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Her
ennui
had
vanished
.
"
They
are
not
scoundrels
,
"
replied
Count
Altamira
.
"
I
talk
to
you
about
myself
in
order
to
give
you
a
vivid
impression
.
Look
at
the
Prince
of
Araceli
.
He
casts
his
eyes
on
his
golden
fleece
every
five
minutes
;
he
cannot
get
over
the
pleasure
of
seeing
that
decoration
on
his
breast
.
In
reality
the
poor
man
is
really
an
anachronism
.
The
fleece
was
a
signal
honour
a
hundred
years
ago
,
but
he
would
have
been
nowhere
near
it
in
those
days
.
But
nowadays
,
so
far
as
people
of
birth
are
concerned
,
you
have
to
be
an
Araceli
to
be
delighted
with
it
.
He
had
a
whole
town
hanged
in
order
to
get
it
.
"
"
Is
that
the
price
he
had
to
pay
?
"
said
Julien
anxiously
.
"
Not
exactly
,
"
answered
Altamira
coldly
,
"
he
probably
had
about
thirty
rich
landed
proprietors
in
his
district
who
had
the
reputation
of
being
Liberals
thrown
into
the
river
.
"
"
What
a
monster
!
"
pursued
Julien
.
Mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
who
was
leaning
her
head
forward
with
keenest
interest
was
so
near
him
that
her
beautiful
hair
almost
touched
his
shoulder
.
"
You
are
very
young
,
"
answered
Altamira
.
"
I
was
telling
you
that
I
had
a
married
sister
in
Provence
.
She
is
still
pretty
,
good
and
gentle
;
she
is
an
excellent
mother
,
performs
all
her
duties
faithfully
,
is
pious
but
not
a
bigot
.
"
"
What
is
he
driving
at
?
"
thought
mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
.
"
She
is
happy
,
"
continued
the
comte
Altamira
;
"
she
was
so
in
1815
.
I
was
then
in
hiding
at
her
house
on
her
estate
near
the
Antibes
.
Well
the
moment
she
learnt
of
marshall
Ney
’
s
execution
she
began
to
dance
.
"
"
Is
it
possible
?
"
said
Julien
,
thunderstruck
.
