and you too, Mr. Aslaksen.
RINGDAL.
We shall have a lot of toasts to drink after dinner!
HEIRE.
Yes; and perhaps an old man may be allowed to put in a claim for the
toast of “Absent Friends.”
LUNDESTAD.
One absent friend will return, Mr. Heire.
HEIRE.
Stensgård?
LUNDESTAD.
Yes; you’ll see, gentlemen! In ten or fifteen years, Stensgård will
either be in Parliament or in the Ministry—perhaps in both at once.[22]
FIELDBO.
In ten or fifteen years? Perhaps; but then he can scarcely stand at the
head of the League of Youth.
HEIRE.
Why not?
FIELDBO.
Why, because by that time his youth will be—questionable.
HEIRE.
Then he can stand at the head of the Questionable League, sir. That’s
what Lundestad means. He says like Napoleon—“It’s the questionable
people that make politicians”; hee-hee!
FIELDBO.
Well, after all is said and done, _our_ League shall last through young
days and questionable days as well; and it shall continue to be the
League of Youth. When Stensgård founded his League, and was carried
shoulder-high amid all the enthusiasm of Independence Day, he
said—“Providence is on the side of the League of Youth.” I think even
Mr. Helle, theologian as he is, will let us apply that saying to
ourselves.
THE CHAMBERLAIN.
I think so too, my friends; for truly we have been groping and stumbling
in darkness; but good angels guided us.
LUNDESTAD.
Oh, for that matter, I think the angels were only middling.
ASLAKSEN.
Yes; that comes of the local situation, Mr. Lundestad.
THE END.
PILLARS OF SOCIETY
(1877)
CHARACTERS.
CONSUL BERNICK.
MRS. BERNICK, _his wife_.
OLAF, _their son, a boy of thirteen_.
MISS BERNICK [MARTHA], _the Consul’s sister_.
JOHAN TÖNNESEN, _Mrs. Bernick’s younger brother_.
MISS HESSEL [LONA], _her elder step-sister_.
HILMAR TÖNNESEN, _Mrs. Bernick’s cousin_.
DOCTOR RÖRLUND, _a schoolmaster_.
RUMMEL, }
VIGELAND, } _Merchants_.
SANDSTAD, }
DINA DORF, _a young girl living in the Consul’s house_.
KRAP, _the Consul’s chief clerk_.
AUNE, _a foreman shipbuilder_.
MRS. RUMMEL.
MRS. POSTMASTER HOLT.
MRS. DOCTOR LYNGE.
MISS RUMMEL.
MISS HOLT.
_Townspeople and others, foreign sailors, steamboat passengers, etc._
_The action takes place in Consul Bernick’s house, in a small Norwegian
seaport._
_Pronunciation of Names_: Rörlund = Rörloond; Dina = Deena; Rummel =
Roomel; Vigeland = Veeghëland; Aune = Ownë; Lynge = Lynghë. The modified
“ö” is pronounced much as in German.
PILLARS OF SOCIETY.
-------
ACT FIRST.
_A spacious garden-room in_ CONSUL BERNICK’S _house. In front, to the
left, a door lends into the Consul’s office; farther back, in the
same wall, a similar door. In the middle of the opposite wall is a
large entrance door. The back wall is almost entirely composed of
plate-glass, with an open doorway leading to a broad flight of
steps,[23] over which a sun-shade is let down. Beyond the steps a
part of the garden can be seen, enclosed by a railing with a
little gate. Beyond the railing, and running parallel with it, is
a street of small, brightly painted wooden houses. It is summer,
and the sun shines warmly. Now and then people pass along the
street: they stop and speak to each other: customers come and go
at the little corner shop, and so forth._
_In the garden-room a number of ladies are gathered round a table. At
the head of the table sits_ MRS. BERNICK. _On her left sit_ MRS.
HOLT _and her daughter; next to them,_ MRS. _and_ MISS RUMMEL.
