The forenoon of the following day. The gloomy light of a winter day comes in through the wide windows at the background of the hall, as on the day before. Outside, white bushes and trees loom up vaguely. A dark velvet cover is spread over the sofa table now. A fire again biases in the fireplace.

In front of it on the left sits Glyszinski with his feet toward the fire and a book in his hand. He is again faultlessly clad in a black suit; looks pale. At his right, in the center chair Hella reposes comfortably. She likewise holds a book and looks as if she had been reading. As on the previous day, her dress is dark, but not black.

Hella. These awful visits of condolence all day yesterday! If calls of that kind continue today, I'll simply lock myself in and fail to appear. Let Paul settle it as he may.

Glyszinski. And yet! How easily and graciously you can dispose of the good people. I can't get over my astonishment.

Hella. Yes and then to feign a sadness that one does not remotely feel, cannot feel! What an idea!

Glyszinski (after a moment of reflection, whispering). Do you know what makes me glad?

Hella (curtly). No, possibly you will tell me.

Glyszinski (halts a bit). That the dead man is out of the house!... I suppose they took him to the church?

Hella. Yes, quite early this morning. The coffin is to be there till tomorrow. I suppose you were afraid?

Glyszinski, Why you know that I sometimes see things.

Hella. You modern creature, you! Look at me! I try to see things by daylight. I can battle with them! Not with the other kind.

Glyszinski. Oh you don't realize how I have envied you for that.

Hella. Why don't you follow my example then? Do not lose yourself deeper and deeper in your riddles. Enter the conflict! Just as I do!

Glyszinski. You, Hella ...! I cannot vie with you.

Hella. Don't be a weakling! Try it! You are old enough.

Glyszinski (grumbling). Too old.

Hella (more and more impassioned). Too old! Ridiculous. When Paul was of your age he was already in the fray, founding our Women's Rights. And I, I helped him.

Glyszinski. You must have been of firmer fiber than we of the younger generation.

Hella (gets up, stands up straight, folds her hands over her head). Possibly! I was scarcely twenty at the time, but I felt strong enough to throw down the gauntlet to the whole world, when it was a question of my rights. I had an uncontrollable thirst for freedom, and it is not too much to assert that I gave Paul the incentive for all that followed.

Glyszinski. That's just like you, Hella! I suppose he would simply have remained in his old trot if it had not been for you.

Hella (supporting herself on the chair). I should not go that far. He had already freed himself, but did not know in what direction to move. He was still groping. He might have followed an utterly wrong course, might have fooled away his time with literature and impractical things like that. His rescue from all that was my work. I guided him! You know he was a pupil of my father. When we became acquainted, I had no difficulty in showering things upon him. You see I had spent my whole childhood in this intellectual atmosphere. And he ... well, you can see from where he had come. (She sweeps her hand around.) That is just why I was ahead of him.

Glyszinski (lamenting). Why was I not born ten years earlier? Then I should have found what he now has and fails to value!

Hella (walks through the hall slowly, engrossed in memories). Yes it was a joyous time! All of us young, vigorous and certain of victory! (Her manner becomes gloomy.)

Glyszinski (has followed her with his eyes). Are you so no longer, Hella?

Hella (morosely). I?... (Collects herself.) More than ever ... But I have become tired, Doctor!

Glyszinski (subdued). I do suppose it requires more than mortal strength to hold out, in this fashion, a whole life long.

Hella (straightening up). Yes, if one did not know that he is going to prevail, that he will carry out his demands; one can rest assured only when he has the better arguments in his favor. Not until then. (She steps to the background in great excitement.)

Glyszinski (jumps up). Hella! Hella!...

Hella (comes back again). Not an hour before that, I tell you. Do you understand the terrible aspect of my present position now? My nails fairly tingle. Whenever I hear the clock strike out there, something seems to drive me away. Another hour gone, and life is so short. It cries within me, go to your post, and I am forced to remain! I must remain on account of Paul!

Glyszinski (strikes his fist on the chair). Oh he doesn't deserve to have you sacrifice yourself for him! If you called me in this manner ... I should follow you to the scaffold!

Hella (approaches him, in a changed manner). What was your impression of Paul today, Doctor? Be frank!

Glyszinski (gloomily). Why do you ask me about that? I scarcely caught sight of him before he rode away.

Hella. It seemed to me that he was more cheerful, freer. (To herself.) Possibly because the body was out of the house. (She turns away again.)

[Glyszinski steps to the background, shaking his head, seems in a quandary.]

Hella (has paid no attention to him, since her thoughts completely dominate her, speaks as if to herself). May be all will turn out for the best after all. (She gains control of herself and looks up.) Where in the world are you, Doctor? (She approaches him.)

