Mercadet
But I know her perfectly well—­as if—­in a word, I know her—­

Minard
No, sir, you do not.

Mercadet
Do you mean to contradict me again, sir?

Minard You know the Julie that all the world sees; but love has transfigured her!  Tenderness and devotion lend to her a transporting beauty that I alone have called up in her.

Julie
Father, I feel ashamed—­

Mercadet
You mean you feel happy.  And if you, sir, repeat these things—­

Minard I shall repeat them a hundred times, a thousand times, and even then I couldn’t repeat them often enough.  There is no crime in repeating them before a father!

Mercadet
You flatter me!  I did believe myself her father; but you are the
father of a Julie whose acquaintance I should very much like to make.

Minard
You have never been in love, I suppose?

Mercadet
I have been very much in love!  And felt the galling chain of gold like
everybody else.

Minard
That was long ago.  In these days we love in a better way.

Mercadet
How do you do that?

Minard
We cling to the soul, to the idea!

Mercadet
What we used to call under the Empire, having our eyes bandaged.

Minard
It is love, pure and holy, which can lend a charm to all the hours of
life.

Mercadet
Yes all!—­except the dinner hour.

Julie Father, do not ridicule two children who love each other with a passion which is true and pure, because it is founded upon a knowledge of each other’s character; on the certitude of their mutual ardor in conquering the difficulties of life; in a word, of two children who will also cherish sincere affection for you.

Minard (to Mercadet)
What an angel, sir!

Mercadet (aside) I’ll angel you! (Putting an arm around each.) Happy children!—­You are absolutely in love?  What a fine romance! (To Minard) You desire her for your wife?

Minard
Yes, sir.

Mercadet
In spite of all obstacles?

Minard
It is mine to overcome them!

Julie Father, ought you not to be grateful to me in that by my choice I am giving you a son full of lofty sentiments, endowed with a courageous soul, and—­

Minard
Mademoiselle—­Julie.

Julie
Let me finish; I must have my say.

Mercadet
My daughter, go and see your mother, and let me speak of matters which
are a great deal more material than these.

Julie
I will go, father—­

Mercadet
Come back presently with your mother, my child.

(Mercadet kisses Julie and leads her to the door.)

Minard (aside)
I feel my hopes revive.

Mercadet (returning)
Sir, I am a ruined man.

Minard
What does that mean?

Mercadet Totally ruined.  And if you wish to have my Julie, you are welcome to her.  She will be much better off at your house, poor as you are, than in her paternal home.  Not only is she without dowry, but she is burdened with poor parents—­parents who are more than poor.