dence of great kindness of disposition, much keenness of wit, and as to suitableness, M. Danglars assures me his fortune is majestic—that is his term."
"And then," said Eugénie, while turning over the leaves of Madame de Villefort's album, "add that you have taken a great fancy to the young man."
"And," said Madame de Villefort, "I need not ask you if you share that fancy."
"I!" replied Eugénie, with her usual candor. "Oh, not the least in the world, madame! My wish was not to confine myself to domestic cares, or the caprices of any man, but to be an artist, and, consequently, free in heart, in person, and in thought."
Eugénie pronounced these words with so firm a tone that the color mounted to Valentine's cheeks. The timid girl could not understand that vigorous nature which appeared to have none of the timidities of woman.
"At any rate," said she, "since I am to be married whether I will or not, I ought to be thankful to Providence for having released me from my engagement with M. Albert de Morcerf, or I should this day have been the wife of a dishonored man."
"It is true," said the baroness, with that strange simplicity sometimes met with among fashionable ladies, and of which plebeian intercourse can never entirely deprive them,—"it is very true that, had not the Morcerfs hesitated, my daughter would have married that M. Albert. The general depended much on it; he even came to force M. Danglars. We have had a narrow escape."
"But," said Valentine, timidly, "does all the father's shame revert upon the son? M. Albert appears to me quite innocent of the treason charged against the general."
"Excuse me," said the implacable young girl, "M. Albert claims and well deserves his share. It appears that, after having challenged M. de Monte-Cristo at the Opera yesterday, he apologized on the ground to-day."
"Impossible!" said Madame de Villefort.
"Ah, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, with the same simplicity we before noticed, "it is a fact! I heard it from M. Debray, who was present at the explanation."
Valentine also knew the truth, but she did not answer. A single word had reminded her that Morrel was expecting her in Noirtier's room. Deeply engaged with a sort of inward contemplation, Valentine had ceased for a moment to join in the conversation. She would, indeed, have found it impossible to repeat what had been said the last few min-
