“No, no, no, no!” she exclaimed, turning from one to the other, with the wild appeal of a passionate heart.
“Come, little dove!” said the father, taking her by the hands; “do not be so easily fluttered. It is but for a short time. He will return again.”
“How long, papa? How long, Enrique?”
“But a very short while. It will be longer to me than to you, Zoe.”
“Oh! no, no; an hour will be a long time. How many hours do you think, Enrique?”
“Oh! we shall be gone days, I fear.”
“Days! Oh, papa! Oh, Enrique! Days!”
“Come, little chit; they will soon pass. Go! Help your mamma to make the coffee.”
“Oh, papa! Days; long days. They will not soon pass when I am alone.”
“But you will not be alone. Your mamma will be with you.”