MADAME GUERET. Well, goodness me, she'll have to know sometime! I must say I cannot understand the way you've kept this dreadful thing from her. It's pure sentimentality. GUERET. The poor child! MADAME GUERET. You really are ridiculous. One would think that it was only _her_ money the lawyer took. It's gone, of course; but so is ours. GUERET. We still have La Tremblaye. MADAME GUERET. Yes, thank goodness, because La Tremblaye belongs to me. _Rene comes in in great excitement._ RENE. Where is Mademoiselle Therese? She'll keep the stage waiting! [_Listening_] No, she's coming, I hear her. Nice fright she's given me! [_To Madame Gueret_] Above all, Madame, don't forget the bell, almost the moment that Mademoiselle Therese comes off the stage. MADAME GUERET. Yes, yes. RENE. And my properties! [_He runs out_] FELIAT. Now we can talk for a minute. MADAME GUERET. Yes. FELIAT. You've quite made up your minds to come to Evreux? GUERET. Quite. FELIAT. Are you sure you won't regret Paris? MADAME GUERET. Oh, no. GUERET. For the last two years I've hated Paris. MADAME GUERET. Since you began to play cards. GUERET. For the last two years we've had the greatest difficulty in keeping up appearances. This lawyer absconding is the last blow. FELIAT. Aren't you afraid you will be horribly bored at La Tremblaye? GUERET [_rising_] What are we to do? FELIAT. Well, now listen to me. I told you-- _Rene comes in and takes something off a table. Feliat stops suddenly._ RENE. Good-morning, uncle. [_He hurries out_] FELIAT. Good-morning, Rene. GUERET. He knows nothing about it yet? FELIAT. No; and my sister-in-law asked me to tell him. MADAME GUERET. Well, why shouldn't you? If they _are_ engaged, we know nothing about it. GUERET. Oh! MADAME GUERET. We know nothing officially, because in these days young people don't condescend to consult their parents. FELIAT. Rene told his people and they gave their consent. MADAME GUERET. Unwillingly. FELIAT. Oh certainly, unwillingly. Then I'm to tell him? MADAME GUERET. The sooner the better. FELIAT. I'll tell him to-night. GUERET. I'm afraid it'll be an awful blow to the poor chap. MADAME GUERET. Oh, he's young. He'll get over it. FELIAT. What was I saying when he came in? Ah, yes; you know I've decided to add a bindery to my printing works at Evreux; you saw the building started when you were down there. If things go as I want them to, I shall try to do some cheap artistic binding. I want to get hold of a man who won't rob me to manage this new branch and look after it; a man who won't be too set in his ideas, because I want him to adopt mine; and, at the same time, I'd like him to be not altogether a stranger. I thought I'd found him; but I saw the man yesterday and I don't like him. Now will _you_ take on the job? Would it suit you?