ing-room, the two friends quitted their box to pay their respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered her box, when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, in his turn, sat behind.
"Well," said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are the best friends in the world."
"Without being so far advanced as that, Madame la Comtesse," returned Franz, "I cannot deny we have abused his good-nature all day."
"All day?"
"Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in his carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his box."
"You know him, then?"
"Yes, and no."
"How so?"
"It is a long story."
"Relate it to me."
"It would frighten you too much."
"Another reason?"
"At least wait until the story has a conclusion."
"Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?"
"No; it was he who introduced himself to us."
"When?"
"Last night, after we left you."
"Through what medium?"
"The very prosaic one of our landlord."
"He is staying, then, at the Hotel de Londres with you?"
"Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor."
"What is his name; for, of course, you know?"
"The Count of Monte-Cristo."
"That is not a family name?"
"No, it is the name of the isle he has purchased."
"And he is a count?"
"A Tuscan count."
"Well, we must put up with that," said the countess, who was herself of one of the oldest families of Venice. "What sort of a man is he?"
"Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf."
"You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you," said the countess.
"We should be very hard to please, madam," returned Albert, "did we not think him delightful: a friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us, or with a more perfect courtesy."
