home there, poor thing. And with only that new girl too! _She’ll_ never
learn to take proper care of an invalid.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, I shall manage to train her. And of course, you know, I shall take
most of it upon myself. You needn’t be uneasy about my poor sister, my
dear Berta.
BERTA.
Well, but there’s another thing, Miss. I’m so mortally afraid I shan’t
be able to suit the young mistress.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh well—just at first there may be one or two things——
BERTA.
Most like she’ll be terrible grand in her ways.
MISS TESMAN.
Well, you can’t wonder at that—General Gabler’s daughter! Think of the
sort of life she was accustomed to in her father’s time. Don’t you
remember how we used to see her riding down the road along with the
General? In that long black habit—and with feathers in her hat?
BERTA.
Yes indeed—I remember well enough!—But, good Lord, I should never have
dreamt in those days that she and Master George would make a match of
it.
MISS TESMAN.
Nor I.—But by-the-bye, Berta—while I think of it: in future you mustn’t
say Master George. You must say Dr. Tesman.
BERTA.
Yes, the young mistress spoke of that too—last night—the moment they set
foot in the house. Is it true then, Miss?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, indeed it is. Only think, Berta—some foreign university has made
him a doctor—while he has been abroad, you understand. I hadn’t heard a
word about it, until he told me himself upon the pier.
BERTA.
Well well, he’s clever enough for anything, he is. But I didn’t think
he’d have gone in for doctoring people too.
MISS TESMAN.
No no, it’s not that sort of doctor he is. [_Nods significantly._] But
let me tell you, we may have to call him something still grander before
long.
BERTA.
You don’t say so! What can _that_ be, Miss?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Smiling._] H’m—wouldn’t you like to know! [_With emotion._] Ah, dear
dear—if my poor brother could only look up from his grave now, and see
what his little boy has grown into! [_Looks around._] But bless me,
Berta—why have you done _this_? Taken the chintz covers off all the
furniture?
BERTA.
The mistress told me to. She can’t abide covers on the chairs, she says.
MISS TESMAN.
Are they going to make this their everyday sitting-room then?
BERTA.
Yes, that’s what I understood—from the mistress. Master George—the
doctor—he said nothing.
_GEORGE TESMAN comes from the right into the inner room, humming to
himself, and carrying an unstrapped empty portmanteau. He is a
middle-sized, young-looking man of thirty-three, rather stout, with
a round, open, cheerful face, fair hair and beard. He wears
spectacles, and is somewhat carelessly dressed in comfortable indoor
clothes._
MISS TESMAN.
Good morning, good morning, George.
TESMAN.
[_In the doorway between the rooms._] Aunt Julia! Dear Aunt Julia!
[_Goes up to her and shakes hands warmly._] Come all this way—so early!
Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Why, of course I had to come and see how you were getting on.
TESMAN.
In spite of your having had no proper night’s rest?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, that makes no difference to me.
TESMAN.
Well, I suppose you got home all right from the pier? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, quite safely, thank goodness. Judge Brack was good enough to see me
right to my door.
TESMAN.
We were so sorry we couldn’t give you a seat in the carriage. But you
saw what a pile of boxes Hedda had to bring with her.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, she had certainly plenty of boxes.
BERTA.
[_To TESMAN._] Shall I go in and see if there’s anything I can do for
the mistress?
TESMAN.
No thank you, Berta—you needn’t. She said she would ring if she wanted
anything.
BERTA.
[_Going towards the right._] Very well.
TESMAN.
But look here—take this portmanteau with you.
BERTA.
[_Taking it._] I’ll put it in the attic.
[_She goes out by the hall door._
TESMAN.
Fancy, Auntie—I had the whole of that portmanteau chock full of copies
of documents. You wouldn’t believe how much I have picked up from all
the archives I have been examining—curious old details that no one has
had any idea of——
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, you don’t seem to have wasted your time on your wedding trip,
George.
TESMAN.
No, that I haven’t. But do take off your bonnet, Auntie. Look here! Let
me untie the strings—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
[_While he does so._] Well well—this is just as if you were still at
home with us.
