(SCENE.—In the garden of TJAELDE'S new home, on the shore of the fjord, three years later. A view of tranquil sunlit sea, dotted with boats, in the background. On the left a portion of the house is seen, with an open window within which VALBORG is seen writing at a desk. The garden is shaded with birch trees; flower-beds run round the house, and the whole atmosphere one of modest comfort. Two small garden tables and several chairs are in the foreground on the right. A chair standing by itself, further back, has evidently had a recent occupant. When the curtain rises the stage is empty, but VALBORG is visible at the open window. Soon afterwards TJAELDE comes in, wheeling MRS. TJAELDE in an invalid chair.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. Another lovely day!

Tjaelde. Tjaelde. Lovely! There was not a ripple on the sea last night. I saw a couple of steamers far out, and a sailing ship that had hove to, and the fisher-boats drifting silently in.

Mrs. Tjaelde. And think of the storm that was raging two days ago!

Tjaelde. And think of the storm that broke over our lives barely three years ago! I was thinking of that in the night.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Sit down here with me.

Tjaelde. Shall we not continue our stroll?

Mrs. Tjaelde. The sun is too hot.

Tjaelde. Not for me.

Mrs. Tjaelde. You big strong man! It is too hot for me.

Tjaelde (taking a chair). There you are, then.

Mrs. Tjaelde (taking off his hat and wiping his forehead). You are very hot, dear. You have never looked so handsome as you do now!

Tjaelde. That's just as well, as you have so much time to admire me now!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Now that I find getting about so difficult, you mean? Ah, that is only my pretence, so as to get you to wheel me about!

Tjaelde (with a sigh). Ah, my dear, it is good of you to take it so cheerfully. But that you should be the only one of us to bear such hard traces of our misfortune—

Mrs. Tjaelde (interrupting him). Do you forget your own whitened hair? That is a sign of it, too, but a beautiful one! And, as for my being an invalid, I thank God every day for it! In the first place I have almost no pain, and then it gives me the opportunity to feel how good you are to me in every way.

Tjaelde. You enjoy your life, then?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, indeed I do—and just as I should wish to.

Tjaelde. Just to be spoiled, and yourself to spoil us?

Valborg (from the window). I have finished the accounts, father.

Tjaelde. Doesn't it come out at about what I said?

Valborg. Almost exactly. Shall I enter it in the ledger at once?

Tjaelde. Oho! You are glad then, as you seem in such it hurry?

Valborg. Certainly! Such a good stroke of business!

Tjaelde. And both you and Sannaes tried your best to dissuade me from it!

Valborg. Such a pair of wiseacres!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Ah, your father is your master, my dear!

Tjaelde. Tjaelde. Oh, it is easy enough to captain a small army that marches on, instead of a big one that is in retreat. (VALBORG goes on with her work.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. And yet it seemed hard enough for us to give it up.

Tjaelde. Yes, yes—oh, yes. I can tell you, I was thinking of that last night. If God had given me what I begged for then, what state should we have been in now? I was thinking of that, too.

Mrs. Tjaelde. It is the fact of the estate being at last wound up that has brought all these thoughts into your mind, dear?

Tjaelde. Yes.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Then I must confess that I, too, have scarcely been able to think of anything else since yesterday, when Sannaes went into town to settle it up. This a red-letter day! Signe is wrestling with a little banquet for us; we shall see what an artist she has become! Here she is!

Tjaelde. I think I will just go and look over Valborg's accounts. (Goes to the window. SIGNE comes out of the house, wearing a cook's apron and carrying a basin.)

Signe. Mother, you must taste my soup! (Offers her a spoonful.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. Clever girl! (Tastes the soup.) Perhaps it would stand a little—. No, it is very good as it is. You are clever!

Signe. Am I not! Will Sannaes be back soon?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Your father says we may expect him any moment.

Tjaelde (at the window, to VALBORG). No, wait a moment. I will come in. (Goes into the house, and is seen within the window beside VALBORG.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. My little Signe, I want to ask you something?

Signe. Do you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. What was in the letter you had yesterday evening?

Signe. Aha, I might have guessed that was it! Nothing, mother.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Nothing that pained you, then?

Signe. I slept like a top all night—so you can judge for yourself.

