PAGE 3
Marrying A Count
by
“The largest estates he possesses are in Whiskerando, if you ever heard of that place. A French count! Preposterous!”
“I know it to be true,” said Arabella, emphatically.
“How do you know it, Miss Confidence?”
“I know it from the fact that I hinted to him, delicately, my knowledge of his rank abroad, and he did not deny it. His looks and his manner betrayed what he was attempting to conceal.”
“Arabella!” said Mr. Jones, with a good deal of sternness, “if you were silly enough to hint to this fellow what you say you did, and he was impostor enough not to deny it on the spot in the most unequivocal terms, then he adds the character of a designing villain to that of a senseless fop. In the name of homely American common sense, can you not see, as plain as daylight, that he is no nearer akin to a foreign nobleman than his barber or boot-black may be?”
Arabella was silenced because it was folly to contend in this matter with her father, who was a blunt, common-sense, clear-seeing man; but she was not in the least convinced Mr. De Courci was not a French count for all he might say, and, what was better, evidently saw attractions in her superior to those of which any of her fair compeers could boast.
“My dear Miss Jones,” said the count, when they next met, speaking in that delightful foreign accent, so pleasant to the ear of the young lady, and with the frankness peculiar to his nature, “I cannot withhold from you the honest expression of my sentiments. It would be unjust to myself, and unjust to you; for those sentiments too nearly involve my own peace, and, it may be, yours.”
The count hesitated, and looked interesting. Arabella blushed and trembled. The words, “You will speak to my father,” were on the young lady’s tongue. But she checked herself, and remained silent. It would not do to make that reference of the subject.
Then came a gentle pressure of hair upon her cheek, and a gentle pressure from the gloved hand in which her own was resting.
“My dear young lady, am I understood?” Arabella answered, delicately, by returning the gentle pressure of her hand, and leaning perceptibly nearer the Count De Courci.
“I am the happiest of men!” said the count, enthusiastically.
“And I the happiest of women,” responded Arabella, not audibly, but in spirit.
“Your father?” said De Courci. “Shall I see him?”
“It will not be well yet,” replied the maiden, evincing a good deal of confusion. “My father is”–
“Is what?” asked the nobleman, slightly elevating his person.
“Is a man of some peculiar notions. Is, in fact, too rigidly American. He does not like”–
Arabella hesitated.
“Doesn’t like foreigners. Ah! I comprehend,” and the count shrugged his shoulders and looked dignified; that is, as dignified as a man whose face is covered with hair can look.
“I am sorry to say that he has unfounded prejudices against every thing not vulgarly American.”
“He will not consent, then?”
“I fear not, Mr. De Courci.”
“Hum-m. Ah!” and the count thought for some moments. “Will not consent. What then? Arabella!” and he warmed in his manner–“Arabella, shall an unfounded prejudice interpose with its icy barriers? Shall hearts that are ready to melt into one, be kept apart by the mere word of a man? Forbid it, love! But suppose I go to him?”
“It will be useless! He is as unbending as iron.”
Such being the case, the count proposed an elopement, to which Arabella agreed, after the expression of as much reluctance as seemed to be called for. A few weeks subsequently, Mr. Jones received a letter from some person unknown, advising him of the fact that if at a certain hour on that evening he would go to a certain place, he would intercept Mr. De Courci in the act of running away with his daughter. This intelligence half maddened the father. He hurried home, intending to confront Arabella with the letter he had received, and then lock her up in her room. But she had gone out an hour before. Pacing the floor in a state of strong excitement, he awaited her return until the shadows of evening began to fall. Darkness closed over all things, but still she was away, and it soon became evident that she did not mean to come back.