I met on the stairs," resumed Richard, "pleases
me more than all this company put together. I don't know whether she
belongs in the house, but I came here to-night wholly on her account.
I pinched her cheek as she was running away from me, and she gave me a
slap on the hand that I can feel now."
The last words received but scant attention from JenA', as a certain
illustrious ornament of society had caught sight of the two brothers
and was hastening toward them. He was a tall, angular man, with a
sharp nose and a little pointed beard. Greeting JenA' on the way, he
made straight for the elder brother, and placed his bony hand
familiarly on the young man's shoulder.
"Your humble servant, my dear Richard!" he exclaimed in Hungarian.
The other returned the greeting with much coolness and indifference.
The angular gentleman pulled at his beard as if not wholly pleased
with his reception, and JenA' bit his lip in vexation at his brother's
conduct.
"Well, how are you?" asked the tall gentleman, with gracious
condescension.
"Well enough," replied Richard nonchalantly; "and I see you are in
good trim, too."
The other seemed not exactly to relish this answer. "I am going to
leave for home to-morrow," said he; "what word shall I carry to your
mother from you?"
"Ah, you live in our neighbourhood, do you?" blandly inquired the
young hussar officer.
At this the polygonal gentleman nearly lost command of himself, while
JenA' tried to look as if his attention were elsewhere engaged.
"What message, then, do you wish to send?" resumed Richard's
interlocutor.
"I kiss her hand," answered the young man briefly.
"Ah, that commission I will execute with the greatest pleasure, in
person," exclaimed the other, with effusive friendliness.
"Oh, you needn't feel obliged to convey my respects in such a literal
sense as that," returned Richard. "I was speaking figuratively."
JenA' meanwhile had opened a conversation with the innocent-looking
young lady near him; but he kept one eye on his brother, and as soon
as he saw that the angular gentleman had departed, he took leave of
the young lady and returned to Richard.
"Well, now, you've put your foot in it this time!" he exclaimed.
"How so?" asked the other, with much composure.
"Didn't you know that man? It was RideghvAiry."
"Well, he might have been MeleghvAiry, for all I care."
"But he is an intimate friend of the family, and you have often seen
him at our house."
"As if I could remember all the faces I saw in our house when I was a
little boy, before I was sent away to the military academy. I didn't
keep an album of them,--the RideghvAirys and all the other vAirys."
JenA' tried to draw his brother aside where they would not be
overheard. "You must know," said he, "that RideghvAiry is a very
influential man."
"What is that to me?" asked the other, indifferently.
"He is the administrator of our county."
"Well, that is the county's affair, not mine."
"And, still more, he is likely to be our stepfather."
"That is our mother's affair." So saying, Richard turned his back on
his brother, who wished to detain him, but the other shook him off.
"Don't bother me with your RideghvAiry. We didn't come here to see him.
Go and court Alfonsine; there's no one with her now but the little
secretary with the squeaky voice."
The hussar officer danced for awhile and otherwise sought to amuse
himself. Cards were never played at the Plankenhorst parties. Young
ladies were there in plenty, and Richard enjoyed the reputation of a
veritable Don Juan; but the very ease of his conquests destroyed their
value in his eyes. A little maid-servant, however, who slapped him and
ran away because he pinched her cheek, was something new. No man had
ever defeated him in a duel, nor woman triumphed over him in a love
affair.
Entering the supper-room later with his brother, he saw the little
maid-servant presiding over the lemonade, and he pointed her out to
JenA'.
"You bungler!" exclaimed the latter, under his breath; "you only fall
from one blunder into another. She isn't a servant, but Miss Edith
Liedenwall, a relative of the family."
"What! She one of the family? And do they leave her alone on the
stairs in the evening, and let her serve lemonade to the guests?"
JenA' shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you see, she is the daughter of
some poor relations, and her aunt here has taken pity on her. Then,
too, she is little more than a child,--only about fifteen years
old,--and no one heeds her."
Richard looked at his brother coldly. "Was your Baroness Plankenhorst
never of that age herself?" he asked.
"But what would you have them do with an adopted waif like that?"
returned the other. "They can't rear her as if she were to be a great
lady."
"Then they ought not to have adopted her," objected Richard. "No
gentleman will pay court to her as long as she fills a menial's place,
and no poor man will venture to do so on account of her high birth."
"Quite true, but what can we do about it?" said JenA'.
Richard left his brother and advanced to the sideboard, where the girl
was serving lemonade. She presented an exceedingly attractive
appearance, her abundant dark hair coiled high on her head, her black
eyes full of life, and a ready smile on her coral lips. She seemed to
enjoy the part allotted to her, and met the guests' friendly advances
in an unconstrained but modest manner. Upon Richard's approach she did
not turn away from him, as he might have expected from their earlier
meeting, but met his look with a roguish smile in her bright eyes, and
said to him, as he came nearer:
"Aha! now you are afraid of me, aren't you?" And she had hit the
truth, for the young officer really felt abashed in her presence.
"Miss Edith," said he, "I beg you to pardon me; but why do they let
you wander about alone in the evening, where you are sure to meet so
many people?"
"Oh, they all know me," she answered, "and I had an errand to do. You
took me for a maid-servant, didn't you?"
"That is, indeed, my only excuse," he replied.
"Well, don't you think maid-servants have any rights that others are
bound to respect?" asked the girl.
The question was a hard one for Richard to answer; he could find
nothing to say.
"Now tell me what to give you," said Edith, "and then go back to the
dancing-hall, where they are waiting for you."
The young man refused all the offered refreshments, but asked the girl
to reach him the tip of her little finger in sign of forgiveness for
his offence.
"No, no!" she cried, "I won't shake hands with you. Your hand has been
wicked."
"If you call my hand wicked," he returned, "I will go to-morrow and
fight a duel and have it cut off. Do you really want my poor hand to
be chopped off for offending you? If you do, just as surely as I stand
here you shall see me day after to-morrow with only one hand."
"Oh, don't talk like that!" exclaimed Edith. "I won't be angry any
longer." So saying, she gave him her hand--not merely her little
finger, but the whole of her soft, warm little hand--and let him press
it in his own. No one was near them at the moment.
"And now, not to offend you even with a look," said he, "I promise on
my honour not to raise my eyes higher than your hand."
He kept his word, dropping his eyes as he released her hand and took
his leave with a low bow.
As the two young men returned home together after midnight, JenA'
noticed that his elder brother no longer teased him.