musicians―you should give us a treat, Danglars, without telling them there is a stranger. Ask them to sing one more song; it is so delightful to hear music in the distance, when the musicians are unrestrained by observation."
Danglars was quite annoyed by the young man's indifference. He took Monte-Cristo aside.
"What do you think of our lover?" said he.
"He appears cool! But, then, your word is given."
"Yes, doubtless, I have promised to give my daughter to a man who loves her, but not to one who does not. Even if Albert had Cavalcanti's fortune, he is so proud, I would not care to see him marry her."
"Oh!" said Monte-Cristo, "my fondness may blind me, but, I assure you, I consider Morcerf far preferable; and his father's position is good."
"Hem!" said Danglars.
"Why do you doubt?"
"The past―that obscurity on the past."
"But that does not affect the son. A month since you thought well of him; you will understand, I am in despair; I know nothing of young Cavalcanti, although you met at my house!"
"But I do."
"Have you made inquiry?"
"Yes; and I know him to be rich."
"What do you suppose him worth?"
"Fifty thousand per annum; and he is well educated."
"Hem?" said Monte-Cristo in his turn.
"He is a musician."
"So are all Italians."
"Come, count, you do not do that young man justice."
"Well, I acknowledge it annoys me, knowing your connection with the Morcerf family, to see him throw himself in the way." Danglars burst out laughing.
"What a Puritan you are!" said he; "that happens every day."
"But you cannot break it off thus; the Morcerfs are depending on this union."
"Indeed?"
"Positively."
"Then let them explain themselves; you should give the father hint, you are so intimate with the family."
"I?―where the devil did you find out that?"
"At their ball; it was apparent enough. Why, did not the countess, the proud Mercedes, the disdainful Catalan, who will scarcely open her lips to her oldest acquaintances, take your arm, lead you into the garden into the private walks, and remain there for half an hour?"
