Maria’s face changed suddenly, and grew grave and thoughtful. Leone, who had stopped singing, laid down his spoon and watched her. He did not think she looked as if anything had hurt her very much, but he saw that something serious had happened.
She read the telegram over again, and folded it before she looked up at him.
‘Your grandmama is dead, my dear,’ she said gently. ‘She died last night. You never saw her, but you will have to wear black for a little while.’
‘Was it papa’s mother?’ asked Leone.
‘Yes, dear. He telegraphs that he will write to-day.’ She looked out at some green trees which she could just see through the open window. Leone was reflecting on the news.
‘Was she good or bad?’ he asked presently.
Maria looked round and smiled faintly at the abrupt childish question.
‘She was a good woman, darling.’
‘Is papa like her?’ asked the boy.