He was allowed full liberty in going to Hungary, and
Wanda accompanied him. He had no suspicion that
even in his mistress’s arms he was under police
supervision, and from the moment when he made his appearance
in his native land officially, as the intermediary
between the crown and the people, she had a fresh
interest in binding a man of such importance, whom
everybody regarded as Hungary’s future Minister-President,
to herself.
He began to negotiate, and at first everything went
well, but soon the yielding temper of the government
gave rise continually to fresh demands, and before
long, what one side offered and the other side demanded,
was so far apart, that no immediate agreement could
be thought of. The Count’s position grew
more painful every day; he had pledged himself too
deeply to both sides, and in vain he sought for a way
out of the difficulty.
Then one day the Minister of Police unexpectedly received
a letter from Wanda, in which she told him that T——,
urged on by his fellow-countrymen, and branded as
a traitor by the emigrants, was on the point of heading
a fresh conspiracy.
Thereupon, the government energetically reminded that
thoroughly honest and noble man of his word of honor,
and T——, who saw that he was unable
to keep it, ended his life by a pistol bullet.
Frau von Chabert left Hungary immediately after the
sad catastrophe, and went to Turin, where new lovers,
new splendors and new laurels awaited her.
We may, perhaps, hear more of her.
It is a generally acknowledged truth, that the prerogatives
of the nobility are only maintained at the present
time through the weakness of the middle classes, and
many of these who have established themselves and
their families by their intellect, industry and struggles,
get into a state of bliss, which reminds those who
see it, of intoxication, as soon as they are permitted
to enter aristocratic circles, or can be seen in public
with barons and counts; and above all, when these treat
them in a friendly manner, no matter from what motive,
or when they see a prospect of a daughter of theirs
driving in a carriage with armorial bearings on the
panels, as a countess.
Many women and girls of the citizen class would not
hesitate for a moment to refuse an honorable, good-looking
man of their own class, in order to go to the altar
with the oldest, ugliest and stupidest dotard among
the aristocracy.
I shall never forget saying in a joke to a young,
well-educated girl of a wealthy, middle-class family,
who had the figure and bearing of a queen, shortly
before her marriage, not to forget an ermine cloak
in her trousseau.
“I know it would suit me capitally,” she
replied in all seriousness, “and I should certainly
have worn one, if I had married Baron R——,
which I was nearly doing, as you know, but it is not
suitable for the wife of a government official.”
