The countess made no reply. She fell into so deep a reverie that her eyes gradually closed. The young man, standing up before her, gazed upon her with that filial affection which is so tender and endearing with children whose mothers are still young and handsome. Then, after seeing her eyes closed, and hearing her breathe gently, he believed she had dropped asleep, and left the apartment on tiptoe, closing the door after him with the utmost precaution.

“This devil of a fellow,” he muttered, shaking his head; “I said at the time he would create a sensation here, and I measure his effect by an infallible thermometer. My mother has noticed him, and he must therefore, perforce, be remarkable.”

He went down to the stables, not without some slight annoyance, when he remembered that the Count of Monte Cristo had laid his hands on a “turnout” which sent his bays down to second place in the opinion of connoisseurs.

“Most decidedly,” said he, “men are not equal, and I must beg my father to develop this theorem in the Chamber of Peers.”