ROGER. But, Mother, you surprise me! Suzanne, a little child I left in short dresses, climbing trees, a child I used to punish with extra lessons, who used to jump on my knee and call me Daddy—— Come, come! It is impossible! Such demoralization at her age! DUCHESS. Demoralization? Because she is in love! You are a true son of your mother, if there ever was one! At “her age”! You ought to have seen me when I was that old! There was a hussar, in a blue and silver uniform! He was superb! His brains were all in his sword-hilt! But at my age—! A young heart is like a new land: the discoverer is seldom the ruler. Now it seems—this Bellac—oh, it doesn’t seem possible, and yet—young girls, you know—- We must take care! (_Aside_) I don’t believe a word of it, but I’ll be on my guard!—And that is why I want you to do me the favor of burying your _Tumuli_ and giving your attention to her, and her alone. (_Enter_ SUZANNE.) SUZANNE. (_Stealing up behind_ ROGER, _puts her hands over his eyes_) Who is it? ROGER. (_Rising_) Ehh? SUZANNE. (_Stepping in front of him_) Here I am! ROGER. (_Surprised_) But,—Mademoiselle! SUZANNE. Naughty man! Not to recognize your own daughter! ROGER. Suzanne! DUCHESS. (_Aside_) He’s blushing! SUZANNE. Well, aren’t you going to kiss me? MME. DE CÉRAN. Suzanne, that’s not quite the thing—— SUZANNE. To kiss your father? The idea! DUCHESS. (_To_ ROGER) Kiss her, why don’t you! (SUZANNE _and_ ROGER _kiss_.) SUZANNE. How happy I am! Just think, I had no idea you were coming home to-day! Mme. de Saint-Réault told me just now at the lecture; so, without saying a word—I was right near the door—I whisked out and ran to the station! MME. DE CÉRAN. Alone? SUZANNE. Yes, all alone! Oh, it was fun! The funniest part—wait till I tell you! When I got to the ticket office I found I didn’t have a sou, and, what do you think?—a gentleman who was buying his ticket offered to buy one for me. Oh, he was a very nice young man! He happened to be going to St. Germain, too, and when he offered to buy my ticket, another man offered, too: a respectable-looking old gentleman,—and then another—and after him, any number of others, who were standing there. They were all going to St. Germain. “But, Mademoiselle, I beg you—I really cannot allow you to——” “Allow me—no, me,—I beg you, Mademoiselle!” I let the old respectable gentleman buy the ticket—for the sake of appearances. MME. DE CÉRAN. You allowed him to——? SUZANNE. I couldn’t very well stay where I was, could I? MME. DE CÉRAN. From a perfect stranger?