At last my father appears to have wakened up out of his trance and to have rebelled; then everything was altered to suit his wishes. My mother became ill. I don’t know what the illness was, but she often suffered from seizures, hid herself in the grounds and in the garden, and remained in the open air the whole night. Then came the great fire, which you must have heard about. House, farm buildings and stables all were burnt, and under circumstances, mind you, which gave a suspicion of arson, because the accident happened the day after the expiration of the quarterly payment of the insurance instalment, and the premiums which my father had sent were delayed through the carelessness of the messenger, so that they did not get there in time. [She fills her glass and drinks.]

John. Don’t drink any more.

Julie. Oh, what does it matter? We were without shelter and had to sleep in the carriage. My father didn’t know where he was to get the money to build a house again. Then my mother advised him to approach a friend of her youth for a loan, a tile manufacturer in the neighborhood. Father got the loan, but didn’t have to pay any interest, which made him quite surprised, and then the house was built. [She drinks again.] You know who set fire to the house?

John. My lady your mother.

Julie. Do you know who the tile manufacturer was?

John. Your mother’s lover.

Julie. Do you know whose the money was?

John. Wait a minute. No, that I don’t know.

Julie. My mother’s.

John. The Count’s then?—unless they were living with separate estates?

Julie. They weren’t doing that. My mother had a small fortune, which she didn’t allow my father to handle, and she invested it with—the friend.

John. Who banked it.