It signified something nearer akin to
real emotion than usual.
"My dear girl," he said, "this is very pleasing, very pleasing
indeed. The day may come--I cannot just now say when--and events may
arise--which--the nature of which I am not yet in a position to indicate
to you--but the barren fig-tree may not be always fruitless. In its old
age the withered trunk may put forth fresh branches. We will say no more
of this, my love; and I will only remark that you may not go unrequited
for any affection bestowed on your poor old father."
Diana smiled, and this time it was a pensive rather than a bitter smile.
She had often heard her father talk like this before. She had often heard
these oracular hints of some grand event looming mighty in the immediate
future; but she had never seen the vague prophecy accomplished. Always a
schemer, and always alternating between the boastful confidence of hope
and the peevish bewailings of despair, the Captain had built his castle
to-day to sit among its ruins to-morrow, ever since she had known him.
So she set little value on his hopeful talk of this evening, but was
content to see him in good spirits. He contemplated her admiringly as she
knelt by his easy-chair, and smoothed the shining coils of her dark hair
with a gentle hand, as he looked downward at the thoughtful face--proud
and grave, but not ungentle.
"You are a very handsome girl, Diana," he murmured, as much to himself as
to his daughter; "yes, very handsome.
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