Three ladies belonging to that class of society which has nothing useful
to do, and therefore does not know how to employ its time sensibly, were
sitting on a bench in the shade of some pine trees at Ischl, and were
talking incidentally of their preference for all sorts of smells.
One of the ladies, Princess F----, a slim, handsome brunette, declared
there was nothing like the smell of Russian leather; she wore dull brown
Russian leather boots, a Russian leather dress suspender, to keep her
petticoats out of the dirt and dust, a Russian leather belt which
spanned her wasp-like waist, carried a Russian leather purse, and even
wore a brooch and bracelet of gilt Russian leather; people declared that
her bedroom was papered with Russian leather, and that her lover was
obliged to wear high Russian leather boots and tight breeches, but that
on the other hand, her husband was excused from wearing anything at all
in Russian leather.
Countess H----, a very stout lady, who had formerly been very beautiful
and of a very loving nature, but loving after the fashion of her time _à
la_ Parthenia and Griseldis, could not get over the vulgar taste of the
young Princess. All she cared for was the smell of hay, and she it was
who brought the scent _New Mown Hay_ into fashion. Her ideal was a
freshly mown field in the moonlight, and when she rolled slowly along,
she looked like a moving haystack, and exhaled an odor of hay all about
her.
The third lady's taste was even more peculiar than Countess H----'s, and
more vulgar than the Princess's, for the small, delicate, light-haired
Countess W---- lived only for--the smell of stables. Her friends could
absolutely not understand this; the Princess raised her beautiful, full
arm with its broad bracelet to her Grecian nose and inhaled the sweet
smell of the Russian leather, while the sentimental hay-rick exclaimed
over and over again:
"How dreadful! What dost thou say to it, chaste moon?"
The delicate little Countess seemed very much embarrassed at the effect
that her confession had had, and tried to justify her taste.
"Prince T---- told me that that smell had quite bewitched him once," she
said; "it was in a Jewish town in Gallicia, where he was quartered once
with his hussar regiment, and a number of poor, ragged circus riders,
with half-starved horses came from Russia and put up a circus with a few
poles and some rags of canvas, and the Prince went to see them, and
found a woman among them, who was neither young nor beautiful, but bold
and impudent; and the impudent woman wore a faded, bright red jacket,
trimmed with old, shabby, imitation ermine, and that jacket stank of the
stable, as the Prince expressed it, and she bewitched him with that
odor, so that every time that the shameless wretch lay in his arms, and
laughed impudently, and smelled abominably of the stable, he felt as if
he were magnetized.
"How disgusting!" both the other ladies said, and involuntarily held
their noses.
"What dost thou say to it, chaste moon?" the haystack said with a
sigh, and the little light-haired Countess was abashed and held her
tongue.
At the beginning of the winter season the three friends were together
again in the gay, imperial city on the blue Danube. One morning the
Princess accidentally met the enthusiast for the hay at the house of the
little light-haired Countess, and the two ladies were obliged to go
after her to her private riding-school, where she was taking her daily
lesson. As soon as she saw them, she came up, and beckoned her
riding-master to her to help her out of the saddle. He was a young man
of extremely good and athletic build, which was set off by his tight
breeches and his short velvet coat, and he ran up and took his lovely
burden into his arms with visible pleasure, to help her off the quiet,
perfectly broken horse.
When the ladies looked at the handsome, vigorous man, it was quite
enough to explain their little friend's predilection for the smell of a
stable, but when the latter saw their looks, she blushed up to the roots
of her hair, and her only way out of the difficulty was to order the
riding-master, in a very authoritative manner, to take the horse back to
the stable. He merely bowed, with an indescribable smile, and obeyed
her.
A few months afterwards, Viennese society was alarmed at the news that
Countess W---- had been divorced from her husband. The event was all the
more unexpected, as they had apparently always lived very happily
together, and nobody was able to mention any man on whom she had
bestowed even the most passing attention, beyond the requirements of
politeness.
Long afterwards, however, a strange report became current. A chattering
lady's maid declared that the handsome riding-master had once so far
forgotten himself as to strike the Countess with his riding-whip; a
groom had told the Count of the occurrence, and when he was going to
call the insolent fellow to account for it, the Countess covered him
with her own body, and thus gave occasion for the divorce.
Years had passed since then and the Countess H---- had grow stouter and
more sentimental. Ischl and hayricks were not enough for her any longer;
she spent the winter on lovely _Lago Maggoire_, where she walked among
laurel bushes and cypress trees, and was rowed about on the luke warm,
moonlight nights.
One evening she was returning home in the company of an English lady who
was also a great lover of nature, from _Isola Bella_, when they met a
beautiful private boat in which a very unusual couple were sitting; a
small, delicate, light-haired woman, wrapped in a white burnoose, and a
handsome, athletic man, in tight, white breeches, a short, black velvet
coat trimmed with sable, a red fez on his head, and a riding whip in his
hand.
Countess K---- involuntarily uttered a loud exclamation.
"What is the matter with you?" the English lady asked. "Do you know
those people?"
"Certainly! She is a Viennese lady," Countess H---- whispered; "Countess
W----."
"Oh! Indeed you are quite mistaken; it is a Count Savelli and his wife.
They are a handsome couple, don't you think so?"
When the boat came nearer, she saw that in spite of that, it was little
Countess W---- and that the handsome man was her former riding-master,
whom she had married, and for whom she had bought a title from the Pope;
and as the two boats passed each other, the short sable cloak, which was
thrown carelessly over his shoulders, exhaled, like the old cat's skin
jacket of that impudent female circus rider, a strong _stable perfume_.