“And when shall we have the honor of seeing you again, your excellency?” asked Cavalcanti.
“Ah,” said Andrea, “when may we hope for that pleasure?”
“On Saturday, if you will—Yes.—Let me see—Saturday—I am to dine at my country house, at Auteuil, on that day, Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28. Several persons are invited, and among others, M. Danglars, your banker. I will introduce you to him, for it will be necessary he should know you, as he is to pay your money.”
“Full dress?” said the major, half aloud.
“Oh, yes, certainly,” said the count; “uniform, cross, knee-breeches.”
“And how shall I be dressed?” demanded Andrea.
“Oh, very simply; black trousers, patent leather boots, white waistcoat, either a black or blue coat, and a long cravat. Go to Blin or Véronique for your clothes. Baptistin will tell you where, if you do not know their address. The less pretension there is in your attire, the better will be the effect, as you are a rich man. If you mean to buy any horses, get them of Devedeux, and if you purchase a phaeton, go to Baptiste for it.”
“At what hour shall we come?” asked the young man.
“About half-past six.”