"What a long time ago it seems," observed Mme. Bourjot to Mme. Mauperin, as she looked at the two girls, "since we used to take them to the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin to those lectures, that bored us as much as they did the poor children. I can see them now, playing together. Yours was just like quicksilver, a regular little turk, and mine--Oh, they were like night and day! But yours always led mine on. Oh, dear, what a rage they had at one time for charades--do you remember? They used to carry off all the towels in the house to dress up with." "Oh, yes," exclaimed Renee, laughing and turning to Noemi, "our finest one was when we did _Marabout_; with _Marat_ in a bath that was too hot, calling out, '_Je bous, je bous_!' Do you remember?" "Yes, indeed," answered Noemi, trying to keep back a smile, "but it was your idea." "I am so glad, madame, to find you quite inclined beforehand for what I wanted to ask you--for my visit is a selfish one. It was chiefly with the idea of letting our daughters see something of each other that I came. Renee wants to get up a play, and she naturally thought of her old school-friend. If you would allow your daughter to take part in a piece with my daughter--it would be just a little family affair--quite informal." As Mme. Mauperin made this request, Noemi, who had been talking to Renee and had put her hand in her friend's, drew it away again abruptly. "Thank you so much for the idea," answered Mme. Bourjot, "thanks, too, to Renee. You could not have asked me anything that would have suited me better and given me so much pleasure. I think it would be very good for Noemi--the poor child is so shy that I am in despair! It would make her talk and come out of herself. For her mind, too, it would be an excellent stimulant----" "Oh! but, mother, you know very well--why, I've no memory. And then, too--why, the very idea of acting frightens me. Oh, no--I can't act----" Mme. Bourjot glanced coldly at her daughter. "But, mother, if I could--No, I should spoil the whole play, I'm sure." "You will act--I wish you to do so." Noemi looked down, and Mme. Mauperin, slightly embarrassed and by way of changing the subject, glanced at a Review that was lying open on a work-table at her side. "Ah!" said Mme. Bourjot, turning to her again, "you've found something you know there--that is your son's last article. And when do you intend having this play?" "Oh, but I should be so sorry to be the cause--to oblige your daughter----" "Oh! don't mention it. My daughter is always afraid of undertaking anything." "Well, but if Noemi really dislikes it," put in M. Bourjot, who had been talking to M. Mauperin and Henri on the other side of the room. "On the contrary she will be grateful to you," said Mme. Bourjot, addressing Mme. Mauperin without answering M. Bourjot. "We are always obliged to insist on her doing anything for her own enjoyment. Well, when is this play?" "Renee, when do you think?" asked Mme. Mauperin.