Chapter 76 - Page 2

that the baroness received the count, although she
had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his
name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance.

The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugenie sat
near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed
in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes
and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and
tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so
displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte
Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist
putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied
by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs
launched in the same direction. Mademoiselle Danglars was
still the same -- cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of
these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her; they might
have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some
philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of
Sappho. Eugenie bowed coldly to the count, and availed
herself of the first moment when the conversation became
earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two
cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with
occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that
Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that
of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise
d'Armilly, her singing teacher.

It was then, especially while conversing with Madame
Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the
conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's
solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door
he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The
banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed
towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for
his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their
wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend,
until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life.

"Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?"
said Danglars to Andrea. "Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea
with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones.
Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened
it.

The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at
the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a
fancy to which they had accustomed themselves, and performed
admirably. Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whom they then perceived
through the open doorway, formed with Eugenie one of the
tableaux vivants of which the Germans are so fond. She was
somewhat beautiful, and exquisitely formed -- a little
fairy-like figure, with large curls falling on her neck,
which was