The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-07-18
VERY FREIcnY.
A sKaTcH BY zoKA,

A SKETCH BY ZoKA,
The count was fifty, belonged to one
ofthe most illustrated families of France,
and possessed q large fortune. Being
disconnected with the government, he
occupied Irinself in various ways wrote
articles for the reviews, threw himself
into business, anil became enthusiastic
in agaiculturs and the fine arts.
The countess is forty-six, yes The
loveliest blonde of Paris. Never has
she locked handsomer. Age seenas to
purify her complexion. In ripening,
she has the rou1sdness of fine fruit.
When she enters "a parlor she appears
like a rising star. and women of twenty
are Jealous Of her.
Nothing % be, said of the household
OF the count and countess since their
marriage. Tt is even said they lived to-
gether happily for six years. In this
time they had q son, Roger, who is
Lieutenant;:and a daughter, Blanche,
whom they married off last year. In
later years they lived inseparate quar-
ters, yet remaining good friends, with
great self-control, often consulting to-
gether, and all right before the world.
Onenight the countess returned from
a ball about Q o'clock in the morning.
The waiting maid, after undressing her
says: "The count is, indisposed this
evening""
The countess, half asleep, turns her
head lazily. "Ah!" murmurs she,
yawning, and adds: Awake me to-
morrow at 10; Igo to the dressmaker. "
The next day at breakfast as the
count does not appear, she makes some
inquiries, and afterward decides to 60
to his room. She finds him in bed very
pale but very digniied. Three doctors
have already been there and talked in a
low tone; they left prescriptions, and
will return at night. The count is cared
for by two servants, who are grave and
quiet, sitting the noise of their heels on
the carpet. The great chamber gives
you the idea of a cold severity. No linen
is disturbed, no furniture deranged.
Thisis amalady proper and ceremonious.
"You suffer. then my friend?" asks
the countess, as she enters.
The count makes an effort to smile.
"Oh!a little fatigue" replied he "I
only require rest. / thank you for dis
turbing yourself.
Two days pass. The room remains
stately. Everything is in its place;
the drugs disappear without sporting
the furniture. The shaved faces of the
domestics are decent; they do not per-
NIT themselves to express sentiments Of
unrest. However, the count knows
that he is in danger. He has requested
the truth from the physicians, and he
leaves them to act without o complaint.
He remains most of the time with
closed eyes, or looks fxedl9 as though
he reflected his solitude.
In society the countess says her hus-
band is suffering. She Inns not changed
her manne of living, eats and sleeps
and walks at her usual hours. Every
morning, noon, and night she goes her
self to ask the count how he is.
swell, are you better, my friend ?"
"Yes, much better; thank you, my
dear Mathilde."
IF you desire it I will remain near
you."
mo, it is unnecessary. julius and
Francis are sufficient. And what good
would it do to fatigue yourself ?.
Between them is an understanding;
they have lived apart and will die apart.
The count has had the bitter enjoyment
of desiring to leave the world without
having round9his bed the ANNOYANCE of
ascomedy of grief. He cuts short as
much a. possible, for himself and the
countess, the private interview. His
last wish is to disappear properly, as q
man of,the world, without disturbing
any one.
One evening he car hardly breathe;
he knows he will not live through the
night. When the countess m to
make her accustomed visit, he saysto
her, forcing a SMILE.
aDo not go out; I do not feel well"
He would guard her from the tattle
of the world. She ~installs herself in
the ROOM. The doctors do not leave.
Two of the servants finish their duties
with impressive silence. They have
sent for their children, Roger and
Blanche who keep near the bed by the
side of their mother. The night passes
in this way. In the morning the last
sacrament is brought, and the count
takes it before them all, so as. to pat
ronize religion. The ceremonial issoFer
and now he is ready.
But he does not hasten J; he. see to
recover his strength, in order to avoid
q clamorous end. His breathing, in the
vast, severe apartment, gives the brok-
IN noise of q clock whichis out Of order.
He is a well-bred man who isdeparting.
And when he has embraced his wife and
children, he, falls back toward the wal
dead. Then one CT the doctors closes
the eyes, saying in a low voice, cit is
fnished.m
There Hre signs and tears in the ST
lence, as the countess, Roger, and
Blanche fall on their knees and weep
between their joined hands. Soon of.
terward the children take away then
mother, who at the door, wishing te
show her despair, sways to and fro.
From this moment the count belongs
to the pompous undertaken.
The physicians have gone away, bend
ing their backs with desolute faces.
They senda PRESTO watch. The two
domestics remain with the priest, seated
on chairs, stiff and dignified it is the ex-
| pected end of their service. One Of
them perceives a spoon, which has been
forgotten he rises and slips it quickly
into his pocket, that the fine order o
the room may not be disturbed.
Below, in the drawing room, til,
noise of hammers is heard; it is th,
upholsters, who are changing the room