Bourbons."
"Oh, I have often heard whispers of things that seem to me most
strange — the father a Bonapartist, the son a Royalist; what can
have been the reason of so singular a difference in parties and
politics? But to resume my story; I turned towards my grandfather,
as though to question him as to the cause of his emotion; he looked
expressively at the newspaper I had been reading. `What is the
matter, dear grandfather?' said I, `are you pleased?' He gave me a
sign in the affirmative. `With what my father said just now?' He
returned a sign in the negative. `Perhaps you liked what M.
Danglars said?' Another sign in the negative. `Oh, then, you were
glad to hear that M. Morrel (I didn't dare to say Maximilian) had
been made an officer of the Legion of Honor?' He signified assent;
only think of the poor old man's being so pleased to think that
you, who were a perfect stranger to him, had been made an officer
of the Legion of Honor! Perhaps it was a mere whim on his part, for
he is falling, they say, into second childhood, but I love him for
showing so much interest in you."
"How singular," murmured Maximilian; "your father hates me,
while your grandfather, on the contrary — What strange feelings are
aroused by politics."
"Hush," cried Valentine, suddenly; "some one is coming!"
Maximilian leaped at one bound into his crop of lucerne, which he
began to pull up in the most ruthless way, under the pretext of
being occupied in weeding it.
"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" exclaimed a voice from behind the
trees. "Madame is searching for you everywhere; there is a visitor
in the drawing-room."
"A visitor?" inquired Valentine, much agitated; "who is it?"
"Some grand personage — a prince I believe they said — the Count
of Monte Cristo."
"I will come directly," cried Valentine aloud. The name of Monte
Cristo sent an electric shock through the young man on the other
side of the iron gate, to whom Valentine's "I am coming" was the
customary signal of farewell. "Now, then," said Maximilian, leaningcustomary signal of farewell. "Now, then," said Maximilian, leaning
on the handle of his spade, "I would give a good deal to know how
it comes about that the Count of Monte Cristo is acquainted with M.
de Villefort."It was really the Count of Monte Cristo who had just arrived at
Madame de Villefort's for the purpose of returning the procureur's
visit, and at his name, as may be easily imagined, the whole house
was in confusion. Madame de Villefort, who was alone in her
drawing-room when the count was announced, desired that her son
might be brought thither instantly to renew his thanks to the
count; and Edward, who heard this great personage talked of for two
whole days, made all possible haste to come to him, not from
obedience to his mother, or out of any feeling of gratitude to the
count, but from sheer curiosity, and that some chance remark might
give him the opportunity for making one of the impertinent speeches
which made his mother say, — "Oh, that naughty child! But I can't
be severe with him, he is really so bright."
After the usual civilities, the count inquired after M. de
Villefort. "My husband dines with the chancellor," replied the
young lady; "he has just gone, and I am sure he'll be exceedingly
sorry not to have had the pleasure of seeing you before he went."
Two visitors who were there when the count arrived, having gazed at
him with all their eyes, retired after that reasonable delay which
politeness admits and curiosity requires. "What is your sister
Valentine doing?" inquired Madame de Villefort of Edward; "tell
some one to bid her come here, that I may have the honor of
introducing her to the count."
"You have a daughter, then, madame?" inquired the count; "very
young, I presume?"
"The daughter of M. de Villefort by his first marriage," replied
the young wife, "a fine well-grown girl."
"But melancholy," interrupted Master Edward, snatching the
feathers out of the tail of a splendid parroquet that was screaming
on its gilded perch, in order to make a plume for his hat. Madame
de Villefort merely cried, — "Be still, Edward!" She then added, —
"This young madcap is, however, very nearly right, and merely
re-echoes what he has heard me say with pain a hundred times; forre-echoes what he has heard me say with pain a hundred times; for
Mademoiselle de Villefort is, in spite of all we can do to rouse
her, of a melancholy disposition and taciturn habit, which
frequently injure the effect of her beauty. But what detains her?
Go, Edward, and see."
"Because they are looking for her where she is not to be
found."
"And where are they looking for her?"
"With grandpapa Noirtier."
"And do you think she is not there?"
"No, no, no, no, no, she is not there," replied Edward, singing
his words.
"And where is she, then? If you know, why don't you tell?"
"She is under the big chestnut-tree," replied the spoiled brat,
as he gave, in spite of his mother's commands, live flies to the
parrot, which seemed keenly to relish such fare. Madame de
Villefort stretched out her hand to ring, intending to direct her
waiting-maid to the spot where she would find Valentine, when the
young lady herself entered the apartment. She appeared much
dejected; and any person who considered her attentively might have
observed the traces of recent tears in her eyes.
Valentine, whom we have in the rapid march of our narrative
presented to our readers without formally introducing her, was a
tall and graceful girl of nineteen, with bright chestnut hair, deep
blue eyes, and that reposeful air of quiet distinction which
characterized her mother. Her white and slender fingers, her pearly
neck, her cheeks tinted with varying hues reminded one of the
lovely Englishwomen who have been so poetically compared in their
manner to the gracefulness of a swan. She entered the apartment,
and seeing near her stepmother the stranger of whom she had already
heard so much, saluted him without any girlish awkwardness, or even
lowering her eyes, and with an elegance that redoubled the count's
attention. He rose to return the salutation. "Mademoiselle de
Villefort, my daughter-in-law," said Madame de Villefort to Monte
Cristo, leaning back on her sofa and motioning towards Valentine