Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1864-03-31
THE COUNT AND THE COUSIN,

ley to Horace Granville, as they proceeded
down the steps of the City Hotel.
eThat was Adelaide Walsingham, YOU
cousin and mine, Charles" said Horace
really you must have left your memory among
the beauties of Paris, if you cannot recog
nize your nearest of kin"
"You forgot Horace, that when first saw
Adelaide she was a little lively hoyden, scarce
ten years old; the lapse of seven years
makes a lady, whatever it may.do with "a gen
tleman."
Nay if you begin to discuss times changes
Charles, l must confess you cannot congrat
late yourself upon having escaped touch Of
his finger Who, in that bronzed complex
ion and hirsute visage, could discover any
traces of the smooth checked boy whom
last saw on the deck of the French packet
ship some seven years ago. But tell me
why did you not write that you were coming
home 2"
because | did not know my own mind
Horace; | really was not quite certain about
until | had been a week at sea. The odd pro
nunciation of my German valet having caus
cd my name to be placed on the list Of pas
scngers as Mr.. Stanly, it occurred to me that
the mistake would enable me to return encog
nito, and | thought | would humor the joke
if but to see how many of my old friends
WOulu feCOSlllIC me. dfFlFtu ldGc last ever
ing, and should now be a perfect stranger in
my native city, had L not accidentally met
you this morning; and even you, Horace, at
first did not recognize me-
Know you, Charles who the deuce could
even see you behind that immense growth OF
brushwood upon your lip and cheek? Do you
really mean to wear those enormous whiskers
and moustaches :"
Certainly not longer than it suits my pres
ent purpose, Horace. When | was in Ger
many learned to wear moustaches for the
same reason that | learned to smoke the
observation-disclosures everybody else did it.
In Paris | reduced them little, but did not
entirely Danish them, because there also |
found them in fashion. A lively little French
lady, passenger in our ship, wagered pair
of gloves that would not wear them week
in America | accepted the bet, and for
one week you will see me "bearded like the
bard"
NAY, if you like them," said Horace
laughing, g you need not'seek an excuse for
wearing them; they are quite the fashion,
and ladies now estimate man, not as they
once did, by his altitude, but by the length of
his whiskers.n
g. have no desire to win the ladies' favor
by wearing an unshaven face" answered
Charles " bnt pray Horace tell me some
thing more about our pretty cousin?"
g She is as lovely in character, Charles, as
she is in person, but she has one great fault ;
like most of our fashionable bellies, she has a
mania for everything foreign. Her manners,
her dress, her servants, all came from abroad,
and she has declared to me repeatedly her
resolution never to marry an American"
What is it that my fair countrywomen SO
much admire in their foreign lovers " asked
Charles
''Oh, they say there is a polish and ele-
gance of manners, which Americans never
possess. Two of Adelade's most intimate
friends have recently married scions of some
antedeluvian German family, and our lovely
cousin is ambitious of forming an equally
splendid alliance"
d" If she were to marry western farmer,
said Charles, with smile, "she would reign
over Il principally quite as large and perhaps
more tlourishing. than usually belongs to
these emigrant MOBILES"
Adelaide is noble-hearted girl" replied
Horace, land | wish she could be cured OF
her folly" ~ ~
q" If she is really a sensible girl, Horace,
and that is her only fault, think she might
be cured"
e., Horace shook his head.
Come and dine with me, Horace; be
careful to tell no one of my arrival, and we'll
discuss the matter over Il bottle of fine old
Madeira, if you are not too fashionable to
The windows of Mr.. Walsingham's house
poured flood of light through the crimson
silk curtains upon the wet and dreary street.
while the music heard at intervals told to the
gaping crowd collected about the door, that
the rich were making merry. The rooms
were brilliant with an array of youth anC
beauty, but fairest among them all stood the
mistress of the festival. Attired in a robe
of white Grape, with no other ornament thar
pearl bandeau confirming her dark .resses
she looked the personihcation of Joy.
cousin Horace, she exclaimed, as she saw
her tavorite cousin enter the room, you have
not been here these three days :" and then, il
lower tone, she added, "who was that splen
did Don Whiskerando with whom | saw yor
walking yesterday ?"
Horace laid his finger on his lip, as tai
figure emerged from the crowd at the en-
trance Of the room" Miss Walsingham, al
low me to present to you the most noble
Count Pteitfenhammer.n
The blood mounted into Adelaide's cheek
as the Count bowed low over the hand which
he fastened to secure for the next uuadrille
There was a mlschievous sparkle in Horace's
eye, and deep and earnest devotedness in
the strangers manner, which made her feel q
little uncomfortable, though she knew not
why. A single glance suffced to show heI
that the Count was attired in magnificent
court suit, with diamond buckles at the knee
and diamond band looping up the elegant
chapedu bras which encountered his arm. AT
ter some minutes she ventured to look more
courageously at him. He was tall and ex
ceedingly well shaped his eyes were very
bright, but the chief attraction was peauti
full mouth, garnished with the most splendid
moustache that ever graced an American bal
room. Adelaide was delighted. He danced
elegantly; not with the stiff, awkward man
ner of an American, who always seems hal
ashamed of the undignifed part he is playing
but with buoyancy of step and grace of mo
ton perfectly unrivalled. Adelaide was en-
chanted. He spoke English very well;
slight German accent only BETRAYED his for
eign birth, and Adelaide did not like him tn,
less tor that. 1t is true she felt little ouee
when she felt herself whirling through tn,
waltz in the arms of an entire stranger, anS
her brow flushed with something very lik,
anger when she felt his bearded lip upon he
hand, as he placed her in seat but this wa
only the freedom of foreign manners.
The evening passed away like dream, an,
Adelaide retired to her room with burnin.
cheek, and a frame exhausted by what
deemed pleasure. She was too much excite
for sleep, and when she appeared at her faith
er's breakfast table "a duty which she neve
neglected. it was with such pale cheek an,
heavy eye that he was seriously alarmed.
'These late hours will kill you, my child,
said he, kissing her forehead; 81 shall re
turn at noon and if find you still so langui,
TIl send for DR.. B."
CO sav;no no stenned into his csrriaoe apf