One of these latter, a young man of distinguished appearance, had taken a foremost seat near the iron railing, against which he had negligently propped his feet in the same attitude as that assumed by his neighbour, a cavalry officer, while both rocked gently to and fro in their tilted chairs. The young civilian held in his hand a newspaper, which however he did not read, his attention being entirely devoted to the promenade and the many handsome equipages with their fair occupants that were perpetually rolling past.
In one of these the brilliant beauty of a young lady especially excited his admiration. She was sitting beside an aged officer with whom she was conversing gayly as she gracefully acknowledged the respectful salutations of many of the officers, and greeted with a special smile the young dragoon before mentioned, who relinquished his negligent attitude while her carriage was passing, and stood up to salute her.
"An exquisitely lovely girl!" the civilian said to his neighbour. "I envy you the smile she gave you, Count Waldheim. One might almost barter his soul for such a glance and smile. Tell me who she is, and why I have never been presented to her."
"I can further your wishes in the matter of an introduction, Count," Waldheim replied. "I am quite intimate at Frau von Heydeck's, and, although they are rather exclusive, I think I can obtain permission to introduce a friend."
"Frau von Heydeck? Married? I am bitterly disappointed," said Count Tiefstetten.
"You will have to relinquish all thoughts of conquest there," said Waldheim, laughing, "for Frau von Heydeck is not only a wife, but the happiest woman in the world, still desperately in love with her husband, who deserves it. He is a charming fellow, a nobleman in the truest sense of the word, and with a brilliant reputation as an artist besides."
"An artist?" Count Tiefstetten asked, in amazement. "And his wife drives in a splendid equipage with those magnificent horses?"
"It is easy to see that you have been abroad for some years and are just returned among us, or you would hardly ask such a question. Leo von Heydeck's picture, at our art exhibition last spring, a full-length of his wife, established his reputation as an artist, and he is besides one of the wealthiest men in our city. His wife, who was a Fräulein Schommer, was a great heiress. But he is an eccentric fellow in spite of his wealth. His habits are as simple as if he were obliged to work with his brush for his living, and he persists in his eccentricities, although his father the old colonel, whom you saw just now seated beside Frau von Heydeck, is highly indignant with him for doing so. Leo von Heydeck is not an amateur artist; art is his profession. He sells his pictures, which command very high prices, and supports himself entirely upon the proceeds of his profession, never making any use of his wife's income. You never even see him in her brilliant equipage. If you like, and do not mind paying a high price, you can order your portrait of him."
"Very odd! And what does his wife say to these whims?"
"Oh, she adores him! I verily believe she would like to throw her wealth to the winds and struggle along with him as the wife of a poor artist. It is owing entirely to her that old Colonel von Heydeck, Leo's father, who has always held in sovereign contempt all daubers who support themselves by the work of their hands, and who was furious at his son's ways, is nevertheless reconciled to him. The old fellow could not withstand the charms of his lovely daughter-in-law, who is ready to gratify his every whim. He is fairly in love with her himself, and has given up his love of retirement, taking up his abode in her charming villa, and living in perfect concord with her and her old uncle, Balthasar Schommer. He drives with her daily, and she has so thoroughly tamed the old bear that he consents to visit his son's studio frequently, and even begins to be proud of his work."