MME. DE CÉRAN. With pleasure—I am curious about—please pardon me again! (_She opens the paper and reads_) PAUL. (_To his wife_) Bravo! Keep it up! The Joubert was excellent and the de Tocqueville—I say! JEANNE. It wasn’t de Tocqueville—it was _I_. PAUL. Oh! MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Reading_) “Revel very ill.” Just what I thought. Saint-Réault isn’t losing much time. (_Handing the paper to_ PAUL) I found out what I wanted to know, thank you. But I shan’t keep you, you shall be shown to your rooms. We dine sharp at six; you know the Duchess is very punctual. At four tea is served; at five we take a stroll and at six have dinner. (_The clock strikes four_) Ah, four already, and here she is! (_The_ DUCHESS _enters, followed by_ FRANCOIS, _who brings her chair and her work-basket. A maid brings tea. The_ DUCHESS _sits in the chair placed for her_) My dear Aunt, allow me to present—— DUCHESS. (_Settling herself_) Wait a minute—wait a minute. There! Present whom? (_She looks through her lorgnette_) It isn’t Raymond that you want to present, is it? I’ve known him for a long time. PAUL. (_Advancing with_ JEANNE) No, Duchess, but Madame Paul Raymond, his wife,—if you please! DUCHESS. (_Gazing at_ JEANNE, _who bows_) She’s pretty—very pretty! With my Suzanne, and Lucy, despite her glasses, that makes three pretty women in my house—and heaven knows that’s not too many! (_She drinks_) And how on earth did a charming girl like you happen to marry that awful Republican? PAUL. (_Chaffingly_) Oh, Duchess, I a Republican! DUCHESS. Well, you were one, at least! (_She drinks again_) PAUL. Oh, well, like everyone else, when I was little. That is the measles of politics, Duchess, everybody has to have it. DUCHESS. (_Laughing_) Ah, oh, ah, the measles! Isn’t he funny! (_To_ JEANNE) And you, my dear, you like a joke once in a while, too? JEANNE. Oh, Duchess, I have no objection to a little frivolity—in moderation. DUCHESS. That isn’t very frivolous, but it’s better than nothing. Well, well—I like a little frivolity myself, especially in a person of your age. (_To the maid_) Here, take this away. (_She hands her cup to the maid_) MME. DE CÉRAN. (_To the maid_) Will you show Madame Raymond to her room, Mademoiselle? (_To_ JEANNE) Your room is this way, just next to mine—— JEANNE. Thank you, Madame. (_To_ PAUL) Come, dear. MME. DE CÉRAN. Oh, no, I have put your husband over there on the other side, among the workers: my son, the Count and Monsieur Bellac, in the Pavilion, which we call—a little pretentiously, perhaps—the Pavillion of the Muses. (_To_ PAUL) Francois will show you the way. I thought you would be able to work better there. PAUL. Admirable arrangement, Countess; I thank you. (JEANNE _pinches him_) Oh! JEANNE. (_Sweetly_) Go, my dear. PAUL. (_Aside to her_) You’ll come at least and help me unpack my trunks? JEANNE. How can I? PAUL. Through the upper corridor.