The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1884-07-10
VERY FRENCaY.
A SKETCH BY zoKA.

of the most illustrated families Of France,
and possessed large fortune. Being.
discontinued with the government, he
occupied himself in various ways; wrote
articles for the reviews, threw himself
into business, and became enthusiastic
in agriculture and the fine arts.
The countess is forty-six, yet the
loveliest blonde of Paris. Never has
she looked handsomer. Age seems to
purify her complexion. In ripening,
she has the roundness of fine fruit.
When she enters parlor she appears
like rising star, and women of twenty
are jealous of her.
Nothing can be said of the household
of the count and countess since their
marriage It is even said they lived to-
gether happily for six years. In this
time they had son, Roger, who is
Lieutenant; and daughter, Blanche,
whom they married off last year. In
later years they lived in separate quar-.
ters, yet remaining good friends, with
great sMf-control, often consulting to-
gethor, and all right before the world.
One night the countess returned from
ball about 2 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!" 1nurmurs 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 go
to his room. She finds him in bed very
| pale but very dignifed. 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 cold severity. No linen
is disturbed, no furniture deranged.
This is malady proper and ceremonious.
'FYou suffer, then my friend?" asks
the countess, as she enters.
The count makes an effort to smile.
"Oh!a little fatigue" replied he II
only require rest. I thank you for dis
turbing yourself"
Two days pass. The room remains
stately. Everything is in it's 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 complaint.
He remains most of the time with
closed eyes, OF looks fxedly as though
he reflected his solitude.
In society the countess says her hus-
band is suffering. She has not changed
her manner 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.
''Well, are you better, my friend?"
eyes, much better; thank you, my
dear Mathilde."
eff you desire it I will remain near
you"
''No, 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 round his bed the annoyance OF
a comedy of grief. He cuts short as
much as 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 can hardly breathe
he knows he will not live through the
night. When the countess comes tc
make her accustomed visit, he says to
her, forcing smile:
"Do not go out; do not feel we'll"
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 childr*:' 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 is over
and now he is ready.
+, But he. does not hasten; he seems to
recover his strength, in order to avoid
clamorous end. His breathing, in the
vast, severe apartment, gives the brok.
en- noise of clock which is out of order
He is a we'll bred man who is departing
And when he has embraced his wife and
children, he falls back toward the wall
dead. Then one CT the doctors closes
the eyes, saying in low voice, 1T is
Finished"
There are signs and tears in the 81
lence, as the countess, Roger, and
Blanche fall on their knees and weep
between their joined hands. Soon af-
terward the children take away their
mother, who at the door, wishing to
show her despair, SWAPS to and fro.
From this mome9tthe count belongs
to the pompous undertaken.
The physicians have gone away, bend
ing their backs with desolute faces.
They sends priest to watch. The two
domestics remain with the priest, seated
on chairs, stiff and digniied; it is the ex-
pected end of their service. One OF
them perceives spoon, which has been
! forgotten; he rises and slips it quickly
into his pocket, that the fine order OF
the room may not be disturbed. II 7 :.
Below, in the drawing room, the
noise of hammers is heard it. is. the
upholsters, who are changing *he-room
.:1.to a glowing chapel. The embalme1
is alone with the assistants; the. doors
areshut.5 When the count is brought
down the next day, he is finely dressed
and has youthful freshness. r., !.
At 9 o'clock, the morning of tho fun
eral, the house is filed with the muir
muir of voices. The son and son-in-law
of the deceased receive the crowd on the
ground floor. They bow and keep the
quiet politeness Of afflicted people All
the notabilities are there the nobility,
the army, the magistracy-even Sena-
tors and Professors. -t~zsss
At 10 the funeral procession starts
for the church. The hearse is of the
highest class-plumes and feathers,
draped with hangings of silver fringe.
The tassels of the pail are held up by
Marshal of France, asDuke, an old
friend of the deceased, an ex-M Minister Of
State and an cademician. The counts
son, Roger, and his son-in-law led the
mourners. Afterward comes the pro.
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