r's?" said Beauchamp, placing his eye-glass in his eye, where he
tried to make it remain.

"My dear sir," said Chateau-Renaud, "allow me to tell you that you do
not understand that manoeuvre with the eye-glass half so well as Debray.
Give him a lesson, Debray."

"Stay," said Beauchamp, "surely I am not deceived."

"What is it?"

"It is she!"

"Whom do you mean?"

"They said she had left."

"Mademoiselle Eugenie?" said Chateau-Renaud; "has she returned?"

"No, but her mother."

"Madame Danglars? Nonsense! Impossible!" said Chateau-Renaud; "only
ten days after the flight of her daughter, and three days from the
bankruptcy of her husband?"

Debray colored slightly, and followed with his eyes the direction of
Beauchamp's glance. "Come," he said, "it is only a veiled lady, some
foreign princess, perhaps the mother of Cavalcanti. But you were just
speaking on a very interesting topic, Beauchamp."

"I?"

"Yes; you were telling us about the extraordinary death of Valentine."

"Ah, yes, so I was. But how is it that Madame de Villefort is not here?"

"Poor, dear woman," said Debray, "she is no doubt occupied in distilling
balm for the hospitals, or in making cosmetics for herself or friends.
Do you know she spends two or three thousand crowns a year in this
amusement? But I wonder she is not here. I should have been pleased to
see her, for I like her very much."

"And I hate her," said Chateau-Renaud.

"Why?"

"I do not know. Why do we love? Why do we hate? I detest her, from
antipathy."

"Or, rather, by instinct."

"Perhaps so. But to return to what you were saying, Beauchamp."

"Well, do you know why they die so multitudinously at M. de
Villefort's?"

"'Multitudinously' is good," said Chateau-Renaud.

"My good fellow, you'll find the word in Saint-Simon."

"But the thing itself is at M. de Villefort's; but let's get back to the
subject."

"Talking of that," said Debray, "Madame was making inquiries about that
house, which for the last three months has been hung with black."

"Who is Madame?" asked Chateau-Renaud.

"The minister's wife, pardieu!"

"Oh, your pardon! I never visit ministers; I leave that to the princes."

"Really, You were only before sparkling, but now you are brilliant; take
compassion on us, or, like Jupiter, you will wither us up."

"I will not speak again," said Chateau-Renaud; "pray have compassion
upon me, and do not take up every word I say."

"Come, let us endeavor