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Updated: June 25, 2025
Are you coming, Morrel?" "Directly I have given my card to the count, who has promised to pay us a visit at Rue Meslay, No. 14." "Be sure I shall not fail to do so," returned the count, bowing. And Maximilian Morrel left the room with the Baron de Chateau-Renaud, leaving Monte Cristo alone with Morcerf. The Presentation.
But in order to console her beloved canon, Mademoiselle took up the large white Chateau-Renaud bricks that made the floors of his apartment and replaced them by wooden floors laid in "point de Hongrie." She also rebuilt a smoky chimney.
The innkeeper at Château-Renaud is our very good friend, or how could we have known that a certain Monsieur Stephen La Mothe, a wandering minstrel with lute and knapsack on his back, was coming our way?" "You knew that?" "From the first," she answered, still smiling, but with so kindly a raillery that not even a lover could take offence.
"Ma foi!" said Chateau-Renaud, "I would rather end my career like M. de Morcerf; a pistol-shot seems quite delightful compared with this catastrophe." "And moreover, it kills," said Beauchamp. "And to think that I had an idea of marrying his daughter," said Debray. "She did well to die, poor girl!"
He followed M. d'Epinay, saw him enter, afterwards go out, and then re-enter with Albert and Chateau-Renaud. He had no longer any doubts as to the nature of the conference; he therefore quickly went to the gate in the clover-patch, prepared to hear the result of the proceedings, and very certain that Valentine would hasten to him the first moment she should be set at liberty.
In his editorial sanctum sat our friend Beauchamp, of whom for some time we have lost sight, but who has, meanwhile, been most industriously at work in his paper, "Le Charivari," in concert with "Le National" and other larger sheets, in forwarding the cause of reform and, finally, of revolution. The door opened and Château-Renaud appeared.
"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.
"It was only to fight as an amateur. I cannot bear duelling since two seconds, whom I had chosen to arrange an affair, forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends, one whom you all know poor Franz d'Epinay." "Ah, true," said Debray, "you did fight some time ago; about what?" "The devil take me, if I remember," returned Chateau-Renaud.
In one of the mourning-coaches Beauchamp, Debray, and Chateau-Renaud were talking of the very sudden death of the marchioness. "I saw Madame de Saint-Meran only last year at Marseilles, when I was coming back from Algiers," said Chateau-Renaud; "she looked like a woman destined to live to be a hundred years old, from her apparent sound health and great activity of mind and body. How old was she?"
"But why does not the Countess marry again?" asked Château-Renaud, surveying her faultless form and face through his glass. "In the prime of life, rich, and, despite her past troubles, most exquisitely beautiful, it is strange she don't make herself and some one else happy!" "Especially as no one could ever accuse her of having very desperately loved her dear first husband," added the journalist.
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