_Nato, Chacho, then Salome_.
NATO [_falling sobbing in Chacho's arms_]. O dear, dear aunt.
CHACHO. Stop; don't cry, my dear, my precious child. It is indeed your
father. Stop; stop, Salome.
SALOME [_coming in smiling_]. Dear aunt, I have arranged everything.
[_Stops._] What is this now? Why are you crying?
[_Nato wipes away her tears and goes toward the divan_.
CHACHO. You know her father, don't you? He has been scolding her, and
has made her cry.
SALOME. If her father has been troubling her, then I will make her happy
again. Nato, dear, I have betrothed you. [_Nato looks at her in
wonderment._] Yes, my love, be happy--what have you to say about it? Mr.
Alexander Marmarow is now your betrothed.
NATO. Is it really true, mamma dear?
CHACHO [_at the same time_]. Is it true?
SALOME. It is true, be assured.
NATO [_embracing Salome_]. O my dear, dear mother.
SALOME [_seizing her daughter and kissing her_]. Now I am rid of my
worries about you. I hope it will bring you joy. Go and put on another
dress, for your betrothed is coming.
NATO. Now?
SALOME. Certainly, at once. You know, I presume, that you must make
yourself pretty.
NATO [_happy and speaking quickly_]. Certainly. I will wear the white
barège with blue ribbons, the little cross on black velvet ribbon, and a
blue ribbon in my hair. [_Hugs Chacho_.] O my precious auntie!
CHACHO [_embracing and kissing her_]. May this hour bring you
good-fortune! I wish it for you with all my heart.
NATO [_hugging and kissing Salome again_]. O you dear, you dearest
mamma. [_Runs out of the room_.