Mrs. Tjaelde. I am so glad. But, you know, there seems to me something a little forced in the gay way you say that?

Signe. Does there? Well, it was something that I shall always be ashamed of; that is all.

Mrs. Tjaelde. I am thankful to hear it, for—

Signe (interrupting her). That must be Sannaes. I hear wheels. Yes, here he is! He has come too soon; dinner won't be ready for half an hour yet.

Mrs. Tjaelde. That doesn't matter.

Signe. Father, here is Sannaes!

Tjaelde (from within). Good! I will come out! (SIGNE goes into the house as TJAELDE comes out. SANNAES comes in a moment later.)

Tjaelde and Mrs. Tjaelde. Welcome!

Sannaes. Thank you! (Lays down his dust-coat and driving gloves on a chair, and comes forward.)

Tjaelde. Well?

Sannaes. Yes—your bankruptcy is discharged!

Mrs. Tjaelde. And the result was—?

Sannaes. Just about what we expected.

Tjaelde. And, I suppose, just about what Mr. Berent wrote?

Sannaes. Just about, except for one or two inconsiderable trifles. You can see for yourself. (Gives him a bundle of papers.) The high prices that have ruled of late, and good management, have altered the whole situation.

Tjaelde (who has opened the papers and glanced at the totals). A deficit of £12,000.

Sannaes. I made a declaration on your behalf, that you intended to try and repay that sum, but that you should be at liberty to do it in whatever way you found best. And so—

Tjaelde. And so—?

Sannaes.—I proferred on the spot rather more than half the amount you still owed Jakobsen.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Not really? (TJAELDE takes out a pencil and begins making calculations on the margins of the papers.)

Sannaes. There was general satisfaction—and they all sent you their cordial congratulations.

Mrs. Tjaelde. So that, if all goes well—

Tjaelde. Yes, if things go as well with the business as they promise to, Sannaes, in twelve or fourteen years I shall have paid every one in full.

Mrs. Tjaelde. We haven't much longer than that left to live, dear!

Tjaelde. Then we shall die poor. And I shall not complain!

Mrs. Tjaelde. No, indeed! The honourable name you will leave to your children will be well worth it.

Tjaelde. And they will inherit a sound business, which they can go on with if they choose.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Did you hear that, Valborg?

Valborg (from the window). Every word! (SANNAES bows to her.) I must go in and tell Signe! (Moves away from the window.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. What did Jakobsen say?—honest old Jakobsen?

Sannaes. He was very much affected, as you would expect. He will certainly be coming out here to-day.

Tjaelde (looking up from the papers). And Mr. Berent?

Sannaes. He is coming hard on my heels. I was to give you his kind regards and tell you so.

Tjaelde. Splendid! We owe him so much.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, he has been a true friend to us. But, talking of true friends, I have something particular to ask you, Sannaes.

Sannaes. Me, Mrs. Tjaelde?

Mrs. Tjaelde. The maid told me that yesterday, when you went into town, you took the greater part of your belongings with you. Is that so?

Sannaes. Yes, Mrs. Tjaelde.

Tjaelde. What does that mean? (To his wife.) You said nothing about it to me, my dear.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Because I thought it might be a misunderstanding. But now I must ask what was the meaning of it. Are you going away?

Sannaes (fingering a chair, in evident confusion). Yes, Mrs. Tjaelde.

Tjaelde. Where to? You never said anything about it.

Sannaes. No; but I have always considered that I should have finished my task here as soon as the estate was finally wound up.

Tjaelde and Mrs. Tjaelde. You mean to leave us?

Sannaes. Yes.

Tjaelde. But why?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Where do you mean to go?

Sannaes. To my relations in America. I can now, without doing you any harm, withdraw my capital from the business by degrees and transfer it abroad.

Tjaelde. And dissolve our partnership?

Sannaes. You know that at any rate you had decided now to resume the old style of the firm's name.

Tjaelde. That is true; but, Sannaes, what does it all mean? What is your reason?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Are you not happy here, where we are all so attached to you?

Tjaelde. You have quite as good a prospect for the future here as in America.

Mrs. Tjaelde. We held together in evil days; are we not to hold together now that good days have come?

Sannaes. I owe you both so much.

