THE TOILET.
When Kaunitz entered his dressing-room, his features had resumed their
usual immobility. He walked in, without seeming to be aware of the
presence of his attendants, who, ranged on either side of the apartment,
awaited his commands.
He went up to his large Venetian mirror, and there surveyed himself at
full length. With anxious glance his keen eyes sought out every faint
line that told of the four-and-thirty years of his life. The picture
seemed deeply interesting, for he stood a long time before the glass.
Alt last the scrutiny was ended, and he turned slightly toward the
hair-dresser.
"Is the peruke ready?"
The hair-dresser fluttered off to a bandbox, that lay on the
toilet-table; and lifted out a fantastic-looking blond peruke,
constructed after "his excellency's own design." Kaunitz was not aware
of it, but this wig of his, with its droll mixture of flowing locks
before, and prim purse behind, was an exact counterpart of the life and
character of its inventor. He had had no intention of being symbolic in
his contrivance; it had been solely designed to conceal the little
tell-tale lines that were just about to indent the smooth surface of his
white forehead. He bent his proud head, while the hair-dresser placed
the wonderful wig, and then fell to studying its effect. Here he drew a
curl forward, there he gently removed another; placing each one in its
position over his eyebrows, so that no treacherous side-light should
reveal any thing he chose to hide. Finally the work was done.
"Hippolyte," said he, to the hair-dresser, who stood breathlessly by,
"this is the way in which my wig is to be dressed from this day
forward." [Footnote: From this time Kaunitz wore his wig in this
eccentric fashion. It was adopted by the exquisites of Vienna, and
called "the Kaunitz peruke."]
Hippolyte bowed low, and stepped back to give place to the valets who
came in with the count's costume. One bore a rich habit embroidered with
gold, and the other a pair of velvet-shorts, red stockings, and
diamond-buckled shoes.
"A simpler habit--Spanish, without embroidery, and white stockings."
White stockings! The valets were astounded at such high treason against
the court regulations of Vienna. But Kaunitz, with a slight and
contemptuous shrug, ordered them a second time to bring him white
stockings, and never to presume to bring any other.
"Now, go and await me in the puderkammer." [Footnote: Literally,
"powder-room."]
The valets backed out as if in the presence of royalty, and the
eccentric statesman was left with his chief valet. The toilet was
completed in solemn silence. Then, the count walked to the mirror to
take another look at his adored person. He gave a complaisant stroke to
his ruff of richest Alencon, smoothed the folds of his habit, carefully
arranged the lace frills that fell over his white hands, and then
turning to his valet he said, "Powder-mantle."
The valet unfolded a little package, and, with preter-careful hands,
dropped a long white mantle over the shoulders of the ministerial
coxcomb. Is light folds closed around him, and, with an Olympian nod, he
turned toward the door, while the valet flew to open it. As soon as the
count appeared, the other valets, who, with the hair-dresser, stood on
either side of the room, raised each one a long brush dipped in
hair-powder, and waved it to and fro. Clouds of white dust filled the
room; while through the mist, with grave and deliberate gait, walked
Kaunitz, every now and then halting, when the brushes all stopped; then
giving the word of command, they all fell vigorously to work again. Four
times he went through the farce, and then, grave as a ghost, walked back
to his dressing-room, followed by the hair-dresser.
At the door, the chief valet carefully removed the powder-mantle, and
for the third time Raunitz turned to the mirror. Then he carefully wiped
the powder from his eyes, and, with a smile of extreme satisfaction he
turned to the hair-dresser.
"Confess, Hippolyte, that nothing is more beautifying than powder. See
how exquisitely it lies on the front ringlets, and how airily it is
distributed over the entire peruke. Vraiment, I am proud of my
invention."
Hippolyte protested that it was worthy of the godlike intellect of his
excellency, and was destined to make an era in the annals of
hair-dressing.
"The annals of hair-dressing," replied his excellency, "are not to be
enriched with any account of my method of using powder. If ever I hear a
word of this discovery breathed outside of these rooms, I dismiss the
whole pack of you. Do you hear?"
Down went the obsequious heads, while Kaunitz continued, with his fine
cambric handkerchief, to remove the last specks of powder from his
eyelids. When he had sufficiently caressed and admired himself, he went
to the door. It opened, and two valets, who stood outside, presented
him, one with a jewelled snuff-box, the other with an embroidered
handkerchief. A large brown dog, that lay couchant in the hall, rose and
followed him, and the last act of the daily farce was over.
The count passed into his study, and going at once to the table, he
turned over the papers. "No message yet from the empress," said he,
chagrined. "What if Bartenstein's visit was NOT a politic, but a
triumphant one? What a--"
Here the door opened, and Baron Binder entered. "Your excellency," said
he, smiling, "I have taken upon myself to bear you a message which your
servants declined to bring. It is to announce a visitor. The hour for
reception has gone by, but he was so urgent, that I really could not
refuse his entreaties that you might be told of his presence. Pardon my
officiousness, but you know how soft-hearted I am. I never could resist
importunity."
"Who is your suppliant friend?"
"Count Bartenstein, my lord."
"Bartenstein! Bartenstein back already!" exclaimed Kaunitz, exultingly.
"And he begged--he begged for an interview, you say?"
"Begged! the word is faint to express his supplications."
"Then I am not mistaken!" cried Kaunitz, with a loud, triumphant voice:
"if Bartenstein begs, it is all over with him. Twice in my anteroom in
one day! That is equivalent to a message from the empress." And Kaunitz,
not caring to dissimulate with Binder, gave vent to his exceeding joy.
"And you will be magnanimous--you will see him, will you not?" asked
Binder, imploringly.
"What for?" asked the heartless statesman. "If he means business, the
council-chamber is the place for THAT; if he comes to visit ME--'I beg
to be excused.'"
"But when I beg you, for MY sake, count," persisted the good-natured
baron; "the sight of fallen greatness is such a painful one! How can any
one add to it a feather's weight of anguish?"
Kaunitz laid his hands upon the broad shoulders of his friend, and in
his eye there kindled something like a ray of affection.
"Grown-up child, your heart is as soft as if it had never been breathed
upon by the airs of this wicked world. Say no more about Bartenstein,
and I will reward your interest in his misfortune by making you his
successor. You shall be state referendarius yourself. Come along, you
chicken-hearted statesman, and let us play a game of billiards."
"First," said Binder, sadly, "I must deliver my painful message to Count
Bartenstein."
"Bah! the page can be sent to dismiss him."
"But there is no reason why we should keep the poor man waiting."
"Him, the poor man, say you? I remember the day when I waited in HIS
anteroom, and as I am an honest man, I shall pay him with interest, Come
along, my dear future state referendarius."