BEATRICE—And there is no weapon more powerful than will. You understand
me, my child?
ALEXANDRA—I understand, but I don’t know what you want me to do.
BEATRICE—We mean to ask the professor to the ball to-night. You will
invite him.
ALEXANDRA—[_Astonished._] I, mother?
BEATRICE—Yes, you.
ALEXANDRA—The professor?
BEATRICE—Yes. [_There are tears in her eyes._] I know it is a dreadful
thing to ask of you, my child ... but desperate necessity compels me to.
Don’t hate your mother for it, my poor, dear child ... love me, for I
love you so....
ALEXANDRA—[_Calm and self-contained._] Mother!
BEATRICE—[_Dries her eyes._] Must I explain any further? You understand,
don’t you?
ALEXANDRA—I understand you, mother.
BEATRICE—I wanted to send to Vienna for a Duke, but there wasn’t time.
And that wouldn’t have served as well, anyway——
ALEXANDRA—[_Coolly._] As you wish. I shall invite the professor to the
ball to-night.
BEATRICE—But not with that expression.
ALEXANDRA—I know, mother. With another expression.
BEATRICE—And you will promise him that [_bursts into tears_]—that he may
dance a quadrille with you. [_ALEXANDRA is silent._] Well? Why don’t you
speak?
ALEXANDRA—This comes very suddenly, mother.
BEATRICE—But our time is so short! Oh, if we only had more time! Well!
Speak!
ALEXANDRA—Don’t misunderstand me, mother. I only want a moment to get
used to the thought. The professor is a plain farmer’s son.
BEATRICE—Alas!
ALEXANDRA—And when I think that my arm will rest in his.
BEATRICE—You will wear long gloves, my child.
ALEXANDRA—It isn’t touching him that matters, mother ... but the thought
of it.
BEATRICE—He is one of God’s creatures, just as we are.
ALEXANDRA—I’ll try to remember that, mother.
BEATRICE—Do you ask the flowers and the beasts of the field who their
ancestors were?
ALEXANDRA—No, mother.
BEATRICE—[_Reassuringly._] Of course not! You are friendly with horses
and squirrels and all sorts of common animals, aren’t you?
ALEXANDRA—Yes, mother, from that point of view it is a bit easier.
BEATRICE—There, you see, my dear.
ALEXANDRA—But ... there is something else to consider.
BEATRICE—Speak freely. I will guide you.
ALEXANDRA—He is a human being, isn’t he?
BEATRICE—[_Without conviction._] Oh, certainly, certainly.
ALEXANDRA—He is likely to _think_ about it. And that is the great
difference between him and a squirrel.
BEATRICE—That is his affair.
ALEXANDRA—But it is possible that he may misunderstand me.
BEATRICE—You will do nothing that he can possibly misunderstand. My mind
is easy on that score.
ALEXANDRA—Of course not, mother. And yet he can’t help but notice my
sudden change of manner toward him.
BEATRICE—That need give us no concern.
ALEXANDRA—But I must know what I am to do if ... of course ... I only
mentioned it because one ought to think of everything ... if he should
feel attracted to me.
BEATRICE—[_In alarm._] You haven’t noticed anything of the kind?
ALEXANDRA—That must be thought of too.
BEATRICE—Have you ever noticed anything of the kind in him?
ALEXANDRA—[_Coldly._] I never notice what I don’t want to notice.
BEATRICE—That means you have?
ALEXANDRA—I can’t say that, but ... he is not at ease when he speaks to
me. He is not at ease.
BEATRICE—That signifies nothing, my child. Don’t let it concern you. It’s
nothing to be ashamed of. It happens so often. Underlings of all sorts
may be infatuated with a lady of high rank ... officers, even physicians——
ALEXANDRA—But one mustn’t—notice such things.
BEATRICE—Heaven forbid! But then the underling never dares to speak of
his infatuation. Generally he works out his own salvation. Often in a
most noble manner.