_On_ MRS. BERNICK’S _right sit_ MRS. LYNGE, MISS BERNICK (MARTHA),
_and_ DINA DORF. _All the ladies are busy sewing. On the table lie
large heaps of half-finished and cut-out linen, and other articles
of clothing. Farther back, at a little table on which are two
flower-pots and a glass of_ eau sucré, _sits_ DOCTOR RÖRLUND,
_reading from a book with gilt edges, a word here and there being
heard by the audience. Out in the garden_ OLAF BERNICK _is running
about, shooting at marks with a crossbow._
_Presently_ AUNE, _the foreman shipbuilder, enters quietly by the door
on the right. The reading ceases for a moment;_ MRS. BERNICK _nods
to him and points to the left-hand door._ AUNE _goes quietly to
the Consul’s door, knocks softly, pauses a moment, then knocks
again._ KRAP, _the Consul’s clerk, opens the door and comes out
with his hat in his hand and papers under his arm._
KRAP.
Oh, it’s you knocking?
AUNE.
The Consul sent for me.
KRAP.
Yes; but he can’t see you just now; he has commissioned me——
AUNE.
You? I’d a deal sooner——
KRAP.
——commissioned me to tell you this: You must stop these Saturday
lectures to the workmen.
AUNE.
Indeed? I sort of thought my free time was my own to——
KRAP.
Not to make the men useless in work-time. Last Saturday you must needs
hold forth about the harm that will be done to the workmen by our
machines and new method of work. What makes you do that?
AUNE.
I do it to support society.
KRAP.
That’s an odd notion! The Consul says you are undermining society.
AUNE.
My “society” is not the Consul’s “society,” Mr. Krap! Seeing as I’m the
foreman of the Industrial Society, I have to——
KRAP.
Your first duty is as foreman of Consul Bernick’s shipyard. Your first
duty is to the society called Bernick & Co., for by it we all
live.—Well, now you know what the Consul wanted to say to you.
AUNE.
The Consul wouldn’t have said it like that, Mr. Krap! But I know well
enough what I’ve got to thank for this. It’s that cursèd American that
has put in for repairs. These people think work can be done here as they
do it over there, and that——
KRAP.
Well, well—I have no time to go into generalities. I have told you the
Consul’s wishes, and that is enough. Now you had better go down to the
yard again; you’re sure to be wanted; I shall be down myself
presently.—I beg your pardon, ladies!
[_He bows, and goes out through the garden and down the street._
AUNE _goes quietly out to the right._ DOCTOR RÖRLUND, _who
during the whole of the foregoing conversation has continued
reading, presently closes the book with a bang._
RÖRLUND.
There, my dear ladies, that is the end.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, what an instructive tale!
MRS. HOLT.
And so moral!
MRS. BERNICK.
Such a book really gives one a great deal to think over.
RÖRLUND.
Yes; it forms a refreshing contrast to what we unhappily see every day,
both in newspapers and magazines. The rouged and gilded exterior
flaunted by the great communities—what does it really conceal?
Hollowness and rottenness, if I may say so. They have no moral
foundation under their feet. In one word—they are whited sepulchres,
these great communities of the modern world.
MRS. HOLT.
Too true! too true!
MRS. RUMMEL.
We have only to look at the crew of the American ship that’s lying here.
RÖRLUND.
Oh, I won’t speak of such scum of humanity. But even in the higher
classes—how do matters stand? Doubt and fermenting unrest on every side;
the soul at war with itself; insecurity in every relation of life. See
how the family is undermined!—how a brazen spirit of subversion is
assailing the most vital truths!
DINA.
[_Without looking up._] But many great things are done there too, are
they not?
RÖRLUND.
Great things——? I don’t understand——
MRS. HOLT.
[_Astonished._] Good heavens, Dina——!
MRS. RUMMEL.
[_At the same time._] Oh, Dina, how can you?
RÖRLUND.
It would scarcely be for our good if such “great things” came into
fashion among us. No; we ought to thank God that our lot is ordered as
it is. A tare, alas! will now and then spring up among the wheat; but we
honestly do our best to weed it out. The great point, ladies, is to keep
society pure—to exclude from it all the questionable elements which an
impatient age would force upon us.
MRS. HOLT.
Ah, there’s more than enough of that sort of thing, unfortunately.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes; last year we only escaped the railway by a hair’s-breadth.
MRS. BERNICK.
Karsten managed to put a stop to that.
RÖRLUND.
Providentially, Mrs. Bernick! You may be sure your husband was an
instrument in a higher hand when he refused to support that scheme.
MRS. BERNICK.
And yet the papers said such horrid things about him! But we are quite
forgetting to thank you, my dear Doctor. It is really more than kind of
you to sacrifice so much of your time to us.
