A mine somewhere in Poland or Bohemia came to grief about this time by
some accidental visitation, and five hundred families were left
destitute through the disaster. Of course the opportunity was
immediately seized upon for charitable dissipations, for qualifying for
Orders of Merit by liberal donations, and for attracting the eyes of
Europe by the most extravagant display of philanthropy. After much
deliberation Countess Ilsenbergh had arrived at the conviction that, as
both the ambassadors' families were hindered by mourning from giving
any public entertainment, the duty of taking the lead devolved upon
her. The rooms in her Palazzo were made on purpose for grand
festivities, and after endless discussion it was decided that the
entertainment should be dramatic. An Operetta, a _Proverbe_ by Musset,
and a series of _Tableaux Vivants_ were finally put in rehearsal and a
collection was to be made after the performance.
Madame de Gandry threw herself into the undertaking with the most
commendable ardor. She was on intimate terms with the leading spirits
at the Villa Medici--the French Academy of Arts at Rome--and she
interested herself in the painting of the scenes, and in the artistic
designing of the dresses in which she proved invaluable. Up to a
certain point all went smoothly. The operetta--an unpublished effort of
course--by a Russian amateur of rank who was very proud of not even
knowing his notes, was soon cast. It needed only three performers and
led up to the introduction of an elaborate masquerade and of certain
suggestive French songs. Mrs. Ferguson, who never let slip an
opportunity of powdering her hair and sticking on patches, was to sing
the soprano part; Crespigny took that of a husband or a guardian in a
nightcap or flowered dressing-gown, and a young French painter, M.
Barillat, who was at all times equally ready to sketch or to wear a
becoming costume, was to fill that of the lover. The cast of the little
French play was equally satisfactory; but when the arrangement of the
tableaux came to be considered difficulties arose. In the first place
all the ladies were eager to display their charms under the becoming
light of a tableau vivant; and the number of volunteers was quite
bewildering to the committee of management that met every day at the
Ilsenberghs' house. Then squabbles and dissatisfaction arose; the
ladies did not approve of the choice of subjects, they thought their
dresses unbecoming, their positions disadvantageous; each one to whom a
place at the side was assigned was deeply aggrieved; an unappreciated
beauty who prided herself on her profile from the left would not for
worlds be seen from the right, etc., etc. And above all--an insuperable
difficulty--almost all the available men of the set manifested the
greatest objection to 'making themselves ridiculous' and positively
rejected the most flattering blandishments of the ladies' committee.
Sempaly, who had been asked to appear as a Roman emperor, would not
hear of putting on flesh-colored tights and a wreath of vine; and Truyn
had shrugged his shoulders at the proposal that he should don a wig
with long curls.
Siegburg--little Siegburg, as he was always called, though he was
nearly six feet high--after defending himself with considerable humor,
good-naturedly agreed to stand as _Pierrot_, in a Watteau scene in
which the Vulpini children were to appear; and Sterzl, being personally
requested by his ambassador, submitted, though with an ill grace, to be
the executioner in Delaroche's picture of Lady Jane Grey. This tableau
was to be the crowning glory of the performance; Barillat had taken
infinitely more pains with it than with any other; the part of Lady
Jane was to be filled by a fair English girl, Lady Henrietta Stair; and
then, within a few days of the performance, Lady Henrietta fell ill of
the measles.
The committee were in despair when this news reached them, and all who
were concerned in the performance were summoned to meet at the Palazzo
that evening to talk the matter over. Hardly any one was absent; only
Sterzl, who detested the whole charity scramble, as he called it, sent
his excuses. Every lady present expected to find herself called upon to
stand--or rather to kneel--as Lady Jane Grey; but Mrs. Ferguson was the
first to give utterance to the thought, and to offer herself heroically
as Lady Henrietta's substitute. To the astonishment of all the company
Sempaly, whose interest in the work of benevolence had hitherto
displayed itself only in satirical remarks, and suggestions as to the
representation of Makart's 'entrance of Charles V.' or of Siemiradzky's
'living torches,' took an eager part in the discussion.
"Your self-sacrifice, Mrs. Ferguson," said he, "is more admirable every
day."
"Dear me," replied the lady innocently, "where is the self-sacrifice in
having an old gown cut up into a historical costume?"
"That, indeed, would be no sacrifice," said Sempaly coolly. "But it
must be a sacrifice for a lady to appear in a part that suits her so
remarkably ill."
