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THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.
43
first time that any man, except Monte-Cristo, had entered. She was sitting on a sofa in an angle of the room, with her legs crossed, and had made for herself, as it were, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks and embroideries. Near her was the instrument on which she had just been
Haydée and Monte-Cristo.
playing; it was elegantly fashioned, and worthy of its mistress. On perceiving Monte-Cristo, she rose and welcomed him with a kind of smile peculiar to herself, expressive at once of filial affection and of love. Monte-Cristo advanced toward her and extended his hand, which she, as usual, raised to her lips.