RÖRLUND.
Oh, not at all; in holiday-time, you know——
MRS. BERNICK.
Yes, yes; but it’s a sacrifice, nevertheless.
RÖRLUND.
[_Drawing his chair nearer._] Pray don’t speak of it, dear lady. Do not
all of you make sacrifices for a good cause? And do you not make them
willingly and gladly? The Lapsed and Lost, for whom we are working, are
like wounded soldiers on a battlefield; you, ladies, are the Red Cross
Guild, the Sisters of Mercy, who pick lint for these unhappy sufferers,
tie the bandages gently round the wounds, dress, and heal them——
MRS. BERNICK.
It must be a great blessing to see everything in so beautiful a light.
RÖRLUND.
The gift is largely inborn; but it can in some measure be acquired. The
great point is to see things in the light of a serious vocation. What do
_you_ say, Miss Bernick? Do you not find that you have, as it were,
firmer ground under your feet since you have devoted your life to your
school-work?
MARTHA.
I scarcely know what to say. Often, when I am pent up in the schoolroom,
I wish I were far out upon the stormy sea.
RÖRLUND.
Yes, yes; that is temptation, my dear Miss Bernick. You must bar the
door against such an unquiet guest. The stormy sea—of course you do not
mean that literally; you mean the great billowing world, where so many
go to wreck. And do you really find so much to attract you in the life
you hear rushing and surging outside? Just look out into the street.
Look at the people in the sweltering sunshine, toiling and moiling over
their paltry affairs! Ours, surely, is the better part, sitting here in
the pleasant shade, and turning our backs toward the quarter from which
disturbance might arise.
MARTHA.
Yes, no doubt you are quite right——
RÖRLUND.
And in a house like this—in a good and pure home, where the Family is
seen in its fairest shape—where peace and unity reign——[_To MRS.
BERNICK._] What are you listening to, Mrs. Bernick?
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Who has turned towards the door of the Consul’s room._] How loudly
they are talking in there!
RÖRLUND.
Is anything particular going on?
MRS. BERNICK.
I don’t know. There is evidently some one with my husband.
HILMAR TÖNNESEN, _with a cigar in his mouth, comes in by the door on the
right, but stops on seeing so many ladies._
HILMAR.
Oh, I beg your pardon—— [_Turning to go._
MRS. BERNICK.
Come in, Hilmar, come in; you are not disturbing us. Do you want
anything?
HILMAR.
No, I just happened to be passing. Good-morning, ladies. [_To_ MRS.
BERNICK.] Well, what is going to come of it?
MRS. BERNICK.
Of what?
HILMAR.
You know Bernick has called a cabinet council.
MRS. BERNICK.
Indeed! What is it about?
HILMAR.
Oh, this railway nonsense again.
MRS. RUMMEL.
No! Is it possible?
MRS. BERNICK.
Poor Karsten—is he to have all that worry over again——?
RÖRLUND.
Why, what can be the meaning of this, Mr. Tönnesen? Consul Bernick gave
it plainly to be understood last year that he would have no railway
here.
HILMAR.
Yes, I thought so too; but I met Krap just now, and he told me the
railway question was to the fore again, and that Bernick was holding a
conference with three of our capitalists.
MRS. RUMMEL.
I was certain I heard Rummel’s voice.
HILMAR.
Yes, Mr. Rummel is there, of course, and Sandstad and Michael
Vigeland—“Holy Michael,” as they call him.
RÖRLUND.
H’m——
HILMAR.
I beg your pardon, Doctor.
MRS. BERNICK.
Just when everything was so nice and quiet too!
HILMAR.
Well, for my part, I shouldn’t mind their beginning their bickerings
again. It would be a variety at least.
RÖRLUND.
I think we can dispense with that sort of variety.
HILMAR.
It depends upon one’s constitution. Some natures crave for a Titanic
struggle now and then. But there’s no room for that sort of thing in our
petty provincial life, and it’s not every one that can—— [_Turning over
the leaves of_ RÖRLUND’S _book._] “Woman as the Servant of Society”—what
rubbish is this!
MRS. BERNICK.
Oh, Hilmar, you mustn’t say that. You have surely not read the book.
HILMAR.
No, and don’t intend to.
