Heinecke. Ah--In the first place because it was not the young Muhlingk--When _your_ friend comes, then you can receive him. The old gentleman is my friend--We've promised to call on each other. And second: because I don't have to ask my son what is right for me to do--Now you know--See? Frau Heinecke. Oh, Father! Heinecke. Don't interrupt me when I'm giving my son a little admonition. From now on I'm not going to be fooled with. Michalski. (_Behind him_) That's the way to talk. Robert. Was the discussion about Alma? Heinecke. In the first place the discussion was about you. You have been discharged from his service, because of insubordination. Frankly, I expected more gratitude. Robert. You? Heinecke. (_Sternly_) Yes, me! Your honest old father!--It isn't pleasant for me to have my son wander around as a clerk out of a job. Now you've got till four to settle your accounts or it will go hard with you. Robert. (_About to break out--controls himself_) Let's talk about Alma! Did he offer satisfaction? Heinecke. Certainly, absolute. Robert. (_Hesitating, as if saying something foolish _) Ah--marriage? Heinecke. What marriage? Robert. With his son---- Heinecke. You must be crazy. Robert. (_Anxiously_) Well, what else? Heinecke. (_Slyly in his ear_) Forty thousand marks! (_Aloud_) Fine, eh? Robert. (_With a cry_) Money! Frau Heinecke. (_Frightened_) Lord! I thought so! Heinecke. Yes, sir! Here it is, good as gold! Robert. What! you took it? Heinecke. (_Wonderingly_) Well? Robert. He offered you money and you took it! (_Against his will he springs toward his father_) Michalski. (_Stepping between them_) I advise you to leave the old man alone! Robert. (_Reeling back without noticing him_) Mother, you took it! Frau Heinecke. (_Folding her hands_) We're poor folks, my boy! (Robert _sinks down with a strange laugh on the work-stool_. Michalski _and_ Auguste _gather about_ Heinecke _and_ Frau Heinecke; Alma _sits smiling, with folded hands_) God have mercy on us! There's something wrong with him! (_Puts her hand on his shoulder_) My Boy, take a little advice from your poor old mother. Don't step on your good fortune's toes, for pride dies on the straw.