A few days after this M. and Mme. Mauperin, Henri, Renee, and Denoisel were sitting together after dinner in the little garden which stretched out at the back of the house, between the walls of the refinery and its outbuildings. The largest tree in the garden was a fir, and the rose-trees had been allowed to climb up to its lowest branches, so that its green arms stirred the roses. Under the tree was a swing, and at the back of it a sort of thicket of lilacs and witch-elms; there was a round plot of grass, with a garden bench and a very small pool with a white curbstone round it and a fountain that did not play. The pool was full of aquatic plants and a few black newts were swimming in it. "You don't intend to have any theatricals, then, Renee?" Henri was saying to his sister. "You've quite given up that idea?" "Given up--no; but what can I do? It isn't my fault, for I would act anything--I'd stand on my head. But I can't find any one else, so that, unless I give a monologue--Denoisel has refused, and as for you, a sober man like you--well, I suppose it's no use asking." "I, why, I would act right enough," answered Henri. "You, Henri?" exclaimed Mme. Mauperin in astonishment. "And then, too, we are not short of men," continued Renee, "there are always men to act. It's for the women's parts. Ah, that's the difficulty--to find ladies. I don't see who is to act with me." "Oh," said Henri, "if we look about among all the people we know, I'll wager----" "Well, let's see: there's M. Durand's daughter. Why, yes--what do you think? M. Durand's daughter? They are at Saint-Denis; that will be convenient for the rehearsals. She's rather a simpleton, but I should think for the role of Mme. de Chavigny----" "Ah," put in Denoisel, "you still want to act 'The Caprice'?" "Now for a lecture, I suppose? But as I'm going to act with my brother----" "And the performance will be for the benefit of the poor, I hope?" continued Denoisel. "Why?" "It would make the audience more disposed to be charitable." "We'll see about that, sir, we'll see about it. Well, Emma Durand--will that do? What do you think, mamma?" "They are not our sort of people, my dear," answered Mme. Mauperin quickly; "they are all very well at a distance, people like that, but every one knows where they sprang from--the Rue St. Honore. Mme. Durand used to go and receive the ladies at their carriage-door, and M. Durand would slip out at the back and take the servant-men to have a glass at the wine-shop round the corner. That's how the Durands made their fortune."