MRS. BERNICK.
You seem out of sorts to-day.
HILMAR.
Yes, I am.
MRS. BERNICK.
Perhaps you didn’t sleep well last night?
HILMAR.
No, I slept very badly. I went a walk yesterday evening, by my doctor’s
orders. Then I looked in at the club, and read an account of a polar
expedition. There is something bracing in watching men at war with the
elements.
MRS. RUMMEL.
But it doesn’t seem to have agreed with you, Mr. Tönnesen?
HILMAR.
No, it didn’t agree with me at all. I lay tossing all night half asleep,
and dreamt I was being chased by a horrible walrus.
OLAF.
[_Who has come up the garden steps._] Have you been chased by a walrus,
Uncle?
HILMAR.
I dreamt it, little stupid! Do you still go on playing with that
ridiculous bow? Why don’t you get hold of a proper gun?
OLAF.
Oh, I should love to, but——
HILMAR.
There would be some sense in a gun; the very act of pulling the trigger
braces your nerves.
OLAF.
And then I could shoot bears, Uncle. But father won’t let me.
MRS. BERNICK.
You really must not put such ideas into his head, Hilmar.
HILMAR.
Ha—there we have the rising generation nowadays! Goodness knows there’s
plenty of talk about pluck and daring, but it all ends in play; no one
has any real craving for the discipline that lies in looking danger
manfully in the face. Don’t stand and point at me with your bow, stupid;
it might go off,
OLAF.
No, Uncle, there’s no bolt in it.
HILMAR.
How do you know? There may very likely be a bolt in it. Take it away, I
tell you!—Why the deuce have you never gone to America in one of your
father’s ships? There you could go buffalo-hunting or fighting the
redskins.
MRS. BERNICK.
Oh, Hilmar——
OLAF.
I should like to very much, Uncle; and then perhaps I might meet Uncle
Johan and Aunt Lona.
HILMAR.
H’m—don’t talk nonsense.
MRS. BERNICK.
Now you can go down the garden again, Olaf.
OLAF.
Mayn’t I go out into the street, mother?
MRS. BERNICK.
Yes; but take care not to go too far.
[OLAF _runs out through the garden gate._
RÖRLUND.
You ought not to put such notions into the child’s head, Mr. Tönnesen.
HILMAR.
No, of course, he’s to be a mere stick-in-the-mud, like so many others.
RÖRLUND.
Why do you not go to America yourself?
HILMAR.
I? With my complaint? Of course no one here has any consideration for
that. But besides—one has duties towards the society one belongs to.
There must be _some one_ to hold high the banner of the ideal. Ugh,
there he is shouting again!
THE LADIES.
Who is shouting?
HILMAR.
Oh, I don’t know. They are talking rather loud in there, and it makes me
so nervous.
MRS. RUMMEL.
It is my husband you hear, Mr. Tönnesen; you must remember he is so
accustomed to addressing great assemblies——
RÖRLUND.
The others are not whispering either, it seems to me.
HILMAR.
No, sure enough, when it’s a question of keeping the purse-strings
tight——; everything here ends in paltry material calculations. Ugh!
MRS. BERNICK.
At least that is better than it used to be, when everything ended in
dissipation.
MRS. LYNGE.
Were things really so bad as all that?
MRS. RUMMEL.
They were as bad as bad could be, Mrs. Lynge. You may thank your stars
that you didn’t live here then.
MRS. HOLT.
Yes, there has certainly been a great change! When I think of the time
when I was a girl——
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, you needn’t go back more than fourteen or fifteen years—heaven help
us, what a life people led! There was a dancing club and a music club——
MARTHA.
And the dramatic club—I remember it quite well.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes; it was there your play was acted, Mr. Tönnesen.
HILMAR.
[_At the back._] Oh, nonsense——!
RÖRLUND.
Mr. Tönnesen’s play?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes; that was long before you came here, Doctor. Besides, it only ran
one night.
MRS. LYNGE.
Wasn’t it in that play you told me you played the heroine, Mrs. Rummel?
MRS. RUMMEL.
[_Glancing at_ RÖRLUND.] I? I really don’t remember, Mrs. Lynge. But I
remember too well all the noisy gaiety that went on among families.
MRS. HOLT.
Yes; I actually know houses where two great dinner-parties were given in
one week.