Mrs. Ferguson smiled rather like some pretty little wild beast showing
its teeth.
"Ah!" she said, "I suppose you think I have none of that pathetic grace
that M. Barillat is so fond of talking about."
"No more than of saving grace," said Sempaly solemnly. Then, while the
women were disputing over the matter, he found an opportunity of
whispering a few words to Barillat; Barillat looked up delighted. At
this moment they were joined by Countess Ilsenbergh.
"I have another suggestion to offer Madame la Comtesse; I have thought
of some one...."
"Some newly-imported American," laughed Madame de Gandry, "or a
painter's model with studied grace and yellow hair?"
"You may rest assured that I should not for an instant think of
proposing to employ a model," Barillat emphatically declared; "no, the
lady in question is a very charming person: Fraeulein Sterzl. I saw her
the day before yesterday at Lady Julia Ellis's; she is an Austrian--you
must know her surely?"
"I have not that pleasure," said the countess drily.
"You do not think she will do?" murmured the artist abashed. The
countess cleared her throat.
"Bless me!" cried Madame de Gandry furious at the pride of her Austrian
friend, "you take the matter really too much in earnest. Why on earth
should not the girl act with us? On these occasions, in Vienna, as I
have been informed, even actors are invited to help."
"That is quite different," said the countess.
Madame de Gandry shrugged her shoulders and turned away and the
countess beckoned to her cousin Sempaly. "I am heartily sick of the
whole business," she exclaimed. "At home I have got this sort of thing
up a score of times, and everything has gone well ... while here...."
"Yes, there is more method among us," replied Sempaly sympathetically.
"The people here are so unmanageable; every one wants to play the best
parts," said the countess.
"That is the result of the republican element," observed Sempaly.
"And now there is all this difficulty about the Lady Jane Grey
tableau," sighed the countess. "Why need that English girl take the
measles now, just when she is wanted."
"The English are always so inconsiderate," said Sempaly gravely.
"Do you happen to have met this little Sterzl girl?"
"Yes."
"What does she look like?"
"Well, she looks like a very pretty girl...."
"And besides that?"
"Besides that she looks very much like our own girls; it is really a
most extraordinary freak of nature! She seems to be very presentable on
further acquaintance; Princess Vulpini is quite in love with her."
"Indeed!--Well, Barillat is possessed with the idea of having her to
play the part of Lady Jane Grey and in Heaven's name let him have his
own way!" cried the countess. "If Marie Vulpini will bring her here I
will make the best of it."
"What, you mean to say that you will let her figure in your tableau and
not invite her mother?" laughed Sempaly.
"Invite her!--to the performance of course. I invite Tom, Dick, and
Harry, and all the English parsons and all the foreign artists."
"And all their families. Fritzi, you are an admirable woman!" retorted
Sempaly ironically.
"But the rehearsals are so perfectly intimate," she murmured. Time
pressed however. "Well, have it so for all I care;" said the countess
resignedly and next morning she paid a polite call on the Baroness
Sterzl to request Zinka's assistance; and as she had as much tact as
pride she had soon reconciled not only Zinka, but her sensitive
thin-skinned brother, to the fact that the young girl had only been
asked at the last moment and under the pressure of necessity to take
part in the performance. Cecil did not altogether like the idea of
displaying his pretty sister in a tableau and only consented because he
did not like to deprive Zinka of the pleasure which she looked forward
to with great delight. He adored the child and could refuse her
nothing.
The evening of the festival arrived; the performances took place in a
vast room almost lined with mirrors and lighted by wonderful Venetian
chandeliers that hung from the decorated ceiling where frescoes were
framed in tasteless gilt scroll work. In spite of its size the room was
crowded; the most illustrious of the company sat in solitary dignity in
the front row, and behind them was packed a fashionable but somewhat
mixed crowd. Manly forms of consummate elegance were squeezed against
the walls, and the assembly sparkled like a sea of sheeny silks and
glittering jewels. Princess Vulpini, who was helping the countess to do
the honors, hovered on the margin, graceful and kindly, but a little
pale and tired, and the countess herself reigned supreme in that regal
dignity which she could so becomingly assume on fitting occasions.
There were very few women who could wear a diamond coronet with such
good grace as Fritzi Ilsenbergh--even her intractable cousin Sempaly
did her that much justice.
