She's looking round. She's seen them. She's stopping. She's bursting open the door. She's jumped out! Now! Now! She's in father's arms! [_Covers her face and sobs_.] Oh, Aunt Frankie! Aunt Frankie! FRANZISKA. What else could a father do? Since I have forgiven her, he could not--he could not hold out-- MARIE. She's between father and mother. Oh, how grand she is! She's coming--she's coming. What a homely little thing I shall seem beside her! Oh, I am so frightened! [_Leans against the wall, left. A pause. Voices of_ Magda _and her parents are heard outside_.] _Enter_ Magda, _brilliantly dressed, with a large mantle, and a Spanish veil on her head. She embraces_ Marie. MAGDA. My puss! My little one! How my little one has grown! My pet--my--[_kissing her passionately_]. But what's the matter? You're dizzy. Come, sit down. No, no, please sit down. Now. Yes, you must. [_Places_ Marie _in an arm-chair_.] Dear little hands, dear little hands! [_Kneels before her, kissing and stroking her hands_.] But they're rough and red, and my darling is pale. There are rings round her eyes. SCHWARTZE. [_Lays his hand lightly on her shoulder_.] Magda, we are here too. MAGDA. Yes, yes--I'm entirely--[_Standing up, affectionately_.] Dear old papa! How white you have become! Dear papa! [_Taking his hand_.] But what's the matter with your hand? It's trembling. SCHWARTZE. Nothing, my child. Don't ask about it. MAGDA. H'm--and you've grown handsomer with the years. I can't look at you enough. I shall be very proud with such a handsome papa. But she must get better [_indicating_ Marie]. She's as white as milk. Do you take iron? Eh? You must take iron? [_tenderly_]. Just to think that I am at home! It seems like a fairy tale. It was a capital idea of yours to call me back without any explanations--_senza complimenti_--for we've outgrown those silly misunderstandings long ago. SCHWARTZE. Misunderstandings! MAGDA. I came near driving away. Would not that have been bad of me? But you must acknowledge, I have scratched at the door--very quietly, very modestly--like Lady when she had run away. Where is Lady? Her place is empty. [_Whistles_.] MRS. SCHWARTZE. Why, she's been dead seven years! MAGDA.