Noémi looked down, and Mme. Mauperin, slightly embarrassed and by way of changing the subject, glanced at a Review that was lying open on a work-table at her side.
"Ah!" said Mme. Bourjot, turning to her again, "you've found something you know there—that is your son's last article. And when do you intend having this play?"
"Oh, but I should be so sorry to be the cause—to oblige your daughter——"
"Oh! don't mention it. My daughter is always afraid of undertaking anything."
"Well, but if Noémi really dislikes it," put in M. Bourjot, who had been talking to M. Mauperin and Henri on the other side of the room.
"On the contrary she will be grateful to you," said Mme. Bourjot, addressing Mme. Mauperin without answering M. Bourjot. "We are always obliged to insist on her doing anything for her own enjoyment. Well, when is this play?"
"Renée, when do you think?" asked Mme. Mauperin.
"Why, I should think about—well, we should want a month for the rehearsals, with two a week. We could fix the days and the time that would suit Noémi."
Renée turned towards Noémi, who remained silent.
"Very well, then," said Mme. Bourjot, "let us say Monday and Friday at two o'clock, if that will suit you—shall we?" And turning to the governess she continued: "Mlle. Gogois, you will accompany Noémi. M. Bourjot—you hear—will you give orders for the horses and carriage and the footman to take them to Briche? You can keep Terror for me, and Jean. There, that's all settled. Now, then, you will stay and dine with us, won't you?"