The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1870-06-10
them carefully in a drawer of bis writ

IuSAH CttISluIiy III q uEsbWST VI uJS VIII
? ing-table.
HRest there" said he m ournfulIy
I will call you the Sophie Waltz.
In you bury my hopes, my sorrows
and-my love. You are not for pro
fame ears. Why should the wOrlC
know that have loved, that 1 have
suffered ?"
Months had passed, during which
Strauss sought, by close application, to
forget his grief. He seemed, in a great
measure, to have succeeded; for So
phie's heartlessneSs, and the contempt
she had shown for him, were sufficient
proofs to the artist that she was un-
worthy of his love. The image of the
loved one had become fainter and even
fainter in his memory, when, one
morning, young, elegantly-dressed
man called at his lodgings, and pTesen-
ted himself as Count M.
! Strauss received the visitor with his
accustomed urbaRity, and begged to
| know in what he could serve him.
am about to be married." began
| the count, in a nasal tone, glancing
around the room with pair of shy,
eXpressiOnless eyes; and, as / am de-
keeping with my rank, and as brilliant
as possible, 1 come to request that you,
with your orchestra, supply the music,
| if you WILL"
Certainly, Count" replied Strauss !;
l am at your service"
"Thank you, thank you," replied the
count. I" As for your terms, my stew~
ard has instructions to accept them,
whatever they may be. I will send
him to you toAlOTrOw." The object
of his visit bel accomplished, he
arose and steppe Oward the door.
Strauss, who could not help Observ-
ing the strange, almost timid manner
of his visitOr-fOr he seemed studioUsly
to avoid his gaze-replied with only a
slight bow.
As he was opening the door, the
count turned around, and stammered /:
ApTOl)OS, you may be curious to learn
the &ame of md bride; % is Countess
Sophie c.. Dod morning."
For a moment, Strauss was stupefied;
but, quickly recovering command of
himself, his first thought was to hasten
after the count and take back his prom
Use. On second thought, however, he
resolved to pursue a wiser course.
Shameful ~ he cried, in a bitter
tone. "But the dart intended for my
bosom, my beauteOUs countess, shall
pierce your own. You could have Civ
en- me no better proof of your utter un-
wOrthiness than in preterring to me
this titled idiot. 1 will play at your
wedding-will play the waltz l COM
posed in my agony. You shall see
that L no longer suffer, that my hand
dOeSROt tremble in welding the baton
or dS-Swing the bow"
The marriage ceremony had been
performed. Countess Sophie was now
the wife of Cd4At NJ. The palatial
residence of the BRIDES mother was
lighted by hundreds of wax candles,
and its spacious apartments were filled
by the cite of Vienna.
1t was time for the dancing to begin.
The rank and file of the orchestra were
in their places, and Strauss, faultleSsly
attired, stepped to the front, violin and
bow in hand. He was pale&but calm;
he had every muscle une control.
lbs bearing was proud al eful, as
heSgaYe the signal to be tirring
in luction, followed usual
l1Oss5lGise.
The pOlOndise waste be ed by
a waltZ-a new compost 1.-The
b" king of dancing musi
the beautiful bride.
tiptOe of curiosity to d
which, every one prt
extraordinary
worthy ae occasion.
TheNanity of Sophie, now COuIl
NJ was deeply wounded at Sc
despised lover discharge his
conductor with such appar
IN. She was irritated, and@c
anger mantled her cheeks iTS
herself. When she, leaning on
fmNOf her husband-whO, i'll his
9signific9nce, was completely over
h1siTl nf hi
side - cam near the orchestra and
glanced at 'auss, she thought she OBJ
served ON 4 lips an ironical smile as
he fixed his on the count. She
felt ill at eases oppressed in the hot,
perfumCd airfOffthe crowded salons,
and was about to withdraw, when
Strauss took up his bow and violin.
He gave the signal, and the intro
ductiOn to the waltz began, with soft,
tones, whose serious,
mOurnful rythm seemed to prelude a
without distinctly mark
ing it. The last dominant accord of
the introduction sounded. Strauss
raised his violin to his shoulder, and, as
soon as his bow touched the strings, an
electric stream seemed to thrill the lis
teners; and now the dancers, couple af-
ter couple, began to whirl round and
round the hall, urged on by the inspir-
ing melody.
More and more joined in the dance
among them, the bride and groom.
The now joyous now mOurnful strains
of the waltz appeared to exercise q
magic influence OH the dancers. A
bacChanal humOr seemed to have pos
sessed the entire assembly. Strauss
alone stood tranquil and serene, his
eyes fixed OH space, pouring his whole
soul into the tomb of his hopes and
love.
Suddenly, a piercing cry resounded
through the haII-thG music ceased
violin and bow sank from the hands of
the conductor, who, with one bound,
descended the few steps that led to the
hall.
There was confusion and cOnsterna-
ton; everybody crowded around one
point. Strauss thrust the crowd aside
and pressed forward to the spot from
which had come the cry of n familiar
voice. When he reached it, he found
the proud and beautiful countess death
Iy pale, her eyes half closed, III the arms
of her lneeling husband. With q wall
of anguish, the mother of the bride hur-
ried to the scene. They lOOsened the
countess clothes and hastened to pro-
cure restOratives. In the meantime a
physician who was present felt her
pulse, listened for the pulsatiOns of the
heart and examined her eyes then,
rising slowly, he said i'll a sad tone:
"The countess is dead. She has
bUTst'a blOOd-vesseI. The cause is due,
doubtless, to the tightness of her cloth
ing, the heat of the room, and the eX-
citement of the dance"
In dismay the guests quickly left the
mansion that had been so suddenly
turned from house of joy TO a house
of mourning. Strauss took one last
farewell look at the beautiful but now
paIIid form of her he had once 50 pas