Mrs. Tjaelde. Good heavens, it is we that owe you—

Tjaelde.—more than we can ever repay. (Reproachfully.) Sannaes!

(SIGNE comes in, having taken off her cooking apron.)

Signe. Congratulations! Congratulations! Father mother! (Kisses them both.) Welcome, Sannaes!—But aren't you pleased?—now? (A pause. VALBORG comes in.)

Valborg. What has happened?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Sannaes wants to leave us, my children (A pause.)

Signe. But, Sannaes—!

Tjaelde. Even if you want to go away, why have you never said a single word to us about it before? (To the others.) Or has he spoken to any of you? (MRS. TJAELDE shakes her head.)

Signe. No.

Sannaes. It was because—because—I wanted to be able to go as soon as I had told you. Otherwise it would be too hard to go.

Tjaelde. You must have very serious grounds for it, then! Has anything happened to you to—to make it necessary? (SANNAES does not answer.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. And to make it impossible for you to trust any of us?

Sannaes (shyly). I thought I had better keep it to myself. (A pause.)

Tjaelde. That makes it still more painful for us—to think that you could go about in our little home circle here, where you have shared everything with us, carrying the secret of this intention hidden in your heart.

Sannaes. Do not be hard on me! Believe me, if I could stay, I would; and if I could tell you the reason, I would. (A pause.)

Signe (to her mother, in an undertone). Perhaps he wants to get married?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Would his being here with us make any difference to that? Any one that Sannaes loved would be dear to us.

Tjaelde (going up to SANNAES and putting an arm round his shoulders). Tell one of us, then, if you cannot tell us all. Is it nothing we can help you in?

Sannaes. No.

Tjaelde. But can you judge of that alone? One does not always realise how much some one else's advice, on the experience of an older man, may help one.

Sannaes. Unfortunately it is as I say.

Tjaelde. It must be something very painful, then?

Sannaes. Please—!

Tjaelde. Well, Sannaes, you have quite cast a cloud over to-day's happiness for us. I shall miss you as I have never missed any one.

Mrs. Tjaelde. I cannot imagine the house without Sannaes!

Tjaelde (to his wife). Come, dear, shall we go in again?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes—it is not nice out here any longer. (TJAELDE takes her into the house. SIGNE turns to VALBORG to go in with her, but when she comes close to her she gives a little cry. VALBORG takes her arm, and their eyes meet.)

Signe. Where have my wits been? (She goes into the house, looking back at VALBORG and SANNAES. The latter is giving way to his emotion, but as soon as his eyes fall on VALBORG he recovers himself.)

Valborg (impetuously). Sannaes!

Sannaes. What are your orders, Miss Valborg?

Valborg (turning away from him, then turning back, but avoiding his eyes). Do you really mean to leave us?

Sannaes. Yes, Miss Valborg. (A pause.)

Valborg. So we shall never stand back to back at our desks in the same room again?

Sannaes. No, Miss Valborg.

Valborg. That is a pity; I had become so accustomed to it.

Sannaes. You will easily become accustomed to some one else's—back.

Valborg. Ah, some one else is some one else.

Sannaes. You must excuse me, Miss Valborg; I don't feel in the humour for jesting to-day. (Turn to go.)

Valborg (looking up at him). Is this to be our parting, then? (A pause.)

Sannaes. I thought of taking leave of you all this afternoon.

Valborg (taking a step towards him). But ought not we two to settle our accounts first?

Sannaes (coldly). No, Miss Valborg.

Valborg. Do you feel then that everything between us has been just as it ought?

Sannaes. God knows I don't!

Valborg. But you think I am to blame?—Oh, well, it doesn't matter.

Sannaes. I am quite willing to take the blame. Put anyway, it is all finished with now.

Valborg. But if we were to share the blame? You cannot be quite indifferent as to which of us should take it?

Sannaes. I confess I am not. But, as I said, I do not wish for any settling of accounts between us.

Valborg. But I wish it.

Sannaes. You will have plenty of time to settle it to your own satisfaction.

Valborg. But, if I am in difficulties about it, I cannot do it alone.

Sannaes. I do not think you will find any difficulty.

Valborg. But if I think so?—if I feel myself deeply wronged?

Sannaes. I have told you that I am willing to take all the blame upon myself.