TESMAN.
[_With the bonnet in his hand, looks at it from all sides._] Why, what a
gorgeous bonnet you’ve been investing in!
MISS TESMAN.
I bought it on Hedda’s account.
TESMAN.
On Hedda’s account? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, so that Hedda needn’t be ashamed of me if we happened to go out
together.
TESMAN.
[_Patting her cheek._] You always think of everything, Aunt Julia.
[_Lays the bonnet on a chair beside the table._] And now, look
here—suppose we sit comfortably on the sofa and have a little chat, till
Hedda comes.
[_They seat themselves. She places her parasol in the corner of the
sofa._
MISS TESMAN.
[_Takes both his hands and looks at him._] What a delight it is to have
you again, as large as life, before my very eyes, George! My George—my
poor brother’s own boy!
TESMAN.
And it’s a delight for me, too, to see you again, Aunt Julia! You, who
have been father and mother in one to me.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, I know you will always keep a place in your heart for your old
aunts.
TESMAN.
And what about Aunt Rina? No improvement—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh no—we can scarcely look for any improvement in her case, poor thing.
There she lies, helpless, as she has lain for all these years. But
heaven grant I may not lose her yet awhile! For if I did, I don’t know
what I should make of my life, George—especially now that I haven’t you
to look after any more.
TESMAN.
[_Patting her back._] There there there——!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Suddenly changing her tone._] And to think that here are you a married
man, George!—And that _you_ should be the one to carry off Hedda
Gabler—the beautiful Hedda Gabler! Only think of it—she, that was so
beset with admirers!
TESMAN.
[_Hums a little and smiles complacently._] Yes, I fancy I have several
good friends about town who would like to stand in my shoes—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
And then this fine long wedding-tour you have had! More than five—nearly
six months——
TESMAN.
Well, for me it has been a sort of tour of research as well. I have had
to do so much grubbing among old records—and to read no end of books
too, Auntie.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, I suppose so. [_More confidentially, and lowering her voice a
little._] But listen now, George,—have you nothing—nothing special to
tell me?
TESMAN.
As to our journey?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes.
TESMAN.
No, I don’t know of anything except what I have told you in my letters.
I had a doctor’s degree conferred on me—but that I told you yesterday.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, yes, you did. But what I mean is—haven’t you
any—any—expectations——?
TESMAN.
Expectations?
MISS TESMAN.
Why you know, George—I’m your old auntie!
TESMAN.
Why, of course I have expectations.
MISS TESMAN.
Ah!
TESMAN.
I have every expectation of being a professor one of these days.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, a professor——
TESMAN.
Indeed, I may say I am certain of it. But my dear Auntie—you know all
about that already!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Laughing to herself._] Yes, of course I do. You are quite right there.
[_Changing the subject._] But we were talking about your journey. It
must have cost a great deal of money, George?
TESMAN.
Well, you see—my handsome travelling-scholarship went a good way.
MISS TESMAN.
But I can’t understand how you can have made it go far enough for two.
TESMAN.
No, that’s not so easy to understand—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
And especially travelling with a lady—they tell me that makes it ever so
much more expensive.
TESMAN.
Yes, of course—it makes it a little more expensive. But Hedda _had_ to
have this trip, Auntie! She really _had_ to. Nothing else would have
done.
MISS TESMAN.
No no, I suppose not. A wedding-tour seems to be quite indispensable
nowadays.—But tell me now—have you gone thoroughly over the house yet?
TESMAN.
Yes, you may be sure I have. I have been afoot ever since daylight.
MISS TESMAN.
And what do you think of it all?
TESMAN.
I’m delighted! Quite delighted! Only I can’t think what we are to do
with the two empty rooms between this inner parlour and Hedda’s bedroom.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Laughing._] Oh my dear George, I daresay you may find some use for
them—in the course of time.
TESMAN.
Why of course you are quite right, Aunt Julia! You mean as my library
increases—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, quite so, my dear boy. It was your library I was thinking of.
TESMAN.