The great success of the evening was not the little French play, in
which Madame de Gandry and the all-accomplished Barillat made and
parried their hits after the accepted methods of the _Theatre
Francais_; it was not the operetta, in which Mrs. Ferguson looked
bewitchingly pretty and sang '_le Sentier convert_' to admiration; it
was not even the children's tableau, in which the little Vulpinis
looked like a bunch of freshly-gathered roses; the great success of the
evening was the tableau of Lady Jane Grey. Sterzl's face in this scene
was a perfect tragedy, all the misery of an executioner who adores his
victim was legible there. And Zinka!--gazing up to heaven with ecstatic
pathos, her whole attitude expressive of sacred resignation and
childlike awe, she was the very embodiment of the hapless and innocent
being before whom the executioner lowers his gaze. A string quartet
played the _allegretto_ from Beethoven's seventh symphony and the
melancholy music heightened the effect of the poetical tableau,
thrilling the audience like a lullaby sung by angels to soothe the
struggling, suffering human soul.
The whole artistic corps who had been invited from the Villa Medici,
with the director at their head, unanimously decided that this
performance far excelled all that had gone before, and Countess
Ilsenbergh forgot in its success all the annoyance it had occasioned
her. After the collection, which produced a magnificent sum, most of
the company dispersed. Ilsenbergh, with his most feudal smile,
expressed his thanks to all the performers in turn and presented
elegant bouquets to the ladies. The entertainment lost its formal
character and became a social gathering.
Zinka was sitting in a side room, surrounded by a host of young Romans
and Frenchmen. As she was one of those rare natures who derive not the
smallest satisfaction from the homage of men for whom they have no
regard, she listened to their enthusiastic compliments with absolute
indifference.
She had asked for an ice and Norina had offered it to her on his knees,
remaining in that position to pour out a string of high-flown
compliments. Zinka, unaccustomed to this Southern effusiveness, was
remonstrating with some annoyance but without the slightest effect,
when Sempaly came in and exclaimed in the abrupt tone he commonly used
to younger men: "Get up, Norina, do you not see that your devotion is
not appreciated."
The prince rose with a scowl, Sempaly drew a seat to Zinka's side and
in five minutes had, as usual, entirely monopolized her.
"My cousin the countess owes everything to you," he said in his most
musical tones; "you saved the whole thing. I detest all amateur
performances, but that tableau of Lady Jane Grey was really beautiful."
"I liked the French play very much. Madame de Gandry's acting was full
of spirit."
"Bah! I have had more than enough of such spirit."
"Indeed!" laughed she, "it seems to me that you are suffering from
general weariness of life. You are blase."
"What do you understand by being blase?" he asked.
"Why, that exhaustion of heart and soul which comes of the fatigue
produced by a life of perpetual enjoyment; it is I believe an essential
element in the character of a man of fashion."
"Something between a malady and an affectation," remarked Sempaly.
"Just so; in short, to be blase is the heartsickness of a fop."
Sempaly glanced at her keenly. "Your definition is admirable," he said,
"I will make a note of it; but the cap does not fit me. I am not blase,
I am not indifferent to anything. Shams, hypocrisy, and
meretriciousness irritate me, but when I meet with anything really good
or lovely or genuine I can recognize it and admire it--more perhaps
than most men."
Meanwhile the winner of the musical prize from the Villa Medici had sat
down to the piano and plunged straightway out of a maundering
improvisation into a waltz by Strauss. The countess had no objection if
they liked to dance, and several couples were soon spinning under the
flaring candles.
Sempaly rose: "May I have the honor?" he said to Zinka, and they went
together into the dancing-room.
Zinka had the pretty peculiarity of turning pale rather than red as she
danced; her movements were not sprightly, but gliding and dreamy; in
fact she waltzed with uncommon grace. Sempaly had long since lost the
subaltern's delight in a dance; he only asked ladies who had some
special interest or charm for him, and every one knew it.
"Hm!" said Siegburg, shaking his head as he went up to General von
Klinger who was watching the graceful couple from a recess, "my little
game has come to nothing it seems to me."
"Have you retired then?" asked the general.
"By no means--quite the contrary; but my chances are small enough at
present I fancy; what do you say?" He looked straight into the old
man's eyes; he understood and said nothing.
"She dances beautifully, I never saw a girl dance better. How well she
holds her head," he murmured. Suddenly a flash of amusement lighted up
his eyes. "Look at Fritzi's face!" he exclaimed: "What a horrified
expression! a perfect Niobe."