Darvid turned to her quickly, and said with a prolonged hiss:
"Why?"
She raised sad eyes to him, and with a voice in which Malvina's sweet tones were heard, she answered:
"I am not sure that anyone could tell why he or she loves. Mamma has always been kind—but I do not know—she is very pleasant, and she and I have been together always—I do not know—it may be, besides, that often I have seen her so unhappy. You see, father, that I am sincere; I answer all your questions as far as I am able. Have regard to mamma's scruples, I beg, and my request; do not oppose our plans."
Darvid stood in the middle of the room, he raised his head, his eyes had the flash of steel.
"No," said he. "My daughter shall not wither away in a remote corner with my consent, because it pleases her mother to hide her—shame there."
"Father," answered Irene, "I must explain that your resistance will only give a more permanent, and, for you, a more disagreeable, form to our withdrawal."
She rose, and again on her face, surrounded by the high ruff, was an expression of resolve and energy. A moment before she was full of emotion and pain, now with the need of defence she found energy.
"Do you suppose, father, that you can understand what happened, forgive, to use the general phrase, and restore your esteem and friendship to mamma?"
With a form as rigid as iron, and with an evil smile on his lips,
Darvid answered immediately: