ut.

"Well!" said Andrea,--"my servant's coat and my hat?"

"Ah," said Caderousse, "you would not like me to risk taking cold?"

"But what am I to do?"

"You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Au revoir,
Benedetto;" and running into a court, he disappeared. "Alas," said
Andrea, sighing, "one cannot be completely happy in this world!"

Chapter 65. A Conjugal Scene.

At the Place Louis XV. the three young people separated--that is to
say, Morrel went to the Boulevards, Chateau-Renaud to the Pont de
la Revolution, and Debray to the Quai. Most probably Morrel and
Chateau-Renaud returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the
gallery of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of
the Rue Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with
Debray. When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, he turned to the left,
galloped across the Carrousel, passed through the Rue Saint-Roch, and,
issuing from the Rue de la Michodiere, he arrived at M. Danglars' door
just at the same time that Villefort's landau, after having deposited
him and his wife at the Faubourg St. Honore, stopped to leave the
baroness at her own house. Debray, with the air of a man familiar with
the house, entered first into the court, threw his bridle into the hands
of a footman, and returned to the door to receive Madame Danglars, to
whom he offered his arm, to conduct her to her apartments. The gate once
closed, and Debray and the baroness alone in the court, he asked,--"What
was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so affected at that
story, or rather fable, which the count related?"

"Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, my
friend," said the baroness.

"No, Hermine," replied Debray; "you cannot make me believe that; on the
contrary, you were in excellent spirits when you arrived at the count's.
M. Danglars was disagreeable, certainly, but I know how much you care
for his ill-humor. Some one has vexed you; I will allow no one to annoy
you."

"You are deceived, Lucien, I assure you," replied Madame Danglars; "and
what I have told you is really the case, added to the ill-humor you
remarked, but which I did not think it worth while to allude to." It
was evident that Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervous
irritability which women frequently cannot account for even to
themselves; or that, as Debray had guessed, she had experienced some
secret agitation that sh