I am specially pleased on Hedda’s account. Often and often, before we
were engaged, she said that she would never care to live anywhere but in
Secretary Falk’s villa.[14]
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, it was lucky that this very house should come into the market, just
after you had started.
TESMAN.
Yes, Aunt Julia, the luck was on our side, wasn’t it——eh?
MISS TESMAN.
But the expense, my dear George. You will find it very expensive, all
this.
TESMAN.
[_Looks at her, a little cast down._] Yes, I suppose I shall, Aunt!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, frightfully!
TESMAN.
How much do you think? In round numbers?—Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, I can’t even guess until all the accounts come in.
TESMAN.
Well, fortunately, Judge Brack has secured the most favourable terms for
me,—so he said in a letter to Hedda.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, don’t be uneasy, my dear boy.—Besides, I have given security for
the furniture and all the carpets.
TESMAN.
Security? You? My dear Aunt Julia—what sort of security could _you_
give?
MISS TESMAN.
I have given a mortgage on our annuity.
TESMAN.
[_Jumps up._] What! On your—and Aunt Rina’s annuity!
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, I knew of no other plan, you see.
TESMAN.
[_Placing himself before her._] Have you gone out of your senses,
Auntie! Your annuity—it’s all that you and Aunt Rina have to live upon.
MISS TESMAN.
Well well—don’t get so excited about it. It’s only a matter of form you
know—Judge Brack assured me of that. It was he that was kind enough to
arrange the whole affair for me. A mere matter of form, he said.
TESMAN.
Yes, that may be all very well. But nevertheless——
MISS TESMAN.
You will have your own salary to depend upon now. And, good heavens,
even if we did have to pay up a little——! To eke things out a bit at the
start——! Why, it would be nothing but a pleasure to us.
TESMAN.
Oh Auntie—will you never be tired of making sacrifices for me!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Rises and lays her hand on his shoulders._] Have I any other happiness
in this world except to smooth your way for you, my dear boy? You, who
have had neither father nor mother to depend on. And now we have reached
the goal, George! Things have looked black enough for us, sometimes;
but, thank heaven, now you have nothing to fear.
TESMAN.
Yes, it is really marvellous how everything has turned out for the best.
MISS TESMAN.
And the people who opposed you—who wanted to bar the way for you—now you
have them at your feet. They have fallen, George. Your most dangerous
rival—his fall was the worst.—And now he has to lie on the bed he has
made for himself—poor misguided creature.
TESMAN.
Have you heard anything of Eilert? Since I went away, I mean.
MISS TESMAN.
Only that he is said to have published a new book.
TESMAN.
What! Eilert Lövborg! Recently—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, so they say. Heaven knows whether it can be worth anything! Ah,
when _your_ new book appears—that will be another story, George! What is
it to be about?
TESMAN.
It will deal with the domestic industries of Brabant during the Middle
Ages.
MISS TESMAN.
Fancy—to be able to write on such a subject as that!
TESMAN.
However, it may be some time before the book is ready. I have all these
collections to arrange first, you see.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, collecting and arranging—no one can beat you at that. There you are
my poor brother’s own son.
TESMAN.
I am looking forward eagerly to setting to work at it; especially now
that I have my own delightful home to work in.
MISS TESMAN.
And, most of all, now that you have got the wife of your heart, my dear
George.
TESMAN.
[_Embracing her._] Oh yes, yes, Aunt Julia! Hedda—she is the best part
of it all! [_Looks towards the doorway._] I believe I hear her
coming—eh?
_HEDDA enters from the left through the inner room. She is a woman of
nine-and-twenty. Her face and figure show refinement and
distinction. Her complexion is pale and opaque. Her steel-grey eyes
express a cold, unruffled repose. Her hair is of an agreeable medium
brown, but not particularly abundant. She is dressed in a tasteful,
somewhat loose-fitting morning gown._
MISS TESMAN.
[_Going to meet HEDDA._] Good morning, my dear Hedda! Good morning, and
a hearty welcome!
HEDDA.
[_Holds out her hand._] Good morning, dear Miss Tesman! So early a call!
That is kind of you.
MISS TESMAN.
[_With some embarrassment._] Well—has the bride slept well in her new
home?