MRS. LYNGE.
And then there was a company of strolling actors, they tell me.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, that was the worst of all——!
MRS. HOLT.
[_Uneasily._] H’m, h’m——
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, actors did you say? No, I remember nothing about them.
MRS. LYNGE.
Why, I was told they caused all sorts of trouble. What was it that
really happened?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, nothing at all, Mrs. Lynge.
MRS. HOLT.
Dina, dear, hand me that piece of linen, please.
MRS. BERNICK.
[_At the same time._] Dina, my love, will you go and ask Katrina to
bring in the coffee.
MARTHA.
I will go with you, Dina.
[DINA _and_ MARTHA _go out by the second door on the left._
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Rising._] And you must excuse me for a moment, ladies; I think we had
better take our coffee outside.
[_She goes out to the verandah and begins arranging a table;_
RÖRLUND _stands in the doorway talking to her._ HILMAR _sits
outside smoking._
MRS. RUMMEL.
[_Softly._] Oh dear, Mrs. Lynge, how you frightened me!
MRS. LYNGE.
I?
MRS. HOLT.
Ah, but you began it yourself, Mrs. Rummel.
MRS. RUMMEL.
I? Oh, how can you say so, Mrs. Holt? Not a single word passed my lips.
MRS. LYNGE.
But what is the matter?
MRS. RUMMEL.
How could you begin to talk about——! Only think—didn’t you see that Dina
was in the room?
MRS. LYNGE.
Dina? Why, bless me! what has she to do with——?
MRS. HOLT.
Here, in this house, too! Don’t you know that it was Mrs. Bernick s
brother——?
MRS. LYNGE.
What about him? I know nothing at all; remember I am quite new to the
town——
MRS. RUMMEL.
Then you haven’t heard that——? H’m—— [_To her daughter._] You can go
down the garden for a little while, Hilda.
MRS. HOLT.
You too, Netta. And be sure you are very kind to poor Dina when she
comes.
[MISS RUMMEL _and_ MISS HOLT _go out into the garden._
MRS. LYNGE.
Well, what about Mrs. Bernick’s brother?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Don’t you know, he was the hero of the scandal?
MRS. LYNGE.
Mr. Hilmar the hero of a scandal!
MRS. RUMMEL.
Good heavens, no; Hilmar is her cousin Mrs. Lynge. I am speaking of her
brother——
MRS. HOLT.
The Prodigal Tönnesen——
MRS. RUMMEL.
Johan was his name. He ran away to America.
MRS. HOLT.
_Had_ to run away, you understand.
MRS. LYNGE.
Then the scandal was about _him_?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, it was a sort of—what shall I call it?—a sort of a—with Dina’s
mother. Oh, I remember it as if it were yesterday. Johan Tönnesen was in
old Mrs. Bernick’s office; Karsten Bernick had just come home from
Paris—it was before his engagement——
MRS. LYNGE.
Yes, but the scandal——?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Well, you see, that winter Möller’s comedy company was in the town——
MRS. HOLT.
——and in the company were Dorf and his wife. All the young men were mad
about her.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, heaven knows what they could see in her. But one evening Dorf came
home very late——
MRS. HOLT.
——and quite unexpectedly——
MRS. RUMMEL.
And there he found—no, really I don’t think I can tell you.
MRS. HOLT.
Why, you know, Mrs. Rummel, he found nothing, for the door was locked on
the inside.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes; that’s what I say—he found the door locked. And—only think!—some
one inside had to jump out of the window.
MRS. HOLT.
Right from the attic window!
MRS LYNGE.
And it was Mrs. Bernick’s brother?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Of course it was.
MRS. LYNGE.
And that was _why_ he ran away to America?
MRS. HOLT.
He had to make himself scarce, I can assure you.
MRS. RUMMEL.
For afterwards something else was found out, almost as bad. Only think,
he had been making free with the cash-box——
MRS. HOLT.
But, after all, no one knows exactly about that, Mrs. Rummel; it may
have been mere gossip.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Well, I really must say——! Wasn’t it known over the whole town? For that
matter, wasn’t old Mrs. Bernick on the point of going bankrupt? Rummel
himself has told me that. But heaven forbid _I_ should say anything!
MRS. HOLT.
Well, the money didn’t go to Madam Dorf, at any rate, for she——
MRS. LYNGE.
