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THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.

when three great passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude, fill the heart, ennui can find no place."

"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Hay dee, charming and poetical. One can see that you descend from that race of goddesses who claim your country as their birthplace. Depend on my care to see that your youth is not blighted, for if you love me as a father, I love you as a child."

"Let not my lord be deceived. I did not love my father as I love you; my love for you is quite different. My father is dead, and I am not dead; while if you were to die, I would die."

The count, with a look of indescribable tenderness, extended his hand to the speaker, who carried it to her lips.

Monte-Cristo, thus soothed and calmed into a befitting state of mind to pay his visit to the Morrels, departed, murmuring as he went these lines of Pindar, "Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather it." The carriage was prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into it, the count drove off at his usual rapid pace.