HEDDA.
Oh yes, thanks. Passably.
TESMAN.
[_Laughing._] Passably! Come, that’s good, Hedda! You were sleeping like
a stone when I got up.
HEDDA.
Fortunately. Of course one has always to accustom one’s self to new
surroundings, Miss Tesman—little by little. [LOOKING TOWARDS THE LEFT.]
Oh—there the servant has gone and opened the veranda door, and let in a
whole flood of sunshine.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Going towards the door._] Well, then we will shut it.
HEDDA.
No no, not that! Tesman, please draw the curtains. That will give a
softer light.
TESMAN.
[_At the door._] All right—all right.—There now, Hedda, now you have
both shade and fresh air.
HEDDA.
Yes, fresh air we certainly must have, with all these stacks of
flowers——. But—won’t you sit down, Miss Tesman?
MISS TESMAN.
No, thank you. Now that I have seen that everything is all right
here—thank heaven!—I must be getting home again. My sister is lying
longing for me, poor thing.
TESMAN.
Give her my very best love, Auntie; and say I shall look in and see her
later in the day.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, yes, I’ll be sure to tell her. But by-the-bye, George—[_Feeling in
her dress pocket_]—I had almost forgotten—I have something for you here.
TESMAN.
What is it, Auntie? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Produces a flat parcel wrapped in newspaper and hands it to him._]
Look here, my dear boy.
TESMAN.
[_Opening the parcel._] Well, I declare!—Have you really saved them for
me, Aunt Julia! Hedda! isn’t this touching—eh?
HEDDA.
[_Beside the whatnot on the right._] Well, what is it?
TESMAN.
My old morning-shoes! My slippers.
HEDDA.
Indeed. I remember you often spoke of them while we were abroad.
TESMAN.
Yes, I missed them terribly. [_Goes up to her._] Now you shall see them,
Hedda!
HEDDA.
[_Going towards the stove._] Thanks, I really don’t care about it.
TESMAN.
[_Following her._] Only think—ill as she was, Aunt Rina embroidered
these for me. Oh you can’t think how many associations cling to them.
HEDDA.
[_At the table._] Scarcely for me.
MISS TESMAN.
Of course not for Hedda, George.
TESMAN.
Well, but now that she belongs to the family, I thought——
HEDDA.
[_Interrupting._] We shall never get on with this servant, Tesman.
MISS TESMAN.
Not get on with Berta?
TESMAN.
Why, dear, what puts _that_ in your head? Eh?
HEDDA.
[_Pointing._] Look there! She has left her old bonnet lying about on a
chair.
TESMAN.
[_In consternation, drops the slippers on the floor._] ] Why, Hedda——
HEDDA.
Just fancy, if any one should come in and see it!
TESMAN.
But Hedda—that’s Aunt Julia’s bonnet.
HEDDA.
Is it!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Taking up the bonnet._] Yes, indeed it’s mine. And, what’s more, it’s
not old, Madam Hedda.
HEDDA.
I really did not look closely at it, Miss Tesman.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Trying on the bonnet._] Let me tell you it’s the first time I have
worn it—the very first time.
TESMAN.
And a very nice bonnet it is too—quite a beauty!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, it’s no such great things, George. [_Looks around her._] My
parasol——? Ah, here. [_Takes it._] For this is mine too—[_mutters_]—not
Berta’s.
TESMAN.
A new bonnet and a new parasol! Only think, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Very handsome indeed.
TESMAN.
Yes, isn’t it? Eh? But Auntie, take a good look at Hedda before you go!
See how handsome _she_ is!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, my dear boy, there’s nothing new in _that_. Hedda was always lovely.
[_She nods and goes towards the right._
TESMAN.
[_Following._] Yes, but have you noticed what splendid condition she is
in? How she has filled out on the journey?
HEDDA.
[_Crossing the room._] Oh, do be quiet——!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Who has stopped and turned._] Filled out?
TESMAN.
Of course you don’t notice it so much now that she has that dress on.
But I, who can see——
HEDDA.
[_At the glass door, impatiently._] Oh, you can’t see anything.
