"Mamma?"
"What, my child?"
Irene's lips opened and closed repeatedly; it seemed as though some cry would come from them, but she only said in low tones:
"A little wine or bouillon might be brought?"
Malvina shook her head, advanced some steps, looked around:
"Ira!"
The daughter stood before her mother, but now Malvina in her turn was speechless. She inclined her forehead, which covered slowly with a blush; at last she inquired in a low voice:
"Is your father at home?"
"I heard him drive away some moments ago."
"On his return, should he wish to see me, say that I am waiting for him."