MME. B. Well, that’s just what’s so annoying. We don’t know exactly: it might be a week, or it might be a month. And she _may_ stay there all the time we are away from Châteauneuf. LUCIE. Poor little Annette! MME. B. But I thought you were going away somewhere yourselves this Easter? LUCIE. Yes. MME. B [_kindly_] That relieves my mind a little, and I hope it will make up to Mademoiselle Annette for the disappointment I am obliged to cause her—to my very great regret. LUCIE [_after a silence_] Will you excuse me, madame. [_Hesitating_] Perhaps this is indiscreet. MME. B. Oh, I am sure not, Madame Brignac. LUCIE. I only wanted to ask you if it is long since Mademoiselle Gabrielle got this invitation from her cousins? MME. B. About a week. LUCIE. A week! MME. B. Why does that surprise you? LUCIE. Because she did not mention it to Annette. MME. B. She was afraid of disappointing her. LUCIE. Only yesterday Annette was telling me about all sorts of excursions your daughter was planning for them both. Madame, this invitation is an excuse: please tell me the whole truth. Annette is only my sister, but I love her as if she was my own child, and I speak as a mother to a mother. I’m not going to try to be clever or to stand on my dignity. This is how it is: Annette believes your son loves her, and when you were announced just now she thought you came to arrange her marriage with him. Now you know all that I know. Tell me the truth, and let us do what we can to prevent unhappiness. MME. B. As you speak so simply and feelingly I will tell you candidly exactly what is in my mind. As a matter of fact this invitation to Gabrielle is only a device of ours to prevent Jacques and Annette seeing any more of one another. LUCIE. Then you don’t want them to see any more of one another? MME. B. No, because I don’t want them to marry. LUCIE. Because Annette is poor? MME. B [_after some hesitation_] Well—since we’re speaking plainly—yes, because she is poor. Ah, dear Madame Brignac, we have both been very much to blame for not foreseeing what has happened. LUCIE. _We_ have been to blame? MME. B. I know Annette, and I like her very much. I know you too, better than you think, and I have the greatest respect and esteem for you; it has never even occurred to me that in seeking our acquaintance you had any other motive than friendship. But you ought to have feared and foreseen what has happened? LUCIE. What should I fear? Annette went to see Gabrielle. How could I know that you let your son be with them? You knew it because it happened at your house, and it is you who have been wanting in prudence and foresight. You invited this poor child, you exposed her to danger, you let her take a fancy to your son, you allowed them to fall in love with one another, and you come to-day and calmly tell me that this marriage is impossible, and you are going off to the country leaving it to me to break the poor child’s heart.