TESMAN.
It must be the mountain air in the Tyrol——
HEDDA.
[_Curtly, interrupting._] I am exactly as I was when I started.
TESMAN.
So you insist; but I’m quite certain you are not. Don’t you agree with
me, Auntie?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Who has been gazing at her with folded hands._] Hedda is
lovely—lovely—lovely. [_Goes up to her, takes her head between both
hands, draws it downwards, and kisses her hair._] God bless and preserve
Hedda Tesman—for George’s sake.
HEDDA.
_[Gently freeing herself._] Oh—! Let me go.
MISS TESMAN.
[_In quiet emotion._] I shall not let a day pass without coming to see
you.
TESMAN.
No you won’t, will you, Auntie? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Good-bye—good-bye!
[_She goes out by the hall door. TESMAN accompanies her. The door
remains half open. TESMAN can be heard repeating his message to Aunt
Rina and his thanks for the slippers._
[_In the meantime, HEDDA walks about the room, raising her arms and
clenching her hands as if in desperation. Then she flings back the
curtains from the glass door, and stands there looking out._
[_Presently TESMAN returns and closes the door behind him._
TESMAN.
[_Picks up the slippers from the floor._] What are you looking at,
Hedda?
HEDDA.
[_Once more calm and mistress of herself._] I am only looking at the
leaves. They are so yellow—so withered.
TESMAN.
[_Wraps up the slippers and lays them on the table._] Well you see, we
are well into September now.
HEDDA.
[_Again restless._] Yes, to think of it!—Already in—in September.
TESMAN.
Don’t you think Aunt Julia’s manner was strange, dear? Almost solemn?
Can you imagine what was the matter with her? Eh?
HEDDA.
I scarcely know her, you see. Is she not often like that?
TESMAN.
No, not as she was to-day.
HEDDA.
[_Leaving the glass door._] Do you think she was annoyed about the
bonnet?
TESMAN.
Oh, scarcely at all. Perhaps a little, just at the moment——
HEDDA.
But what an idea, to pitch her bonnet about in the drawing-room! No one
does that sort of thing.
TESMAN.
Well you may be sure Aunt Julia won’t do it again.
HEDDA.
In any case, I shall manage to make my peace with her.
TESMAN.
Yes, my dear, good Hedda, if you only would.
HEDDA.
When you call this afternoon, you might invite her to spend the evening
here.
TESMAN.
Yes, that I will. And there’s one thing more you could do that would
delight her heart.
HEDDA.
What is it?
TESMAN.
If you could only prevail on yourself to say _du_[15] to her. For my
sake, Hedda? Eh?
HEDDA.
No no, Tesman—you really mustn’t ask that of me. I have told you so
already. I shall try to call her “Aunt”; and you must be satisfied with
that.
TESMAN.
Well well. Only I think now that you belong to the family, you——
HEDDA.
H’m—I can’t in the least see why——
[_She goes up towards the middle doorway._
TESMAN.
[_After a pause._] Is there anything the matter with you, Hedda? Eh?
HEDDA.
I’m only looking at my old piano. It doesn’t go at all well with all the
other things.
TESMAN.
The first time I draw my salary, we’ll see about exchanging it.
HEDDA.
No, no—no exchanging. I don’t want to part with it. Suppose we put it
there in the inner room, and then get another here in its place. When
it’s convenient, I mean.
TESMAN.
[_A little taken aback._] Yes—of course we could do that.
HEDDA.
[_Takes up the bouquet from the piano._] These flowers were not here
last night when we arrived.
TESMAN.
Aunt Julia must have brought them for you.
HEDDA.
[_Examining the bouquet._] A visiting-card. [_Takes it out and reads_:]
“Shall return later in the day.” Can you guess whose card it is?
TESMAN.
No. Whose? Eh?
HEDDA.
The name is “Mrs. Elvsted.”
TESMAN.
Is it really? Sheriff Elvsted’s wife? Miss Rysing that was.
HEDDA.
Exactly. The girl with the irritating hair, that she was always showing
off. An old flame of yours I’ve been told.
