DUPONT. In any case, in acting as I did I was doing my duty. I can hold my head up and fear nothing. Call Julie. She will help you to put the room tidy. [_Madame Dupont goes out_]. DUPONT [_rubbing his hands_] I think I’ve managed things pretty well this time! I _think_ so! _Julie and Madame Dupont come in._ JULIE. Father, is it someone who wants to marry me? DUPONT. It is. [_To Madame Dupont, pointing to the chairs_] Take off those covers. [_To Julie_] You know young M. Mairaut—M. Antonin Mairaut? [_He sits down_]. You have danced together several times. JULIE. Yes. DUPONT. What do you think of him? JULIE. As a husband? DUPONT. As a husband. Don’t answer in a hurry. Take off that cover from the chair you are sitting on and give it to your mother. JULIE [_obeying_] Have his parents formally proposed for him? MME. DUPONT. No. But if they should do so your father and I wish to know— DUPONT [_to Madame Dupont, giving her the last chair cover, which he has taken off himself_] Take all these away. [_Madame Dupont goes out_]. The formal offer has not been made, but it will be soon, in less than an hour. JULIE. Is that why you are taking all this trouble? [_She points to the chairs_]. DUPONT. Precisely. We mustn’t appear to be paupers or people without social position. [_He seizes a bowl in which there are some visiting cards_]. Very old, these cards. Very yellow. And the names, too, common rather. I must put that right. [_To his wife, who returns_] Go down to the printing office and ask Courthezon to give you some printed specimens of our new visiting cards at three francs—no, three francs fifty. And then put that Wagner opera on the piano which someone left to be bound. [_Madame Dupont goes. To Julie_] I have no desire to influence you, my dear. JULIE. Still— DUPONT [_going to the mantelpiece_] Still what? Wait while I light the lamp [_He strikes a match_]. JULIE. Why, it’s still quite light. DUPONT. When one receives visitors one doesn’t wait till it is dark before—You are old enough to know—what the deuce is the matter with the oil?—old enough to know what you are about. Damn the lamps! When they are never lighted it is the devil’s own job to make them burn. Yes, as I was saying, it is for you to weigh the pros and the cons. Marriage—— There! [_He looks round him_] Is there anything else to be done to make things look better? What is that over there? That great stupid Caroline’s hat! MME. DUPONT [_coming in and bringing visiting cards and a piano score of an opera_] Here are the cards and the music book.