You may think yourself highly honored at my sitting down to write to
you at this hour; it is 2 A.M., and I am dead tired.
My dear Nesti, we are in a whirl. Fred and his friends are back from
Raigern, and have brought some officers with them. Old Countess
Aarheim and her four daughters are staying here; the lake is hard
frozen, and the snow a foot deep.
Our mornings are spent in visiting the stables and riding school;
after luncheon we skate or go sleighing; in the evening we play
games, or dance, or just simply lounge about. Cloclo, to my infinite
amusement, has set up a furious flirtation with the count; Mitzi is
still pining with love for Fred; and as for Kitzi and Pips, they
remain faithful to each other, and will carry the day yet. What
can parents do when their children won’t give in? It would be too
absurd for a captain to marry on his pay. He certainly would not be
my taste, but the two geese reply to every common-sense remonstrance
that they love each other. As if they could have any reason more
senseless for making each other miserable.
The count has quite joined the masculine community, and is first and
foremost among them; he has given up paying compliments, and, do you
know, my dear, I have made up my mind to accept him.
Fred, who of course scented at once the meaning of the count’s visit,
is behaving so sensibly that one cannot praise him enough; he really
is a dear old fellow. Do you remember at the last carnival his
wearing my colors, and yet, even then, he never breathed a word to
trouble me, nor has he now.
This morning I was trying the paces of a foal, and Fred, whip in
hand, came up.
“How do you like the count?” said he. “I think him a capital fellow,
and he has thirty thousand pounds a year.”
“And not a single racer,” said I; upon which, with a sly look, he
replied:
“That will soon be altered. If you should want a first-rate master of
the hounds, think of a friend at Rahn up in the mountains----”
I should think I would! He shall be one of the first I invite in my
new home, to make people sociable together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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