He raised his hat and had begun to descend when he heard Irene's voice behind him, calling:
"My father!"
She told her mother and the baron that she wished to exchange a few words with her father, and ran down the steps. The splendid entrance was empty and brightly lighted with lamps; but the liveried Swiss, at sight of the master of the house, stood with his hand on the latch of the glass door. At the foot of the stairs a tall young lady, in a black cloak lined with fur, very formal and very pale, began to speak French:
"Pardon me, that in a place so unfitting, I must tell you that the ball, of which you have spoken to Cara, cannot take place this winter."
Darvid, greatly astonished, inquired:
"Why?"
Irene's blue eyes glittered under the fantastic rim of her hat, as she answered:
"Because the very thought of that ball has disturbed mamma greatly."
After a moment of silence Darvid asked, slowly:
"Has your mother conceived a distaste for amusements?"