Auguste. (_Holding her back_) I advise you to let him sleep. He"ll hear about it soon enough.

Frau Heinecke. (_Startled_) What d"you mean by that?

Heinecke. (_Pulling at_ Frau Heinecke"s _dress and pointing to kitchen door_) He! he! Her! In there!

Frau Heinecke. Oh, the poor, dear child!

Heinecke. (_Mysteriously_) Well give her a little surprise!--Shh! (_All tiptoe to the kitchen door_--Heinecke, _who is leading the way, opens the door suddenly, then with a cry, starts back_) Wha--wh--Mother!

What"s that?

Frau Heinecke. (_Clasping her hands above her head_) Good Lord!

Michalski. (_Looking over their shoulders_) The devil!

Heinecke. (_With pretended severity_) You come here!

Alma. (_Outside_) Oh, please--no!

Heinecke. Are you coming?

(_Enter_ Alma _dressed in the robe of the Indian Princess, her hands covering her face for shame. All laugh and exclaim in surprise at the costume_. Auguste _feels the material._)

Auguste. The Indian dress.

Michalski. From the stark-naked princess!

Alma. I--just--wanted--to try it on! I"ll take it right off!

Frau Heinecke. Ach! what a little angel!

Alma. Aren"t you angry with me any more?

Heinecke. Angry! (_Then recalling his severity_) That is--yes--very.

But for once we"ll allow mercy to take the place of justice. (_Turning around_) That was pretty good, eh?

Frau Heinecke. (_Strokes_ Alma"s _hair and leads her toward the left_) Come, sit down. No, here on the arm-chair!

Alma. What is it--what"s happened?

Heinecke. Ha! ha!

(All _take their places about him._)

Alma. And I can go to the masked ball?

Heinecke. Ha--ha! Yes, you can go to the masked ball.

Auguste. (_Ironically_) The poor child!

Heinecke. (_Jumping up_) I must go this minute to the bank!

Michalski. (_Opening bottle of liqueur_) Wait! We"ll wet up our luck so it"ll stick! Alma, some gla.s.ses.

Frau Heinecke. (_Getting up_) Let the poor child sit still! I"ll "tend to that myself! (_She goes to the washstand and brings a set of liqueur gla.s.ses. To_ Auguste) What did you mean before about Robert?

Auguste. You"ll see quick enough.

Frau Heinecke. He won"t grudge us old folks a little good luck, will he?

Michalski. (_Sings_) "_So leben wir, so leben wir!_"

(_The moving of a chair is heard in bedroom._)

Michalski. Ladies and Gentlemen, I drink to Fraulein Alma Heinecke, our lucky-child, and above all, the House that has always shown itself, generous----

Heinecke. The house of Muhlingk! Long live the House of Muhlingk!

Hurrah!

(Robert _appears at the bedroom door._)

All. Hurrah! Hurrah!

Frau Heinecke. (_Startled_) There he is!

(_Embarra.s.sed silence._)

Michalski. Morning, brother-in-law.

Robert. Will you kindly explain, Mother, how these two happen to be sitting at the table of respectable people?

Michalski. Oh!

Heinecke. Don"t be so inhospitable!

Frau Heinecke. (_Going toward him_) Bobby, you mustn"t be proud, specially to your own flesh and blood.

Robert. Hm--Alma, what is that? Who gave you permission----?

Heinecke. And you may as well know now as any time, there"s no use having any hopes about India. I prefer to spend my money in Germany.

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