Early next morning she accompanied her father to Mrs. Hannaford's. The Doctor went upstairs; Irene waited in the dining-room, where she was soon joined by Olga. The girl's face was news sufficient; her mother grew worse—had passed a night of delirium. Two nurses were in the house, and the medical man called every few hours. Olga herself looked on the point of collapse; she was haggard with fear; she trembled and wept. In spite of her deep concern and sympathy, Irene's more courageous temper reproved this weakness, wondered at it as unworthy of a grown woman.
"Did Mr. Otway come?" she asked, as soon as It was possible to converse.
"Yes. He was a long time in mother's room, and just before he left her your father came."
"They met?"
"No. Uncle seemed angry when I told him. He said, 'Get rid of him at once!' I suppose he dislikes him because of his brother. It's very unjust."
Irene kept silence.
"He came down—and we talked. I am so glad to have any friend near me! I told him how uncle felt. Of course he will not come again——"
"Why not? This is your house, not my father's!"
"But poor mother couldn't see him now—wouldn't know him. I promised to send him news frequently. I'm going to telegraph this morning."
"Of course," said Irene, with emphasis. "He must understand that you have no such feeling——"