He found him in excellent spirits. In fact, so carefree did the new monarch appear, that Robert hesitated to broach the subject; but concluding that it was a case of now or never he put his temerity aside.
Hakon heard him out calmly. It was apparent that he had been expecting this.
“My son,” be said, finally, “this is no surprize to me. The days of my youth are not so distant that I do not recognize the symptoms of love.” He sighed. “I can’t blame you for loving her. She is her mother over again.”
His fine eyes softened as he spoke of his deceased wife. Robert did not presume to interrupt his thoughts. He waited patiently while the emperor sat in silent reminiscence.
Presently Hakon resumed, putting memories from him with a visible effort.
“You are brave, my boy, and deserving of her great love—you see, she has already told me. Duty calls you back to your world, many, many leagues distant. But it is a younger, more luxuriant world. I will not selfishly deny her happiness, though she is my greatest treasure. I would that you could remain with us, but, if you must go, she may go with you if she wishes. Let her decide. I make but one condition; if she can not be happy in your world, bring her back to me if you can.”
“I promise, sire,” said Robert, touched too deeply at the emperor’s sacrifice to say more for the moment.
A soft step caused them both to look up abruptly. Zola stood before them. She had stolen in while they were talking. Her eyes were brimming with misty happiness.
“I heard what you were saying, you dears,” she murmured.
“And your decision, Zola?” Robert faltered.