Valborg. No, Sannaes—I don't want charity; I want to be understood. I have a question to ask you.

Sannaes. As you will.

Valborg. How was it that we got on so well for the first year after my father's failure-and even longer? Have you ever thought of that?

Sannaes. Yes. I think it was because we never talked about anything but our work—about business.

Valborg. You were my instructor.

Sannaes. And when you no longer needed an instructor—

Valborg.—we hardly spoke to one another.

Sannaes (softly). No.

Valborg. Well, what could I say or do, when every sign of friendship on my part went unnoticed?

Sannaes. Unnoticed? Oh no, Miss Valborg, I noticed them.

Valborg. That was my punishment, then!

Sannas. God forbid I should do you an injustice. You had a motive which did you credit; you felt compassion for me, and so you could not help acting as you did. But, Miss Valborg, I refuse your compassion.

Valborg. And suppose it were gratitude?

Sannaes (softly). I dreaded that more than anything else! I had had a warning.

Valborg. You must admit, Sannaes, that all this made you very difficult to deal with!

Sannaes. I quite admit that. But, honestly, you must admit that I had good reason to mistrust an interest in me that sprang from mere gratitude. Had circumstances been different, I should only have bored you cruelly; I knew that quite well. And I had no fancy for being an amusement for your idle hours.

Valborg. How you have mistaken me!—If you will think of it, surely you must understand how different a girl, who has been accustomed to travel and society, becomes when she has to stay at home and work because it is her duty. She comes to judge men by an altogether different standard, too. The men that she used to think delightful are very likely to appear small in her eyes when it is a question of the demands life makes on ability or courage or self-sacrifice; while the men she used to laugh at are transformed in her eyes into models of what God meant men to be, when she is brought into close contact with them in her father's office.—Is there anything so surprising in that? (A pause.)

Sannaes. Thank you, at all events, for saying that to me. It has done me good. But you should have said it sooner.

Valborg (emphatically). How could I, when you misjudged everything I did or said? No; it was impossible until mistakes and misunderstandings had driven us so far apart that we could not endure them any longer (Turns away.)

Sannaes. Perhaps you are right. I cannot at once recall all that has happened. If I have been mistaken, I shall by degrees find the knowledge of it a profound comfort.—You must excuse me, Miss Valborg, I have a number of things to see to. (Turns to go.)

Valborg (anxiously). Sannaes, as you admit that you have judged me unjustly, don't you think you ought at least to give me—some satisfaction?

Sannaes. You may be certain, Miss Valborg, that when I am balancing our account you shall not suffer any injustice. But I cannot do it now. All I have to do now is to get ready to go.

Valborg. But you are not ready to go, Sannaes! You have not finished your work here yet! There is what I just spoke of—and something else that dates farther back than that.

Sannaes. You must feel how painful it is for me to prolong this interview. (Turns to go.)

Valborg. But surely you won't go without setting right something that I am going to beg you to?

Sannas. What is that, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. Something that happened a long time ago.

Sannaes. If it is in my power, I will do what you ask.

Valborg. It is.—Ever since that day you have never offered to shake hands with me.

Sannaes. Have you really noticed that? (A pause.)

Valborg (with a smile, turning away). Will you do so now?

Sannaes (stepping nearer to her). Is this more than a mere whim?

Valborg (concealing her emotion). How can you ask such a question now?

Sannaes. Because all this time you have never once asked me to shake hands with you.

Valborg. I wanted you to offer me your hand. (A pause.)

Sannaes. Are you serious for once?

Valborg. I mean it, seriously.

Sannaes (in a happier voice). You really set a value on it?

Valborg. A great value.

Sannaes (going up to her). Here it is, then!

Valborg (turning and taking his hand). I accept the hand you offer me.

Sannaes (turning pale). What do you mean?

Valborg. I mean that for some time past I have known that I should be proud to be the wife of a man who has loved me, and me alone, ever since he was a boy, and has saved my father and us all.

Sannaes. Oh, Miss Valborg!

Valborg. And you wanted to go away, rather than offer me your hand; and that, only because we had accepted help from you—and you did not think we were free agents! That was too much; and, as you would not speak, I had to!

Sannaes (kneeling to her). Miss Valborg!

Valborg. You have the most loyal nature, the most delicate mind, and the warmest heart I have ever known.

