arrogate to myself the right of so doing."
"And who is with madame? — M. Debray?" inquired Danglars, with
an air of indulgence and good-nature that made Monte Cristo smile,
acquainted as he was with the secrets of the banker's domestic
life.
"Yes, my lord," replied the servant, "M. Debray is with madame."
Danglars nodded his head; then, turning to Monte Cristo, said, "M.
Lucien Debray is an old friend of ours, and private secretary to
the Minister of the Interior. As for my wife, I must tell you, she
lowered herself by marrying me, for she belongs to one of the most
ancient families in France. Her maiden name was De Servieres, and
her first husband was Colonel the Marquis of Nargonne."
"I have not the honor of knowing Madame Danglars; but I have
already met M. Lucien Debray."
"Ah, indeed?" said Danglars; "and where was that?"
"At the house of M. de Morcerf."
"Ah, ha, you are acquainted with the young viscount, are
you?"
"We were together a good deal during the Carnival at Rome."
"True, true," cried Danglars. "Let me see; have I not heard talk
of some strange adventure with bandits or thieves hid in ruins, and
of his having had a miraculous escape? I forget how, but I know he
used to amuse my wife and daughter by telling them about it after
his return from Italy."
"Her ladyship is waiting to receive you, gentlemen," said the
servant, who had gone to inquire the pleasure of his mistress.
"With your permission," said Danglars, bowing, "I will precede you,
to show you the way."
"By all means," replied Monte Cristo; "I follow you."The baron, followed by the count, traversed a long series of
apartments, in which the prevailing characteristics were heavy
magnificence and the gaudiness of ostentatious wealth, until he
reached the boudoir of Madame Danglars — a small octagonal-shaped
room, hung with pink satin, covered with white Indian muslin. The
chairs were of ancient workmanship and materials; over the doors
were painted sketches of shepherds and shepherdesses, after the
style and manner of Boucher; and at each side pretty medallions in
crayons, harmonizing well with the furnishings of this charming
apartment, the only one throughout the great mansion in which any
distinctive taste prevailed. The truth was, it had been entirely
overlooked in the plan arranged and followed out by M. Danglars and
his architect, who had been selected to aid the baron in the great
work of improvement solely because he was the most fashionable and
celebrated decorator of the day. The decorations of the boudoir had
then been left entirely to Madame Danglars and Lucien Debray. M.
Danglars, however, while possessing a great admiration for the
antique, as it was understood during the time of the Directory,
entertained the most sovereign contempt for the simple elegance of
his wife's favorite sitting-room, where, by the way, he was never
permitted to intrude, unless, indeed, he excused his own appearance
by ushering in some more agreeable visitor than himself; and even
then he had rather the air and manner of a person who was himself
introduced, than that of being the presenter of another, his
reception being cordial or frigid, in proportion as the person who
accompanied him chanced to please or displease the baroness.
Madame Danglars (who, although past the first bloom of youth,
was still strikingly handsome) was now seated at the piano, a most
elaborate piece of cabinet and inlaid work, while Lucien Debray,
standing before a small work-table, was turning over the pages of
an album. Lucien had found time, preparatory to the count'san album. Lucien had found time, preparatory to the count's
arrival, to relate many particulars respecting him to Madame
Danglars. It will be remembered that Monte Cristo had made a lively
impression on the minds of all the party assembled at the breakfast
given by Albert de Morcerf; and although Debray was not in the
habit of yielding to such feelings, he had never been able to shake
off the powerful influence excited in his mind by the impressive
look and manner of the count, consequently the description given by
Lucien to the baroness bore the highly-colored tinge of his own
heated imagination. Already excited by the wonderful stories
related of the count by De Morcerf, it is no wonder that Madame
Danglars eagerly listened to, and fully credited, all the
additional circumstances detailed by Debray. This posing at the
piano and over the album was only a little ruse adopted by way of
precaution. A most gracious welcome and unusual smile were bestowed
on M. Danglars; the count, in return for his gentlemanly bow,
received a formal though graceful courtesy, while Lucien exchanged
with the count a sort of distant recognition, and with Danglars a
free and easy nod.
"Baroness," said Danglars, "give me leave to present to you the
Count of Monte Cristo, who has been most warmly recommended to me
by my correspondents at Rome. I need but mention one fact to make
all the ladies in Paris court his notice, and that is, that he has
come to take up his abode in Paris for a year, during which brief
period he proposes to spend six millions of money. That means
balls, dinners, and lawn parties without end, in all of which I
trust the count will remember us, as he may depend upon it we shall
him, in our own humble entertainments." In spite of the gross
flattery and coarseness of this address, Madame Danglars could not
forbear gazing with considerable interest on a man capable of
expending six millions in twelve months, and who had selected Paris
for the scene of his princely extravagance. "And when did you