“Well?” she said. “You said your dearest——”
“My dearest friend, Leonard—of course,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise.
But Zonella’s face paled, and she turned away.
“Let us go,” she said with a shiver, as though a cold wind had blown upon her. “This old gallery is kept locked up so much it gets to smell musty, and makes one feel quite faint.”
CHAPTER XXII.
SMILES AND TEARS.
One morning, Monella sought Leonard and reverted to their former conversation about Ulama.
“You have well considered all the words I spoke to you, my son?” he said. “Are you still of the same mind?”
“I had hoped that you knew me too well to think it necessary to ask the question,” Leonard said earnestly. “Since I first looked upon Ulama, my love for her has been given past all recall. I have never wavered in my resolution to remain here for her dear sake, if I may hope to gain the king’s consent.”
“Then,” returned Monella, “the king would talk with you concerning it. Let us go to him.”