“What have we all done, then, dear grandpapa?” said Valentine; “you no longer seem to love any of us?”
The old man’s eyes passed rapidly from Villefort and his wife, and rested on Valentine with a look of unutterable fondness.
“Well,” said she; “if you love me, grandpapa, try and bring that love to bear upon your actions at this present moment. You know me well enough to be quite sure that I have never thought of your fortune; besides, they say I am already rich in right of my mother—too rich, even. Explain yourself, then.”
Noirtier fixed his intelligent eyes on Valentine’s hand.
“My hand?” said she.
“Yes.”
“Her hand!” exclaimed everyone.
“Oh, gentlemen, you see it is all useless, and that my father’s mind is really impaired,” said Villefort.
“Ah,” cried Valentine suddenly, “I understand. It is my marriage you mean, is it not, dear grandpapa?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” signed the paralytic, casting on Valentine a look of joyful gratitude for having guessed his meaning.