Let us return to M. Franz d'Epinay.
Did you say he was coming?"
"Yes; summoned by M. de Villefort, who is apparently as anxious to get Mademoiselle Valentine married as M. Danglars is to see Mademoiselle Eugenie settled.
It must be a very irksome office to be the father of a grown-up daughter; it seems to make one feverish, and to raise one's pulse to ninety beats a minute until the deed is done."
"But M. d'Epinay, unlike you, bears his misfortune patiently."
"Still more, he talks seriously about the matter, puts on a white tie, and speaks of his family.
He entertains a very high opinion of M. and Madame de Villefort."
"Which they deserve, do they not?"
"I believe they do. M. de Villefort has always passed for a severe but a just man."
"There is, then, one," said Monte Cristo, "whom you do not condemn like poor Danglars?"
"Because I am not compelled to marry his daughter perhaps," replied Albert, laughing.
"Indeed, my dear sir," said Monte Cristo, "you are revoltingly foppish."
"I foppish? how do you mean?"
"Yes; pray take a cigar, and cease to defend yourself, and to struggle to escape marrying Mademoiselle Danglars.
Let things take their course; perhaps you may not have to retract."
"Bah," said Albert, staring.
"Doubtless, my dear viscount, you will not be taken by force; and seriously, do you wish to break off your engagement?"
"I would give a hundred thousand francs to be able to do so."
"Then make yourself quite easy.
M. Danglars would give double that sum to attain the same end."
"Am I, indeed, so happy?" said Albert, who still could not prevent an almost imperceptible cloud passing across his brow. "But, my dear count, has M. Danglars any reason?"
"Ah, there is your proud and selfish nature.
You would expose the self-love of another with a hatchet, but you shrink if your own is attacked with a needle."
"But yet M. Danglars appeared"—
"Delighted with you, was he not?
Well, he is a man of bad taste, and is still more enchanted with another.
I know not whom; look and judge for yourself."
"Thank you, I understand.
But my mother—no, not my mother; I mistake—my father intends giving a ball."
"A ball at this season?"
"Summer balls are fashionable."
"If they were not, the countess has only to wish it, and they would become so."
"You are right; You know they are select affairs; those who remain in Paris in July must be true Parisians.
Will you take charge of our invitation to Messieurs Cavalcanti?"
"When will it take place?"
"On Saturday."
"M. Cavalcanti's father will be gone."
"But the son will be here; will you invite young M. Cavalcanti?"
"I do not know him, viscount."
"You do not know him?"
"No, I never saw him until a few days since, and am not responsible for him."
"But you receive him at your house?"
"That is another thing: he was recommended to me by a good abbe, who may be deceived.
Give him a direct invitation, but do not ask me to present him. If he were afterwards to marry Mademoiselle Danglars, you would accuse me of intrigue, and would be challenging me,—besides, I may not be there myself."
"Where?"
"At your ball."
"Why should you not be there?"
"Because you have not yet invited me."
"But I come expressly for that purpose."
"You are very kind, but I may be prevented."