Sannaes. This is a thousand times too much!

Valborg. Next to God, I have to thank you that I have become what I am; and I feel that I can offer you a life's devotion such as you would rarely find in this world.

Sannaes. I cannot answer because I scarcely realise what you are saying. But you are saying it because you are sorry for me, now that I have to go away, and feel that you owe me some gratitude. (Takes both her hand in his.) Let me speak! I know the truth better than you, and have thought over it far more than you. You are so immeasurably above me in ability, in education, in manners—and a wife should not be able to look down on her husband. At all events, I am too proud to be willing to be exposed to that. No, what you are feeling now is only the result of your beautiful nature, and the recollection of it will hallow all my life. All the pain and all the happiness I have known have come from you. Your life will be one of self-renunciation; but, God knows there are many such! And my burden will be lightened now, because I shall know that your good wishes will always be with me. (Gets up.) But part we must—and now more than ever! For I could not bear to be near you unless you were mine, and to make you mine would only mean misery for us both after a little while!

Valborg. Sannaes—!

Sannaes (holding her hands and interrupting her). I entreat you not to say anything more! You have too much power over me; do not use it to make me sin! For it would be that—a great sin—to put two honest hearts into a false position, where they would distress one another, even perhaps get to hate one another.

Valborg. But let me—

Sannas (letting go her hands and stepping back). No, you must not tempt me. Life with you would mean perpetual anxiety, for I should never feel equal to what it would demand of me! But now I can part from you comforted. There will be no bitterness in my heart now; and by degrees all my thoughts of the past and of you will turn to sweetness. God bless you! May every good fortune go with you! Good-bye! (Goes quickly towards the house.)

Valborg. Sannaes! (Follows him.) Sannaes! Listen to me! (SANNAES takes up his coat and gloves, and, as he rushes out without looking where he is going, runs full tilt into BERENT who comes in at that moment followed by JAKOBSEN.)

Sannaes. I beg your pardon! (Rushes out to the right.)

Berent. Are you two playing a game of blind man's buff?

Valborg. God knows we are!

Berent. You need not be so emphatic about it! I have had forcible evidence of it. (Rubs his stomach and laughs.)

Valborg. You must excuse me! Father is in there. (Points to the left and goes hurriedly out to the right.)

Berent. We don't seem to be getting a particularly polite reception!

Jakobsen. No, we seem to be rather in the way, Mr. Berent.

Berent (laughing). It looks like it. But what has been going on?

Jakobsen. I don't know. They looked as if they had been fighting, their faces were so flushed.

Berent. They looked upset, you mean?

Jakobsen. Yes, that's it. Ah, here is Mr. Tjaelde! (To himself.) Good Lord, how aged he looks! (Withdraws into the background as BERENT goes forward to greet TJAELDE, who comes in.)

Tjaelde (to BERENT). I am delighted to see you! You are always welcome in our little home—and this year more welcome than ever!

Berent. Because things are going better than ever this year! I congratulate you on your discharge—and also on your determination to pay everything in full!

Tjaelde. Yes, if God wills, I mean to—

Berent. Well, things are going splendidly, aren't they?

Tjaelde. So far, yes.

Berent. You are over the worst of it, now that you have laid the foundations of a new business and laid them solidly.

Tjaelde. One of the things that have given me the greatest encouragement has been the fact that I have won your confidence—and that has gained me the confidence of others.

Berent. I could have done nothing unless you had first of all done everything. But don't let us say any more about it!—Well, the place looks even prettier than it did last year.

Tjaelde. We do a little more to it each year, you know.

Berent. And you are still all together here?

Tjaelde. So far, yes.

Berent. Ah, by the way, I can give you news of your deserter. (TJAELDE looks surprised.) I mean your lieutenant!

Tjaelde. Oh—of him! Have you seen him?

Berent. I was on the same boat coming here. There was a very rich girl on board.

Tjaelde (laughing). Oh, I see!

Berent. All the same, I don't think it came to any thing. It is rather like coming upon a herd of deer when you are stalking; after your first shot, you don't find it so easy to get another; they have grown wary!

Jakobsen (who during this conversation has been screwing up his courage to address TJAELDE). I—I am a pig, I am! I know that!