Yes, what became of Dina’s parents?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, Dorf deserted both wife and child. But Madam was impudent enough to
remain here a whole year. She didn’t dare to show herself in the theatre
again; but she made a living by washing and sewing——
MRS. HOLT.
And she tried to set up a dancing-school.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Of course it was a failure. What parents could trust their children with
such a person? But she could not hold out long; the fine Madam wasn’t
accustomed to work, you see; some chest trouble set in, and carried her
off.
MRS. LYNGE.
What a wretched story!
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, you may believe it has been a terrible thing for the Bernicks. It
is the dark spot on the sun of their happiness, as Rummel once expressed
it. So you must never talk of these things in _this_ house again, Mrs.
Lynge.
MRS. HOLT.
And, for heaven’s sake, don’t mention the step-sister either.
MRS. LYNGE.
Yes, by-the-bye, Mrs. Bernick has a step-sister too?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Used to have—fortunately; for now they don’t recognise the relationship.
Yes, she was a strange being! Would you believe it, she cut her hair
short, and went about in rainy weather with men’s shoes on!
MRS. HOLT.
And when her step-brother—the ne’er-do-well—had run away, and the whole
town was of course crying out against him—what do you think she did?
Why, she followed him.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, but think of the scandal before she left, Mrs. Holt!
MRS. HOLT.
Hush—don’t talk about it.
MRS. LYNGE.
What, was there a scandal about her too?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, I’ll tell you all about it, Mrs. Lynge. Bernick had just proposed
to Betty Tönnesen; and as he was coming, with her on his arm, into her
aunt’s room to announce the engagement to her——
MRS. HOLT.
The Tönnesens were orphans, you understand.
MRS. RUMMEL.
——Lona Hessel rose from her chair, and gave the handsome, aristocratic
Karsten Bernick a ringing box on the ear!
MRS. LYNGE.
Well, I never——!
MRS. HOLT.
Yes, every one knows it.
MRS. RUMMEL.
And then she packed up her traps and went off to America.
MRS. LYNGE.
She must have had designs upon him herself.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, that was just it. She imagined he was going to propose to her as
soon as he came home from Paris.
MRS. HOLT.
Just fancy her dreaming of such a thing! Bernick—a polished young
man-of-the-world—a perfect gentleman—the darling of all the ladies——
MRS. RUMMEL.
——and so high-principled, too, Mrs. Holt—so moral.
MRS. LYNGE.
Then what has become of this Miss Hessel in America?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Well—over that, as Rummel once expressed it, there rests a veil which
should scarcely be lifted.
MRS. LYNGE.
What does that mean?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Of course the family hears nothing from her now; but every one in town
knows that she has sung for money in taverns over there——
MRS. HOLT.
——and has given lectures——
MRS. RUMMEL.
——and has published an utterly crazy book.
MRS. LYNGE.
Is it possible——?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, Lona Hessel, too, is certainly a sun-spot in the Bernicks’
happiness. But now you know the whole story, Mrs. Lynge. Heaven knows, I
have only told it to put you on your guard as to what you say.
MRS. LYNGE.
You may be quite easy on that point. But poor Dina Dorf! I really feel
very sorry for her.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, for her it was an absolute stroke of luck. Only think, if she had
remained in her parents’ hands! Of course we all took an interest in
her, and tried to instil good principles into her mind. At last Miss
Bernick arranged that she should come and live here.
MRS. HOLT.
But she has always been a difficult girl to deal with—the effect of bad
example, you know. Of course she is not like one of our own children—we
have to make the best of her, Mrs. Lynge.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Hush, there she comes. [_Loud._] Yes, as you say, Dina is really quite a
clever girl——What, are you there, Dina? We are just finishing our work
here.
MRS. HOLT.
Ah, how nice your coffee smells, my dear Dina. Such a cup of coffee in
the forenoon——
MRS. BERNICK.
[_In the verandah._] The coffee is ready, ladies.
[MARTHA _and_ DINA _have meanwhile helped the servant to bring
in the coffee things. All the ladies go out and sit down;
they vie with each other in talking kindly to_ DINA. _After
a time she comes into the room and looks for her sewing._
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Out at the coffee-table._] Dina, don’t you want——?
DINA.
No, thanks; I don’t care for any.