"No, not in so many words," answered M. Dantès, archly, "but I inferred as much from your manner and tears just now. So I am to understand that you do not want me to reply to the Viscount's letter, am I?"
"Oh! yes, I want you to reply to his letter, but--but----"
"But what, darling?"
"I do not wish you to tell him there is no hope!"
"You think there is hope, then?"
"I--I--am afraid so, dear papa!"
"Yet a moment ago you told me you had no lover, and were merely a little girl!"
"I did not know then that Giovanni was in Paris, and I--I--thought he had forgotten all about me."
M. Dantès smiled as he said: "That makes all the difference in the world, doesn't it, Mademoiselle?"
"Yes," answered Zuleika, innocently; then she added in a tone of great earnestness: "Write to Giovanni in the morning, and--and tell him I shall be delighted to see him."
"I will write and inform him that, so far as I have been able to discover, my daughter does not object to receiving a visit from him."
"Oh! that would be too cold and formal, and Giovanni is such an old friend."
"Well, well," said M. Dantès, "I will so frame my reply as to give entire satisfaction both to you and him. Now, my child, kiss me and retire to your couch, for it is very, very late."
Zuleika embraced her father and kissed him repeatedly; then, with beaming eyes and a countenance overflowing with happiness she ran lightly from the apartment.
As she tripped joyously away, M. Dantès arose from his arm-chair and gazed after her with a look of the utmost sadness.
"Oh! my daughter, my daughter," he murmured, "soon will you also quit me, and then I shall be alone, indeed! True, Espérance will remain, but, generous, manly and heroic as he is, he can never fill the void Zuleika will leave. Oh! Haydée, Haydée, my beloved wife, why were you torn so ruthlessly from your husband's heart!"
Zuleika's dreams that night were rose-hued and delicious, and in all of them the central figure was the youthful Roman Viscount.
When day dawned M. Dantès was still pacing his library.