In a large building, standing back from the king's street, there are silent workmen, placing strange wedges side by side, which wedges are afterward handed over to a huge monster. It is still at rest, but as soon as it receives them, it suddenly moves, creaks, groans and puffs, and, in an instant, hundreds of human beings are, as it were, created anew.--In other words, it is the government printing-office, and they are printing the official gazette, which at the beginning of every year, announces the promotion and the orders conferred upon hundreds of individuals.
What is New Year's day to most mortals? Retrospection, reflections that life is but transitory, succeeded by joy at what is still left us, and good resolutions for the future; and yet to-morrow is a mere repetition of yesterday.
How different with those whose importance depends upon their station, and who can be elevated into something more than they now are.
The official gazette appeared, with its list of New Year's gifts. One pleasure fell to the lot of the queen. Her English teacher, an estimable and noble hearted old man, whom she had brought with her as her private secretary, received the title of privy councilor, and was thus, in a social sense, rendered capable of being presented at court.
But of all the promotions, none excited so much comment at court and in the capital, as the appointment of Baron Schoning to the office of intendant-general of the royal theater, and he, himself, was more surprised than all others. Although he had been greatly applauded for his share in the French play, in which Irma had also taken part, he had not anticipated such a result. When he read the announcement, he rubbed his eyes, to make sure of being awake. Was it a bit of royal pleasantry? He would willingly submit to any joke, but then it must be in a confined circle, not in the eyes of the world. But it was not a joke, it was the simple truth, for, side by side with his own, he could read of the appointment and the promotion of many distinguished men to important positions.
It was an actual fact--beautiful reality.
In the city it was said, with a significant smile, that the baron had received the appointment in order to place him in the proper position to marry Countess Irma. Others, who were less kindly disposed, asserted that it was freely offered to the gallant court fool, as the court had always regarded theatrical matters as a sort of time-honored buffoonery, furnishing amusement of a light and trivial character.
But Baron Schoning--or, as he must now be styled, the intendant--received the visits of his subordinates with great dignity and then drove to the palace.
On the way, he was obliged to pass Countess Irma's apartments. He stopped and sent in his card.
The countess received him kindly, and offered him her sincere congratulations. He plainly intimated that he, in a great measure, owed his promotion to her, and he remarked that a lady of good taste and true artistic feeling could be his greatest aid and support in his new calling. She affected not to understand him and assented, in an absent manner. Her thoughts were wandering. She would often look out of the window that opened on the park. The snow had almost disappeared and the marble statues of gods and goddesses had thrown off their winter covering. Nearest her window, and in a position which showed its profile, stood the Venus de Milo.