TESMAN.
[_Laughing._] Oh, that didn’t last long; and it was before I knew you,
Hedda. But fancy her being in town!
HEDDA.
It’s odd that she should call upon us. I have scarcely seen her since we
left school.
TESMAN.
I haven’t seen her either for—heaven knows how long. I wonder how she
can endure to live in such an out-of-the way hole—eh?
HEDDA.
[_After a moment’s thought, says suddenly._] Tell me, Tesman—isn’t it
somewhere near there that he—that—Eilert Lövborg is living?
TESMAN.
Yes, he is somewhere in that part of the country.
_BERTA enters by the hall door._
BERTA.
That lady, ma’am, that brought some flowers a little while ago, is here
again. [_Pointing._] The flowers you have in your hand, ma’am.
HEDDA.
Ah, is she? Well, please show her in.
BERTA _opens the door for_ MRS. ELVSTED, _and goes out herself._—MRS.
ELVSTED _is a woman of fragile figure, with pretty, soft features.
Her eyes are light blue, large, round, and somewhat prominent, with
a startled, inquiring expression. Her hair is remarkably light,
almost flaxen, and unusually abundant and wavy. She is a couple of
years younger than_ HEDDA. _She wears a dark visiting dress,
tasteful, but not quite in the latest fashion._
HEDDA.
[_Receives her warmly._] How do you do, my dear Mrs. Elvsted? It’s
delightful to see you again.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[_Nervously, struggling for self-control._] Yes, it’s a very long time
since we met.
TESMAN.
[_Gives her his hand._] And we too—eh?
HEDDA.
Thanks for your lovely flowers——
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, not at all——. I would have come straight here yesterday afternoon;
but I heard that you were away——
TESMAN.
Have you just come to town? Eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
I arrived yesterday, about midday. Oh, I was quite in despair when I
heard that you were not at home.
HEDDA.
In despair! How so?
TESMAN.
Why, my dear Mrs. Rysing—I mean Mrs. Elvsted——
HEDDA.
I hope that you are not in any trouble?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, I am. And I don’t know another living creature here that I can turn
to.
HEDDA.
[_Laying the bouquet on the table._] Come—let us sit here on the sofa——
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I am too restless to sit down.
HEDDA.
Oh no, you’re not. Come here.
[_She draws MRS. ELVSTED down upon the sofa and sits at her
side._
TESMAN.
Well? What is it, Mrs. Elvsted——?
HEDDA.
Has anything particular happened to you at home?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes—and no. Oh—I am so anxious you should not misunderstand me——
HEDDA.
Then your best plan is to tell us the whole story, Mrs. Elvsted.
TESMAN.
I suppose that’s what you have come for—eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes—of course it is. Well then, I must tell you—if you don’t
already know—that Eilert Lövborg is in town, too.
HEDDA.
Lövborg——!
TESMAN.
What! Has Eilert Lövborg come back? Fancy that, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Well well—I hear it.
MRS. ELVSTED.
He has been here a week already. Just fancy—a whole week! In this
terrible town, alone! With so many temptations on all sides.
HEDDA.
But, my dear Mrs. Elvsted—how does he concern you so much?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[_Looks at her with a startled air, and says rapidly._] He was the
children’s tutor.
HEDDA.
Your children’s?
MRS. ELVSTED.
My husband’s. I have none.
HEDDA.
Your step-children’s, then?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes.
TESMAN.
[_Somewhat hesitatingly._] Then was he—I don’t know how to express
it—was he—regular enough in his habits to be fit for the post? Eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
For the last two years his conduct has been irreproachable.
TESMAN.
Has it indeed? Fancy that, Hedda!
HEDDA.
I hear it.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Perfectly irreproachable, I assure you! In every respect. But all the
same—now that I know he is here—in this great town—and with a large sum
of money in his hands—I can’t help being in mortal fear for him.
TESMAN.
Why did he not remain where he was? With you and your husband? Eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
After his book was published he was too restless and unsettled to remain
with us.
TESMAN.
Yes, by-the-bye, Aunt Julia told me he had published a new book.
MRS. ELVSTED.