ally Mademoiselle
Valentine, so good, so kind, and so gentle. Villefort looked at
Valentine as they said this. She was in tears, and, strange as it was,
in spite of the emotions he felt at the sight of these tears, he looked
also at Madame de Villefort, and it appeared to him as if a slight
gloomy smile had passed over her thin lips, like a meteor seen passing
inauspiciously between two clouds in a stormy sky.

Chapter 81. The Room of the Retired Baker.

The evening of the day on which the Count of Morcerf had left Danglars'
house with feelings of shame and anger at the rejection of the projected
alliance, M. Andrea Cavalcanti, with curled hair, mustaches in perfect
order, and white gloves which fitted admirably, had entered the
courtyard of the banker's house in La Chaussee d'Antin. He had not been
more than ten minutes in the drawing-room before he drew Danglars aside
into the recess of a bow-window, and, after an ingenious preamble,
related to him all his anxieties and cares since his noble father's
departure. He acknowledged the extreme kindness which had been shown
him by the banker's family, in which he had been received as a son, and
where, besides, his warmest affections had found an object on which
to centre in Mademoiselle Danglars. Danglars listened with the most
profound attention; he had expected this declaration for the last two or
three days, and when at last it came his eyes glistened as much as
they had lowered on listening to Morcerf. He would not, however, yield
immediately to the young man's request, but made a few conscientious
objections. "Are you not rather young, M. Andrea, to think of marrying?"

"I think not, sir," replied M. Cavalcanti; "in Italy the nobility
generally marry young. Life is so uncertain, that we ought to secure
happiness while it is within our reach."

"Well, sir," said Danglars, "in case your proposals, which do me honor,
are accepted by my wife and daughter, by whom shall the preliminary
arrangements be settled? So important a negotiation should, I think, be
conducted by the respective fathers of the young people."

"Sir, my father is a man of great foresight and prudence. Thinking that
I might wish to settle in France, he left me at his departure, together
with the papers establishing my identity, a letter promising, if he
approved of my choice, 150,000 livres per annum from the day I was
married. So far as I can judge, I suppose this to be a quarter of my
father's