y embrace. Rumors reached his ear which nourished
this passion, until it exploded in a violent and irreconcilable quarrel.
One of the chief instigators of the young Count, in this quarrel with
his high-spirited wife, was his own father, who, in the retirement of a
chateau near Paris, grew daily more morose and misanthropic. He had
heard that his son had been dishonored, and his rage and bitterness were
unbounded. The son abandoned his wife's hotel, and repaired to his
father's chateau, where the two lived in seclusion and gloom. After they
had been separated for some time, the Countess was either enticed by
lures thrown out by the elder Pontalba, or of her own accord resorted to
the chateau, for the purpose of consulting the Count relative to certain
dispositions of their joint property, or certain arrangements for the
education of their children, of whom there were three. The son was not
at home; but the father, receiving her in the hall, invited her into his
study. In a few moments afterward, the servants in the chateau were
aroused by the report of a pistol, followed by the scream of a woman,
and by another report; then all was silent. Rushing toward the study of
Mr. Pontalba, they forced the door open--it had been locked on the
inside--and there a terrible spectacle was presented. The Countess lay
on the floor, bathed in blood, which gushed in torrents from a large
wound in her breast, whilst her dress was burning from the nearness of
the shot by which the wound had evidently been inflicted. But a still
ghastlier object lay near. It was the body of the elder Pontalba, her
husband's father, who had blown off the top of his skull with a large
dragoon's pistol, which he still grasped in his hand. Though insensible,
it was discovered that the Countess was not quite dead. A surgeon was
soon obtained, and on examination it was discovered that though her
wound was a terrible one--three buck-shot and one large bullet having
entered her breast--yet there was some hope for her. After incredible
suffering and long confinement, she recovered; though to the day of her
death she will feel the effects of the terrible wound, to which was
added the mutilation of her hand, which caught the bullet.

The causes and circumstances of that tragedy were never unveiled to the
world. Nor is there any great desire to penetrate the mystery. The
Countess got well, and continued her fashionable life, appropriating a
large portion of her great ren