Glyszinski (stands at the window and looks into the garden). I am watching the snow.

Hella. I suppose you are surprised that I am hopeful again?

Glyszinski. Since I have been in your company nothing surprises me!

Hella (continues). But Paul must listen to reason. My position is clearly correct. You do not know him as I do. Paul is tender-hearted; all that is necessary is to know how to deal with him. (She reflects a moment and concludes.) Possibly I did not always know how to do that.

Glyszinski (deprecatingly). Don't belittle yourself, Hella!

Hella. And there shall be a change. But first of all he must get away from here. Of course we shall have to wait till after the funeral. But then I shall not allow myself to be kept here any longer. I'll get in and ride away and Paul will be forced to come along. When I once have him in Berlin again ...

Glyszinski. And the estate?

Hella. I'll simply sell that.

Glyszinski (rushes up to her with flaming eyes). Hella!

Hella (coldly). Well?

Glyszinski. Are you going to leave Paul?

Hella. How so? What is the matter with you?

Glyszinski (seizes her hand). Can't you leave Paul! My life is at stake.

Hella. Dear friend, don't stake your life so foolishly! And release my hand. I do not want to leave Paul! I haven't the slightest reason to do so. We agree very well.

Glyszinski (drops his head). Then I was mistaken, after all.

Hella. Yes, it seems so to me also. You simply do not know what Paul has been to me. [Pause.] I want to go to work, I still have much to do. The editorial work is crowding. (Takes several steps.)

Paul (enters from the right, clad in a riding suit and riding boots, shakes of the snow and waves his hat vigorously as he speaks). Good morning, you stay-at-homes! Just see how I look.

Hella (has turned around at his approach and looks at him). You are bringing winter in with you, Paul.

Paul (with dash). That's what I'm doing. I'm bringing winter in with me. Regular country winter, with ice and snow, such as the city knows only by hearsay. Don't you envy me?

Hella (surprised). How so? For what?

Paul. For what, she asks! Why for all the snow in which I have been stamping about! For this honest winter mood, that I have not had for so many years!

Hella. Where in the world have you been!

Paul (sits down, facing the fire, and crosses his legs). Far, far away, I can tell you.

[Glyszinski has risen from his chair and has slowly walked over toward the left, where he sits down on the sofa and pretends to become interested in a book.]

Hella. One can tell that. You are in a beautiful condition.

Paul (stares into the fire, spinning away at his thoughts). I rode a great, great distance!... To the border of our possessions!

Hella. Is that so very far?

Paul. Very far!... At least it seemed so to me when I was a child.

Hella. Yes, of course, to a child everything seems larger.

Paul. But this time it was no delusion! It was really quite a distance. And I did remain away long enough too.

Hella (sarcastically). Are you not boasting, Paul? I believe you were riding around in a circle.

Paul (waking up). And so I did. Criss cross over the fields, taking ditches, helter skelter as it were, right through the dense snow.

Hella (as before). Can you really ride, Paul?

Paul. I? Well, I should say! I supposed I had forgotten how, during all of these empty years, but when I had mounted, for a moment I was unsteady, but only for a moment, then I felt my old power. The bay realized that I still know how, and off we were like destruction itself.

Glyszinski (from the sofa). I should like to try it myself sometime.

Paul (without heeding him). And curiously enough Hella, strange as the way had naturally become to me, I nevertheless got along easily. After all, one does not forget the things with which one has once been familiar, and, you see, my father took me with him often enough in my boyhood. (Smiling.) Possibly in order that, some day in the future, I might get my bearings in the old fields! At last I got into the forest and when I was out of that, I saw the houses of Klonowken, all covered with snow ...

Hella (has listened very attentively, interrupts). Klonowken, you say! Isn't that the estate where—what is his name?—your relative lives?

Paul. Laskowski, you mean?

Hella. Quite right, Laskowski ... But you did not call on him, did you?

Paul. No, then I came back.

Hella. The ride has certainly agreed with you. Your color is much better than yesterday.

Paul (joyously). Is it?... Well that is just the way I feel.

Hella. Then you can see more clearly today, what you wish to do and what is necessary?

Paul. Much more clearly, Hella! As I trotted along in the snowstorm, many things dawned upon me. My head has became clear, Hella.

Hella. I am glad for you and both of us!

Paul (seizes her hand). Yes, for both of us. We must come to an agreement, Hella!

Hella (cautiously). I hope we are agreed. And, moreover, you know how we can remain so!

Paul (thoughtful again). Well, as I rode along, strange! So many years of desk work, I thought to myself, and nothing but desk work. My bones have almost become stiff as a result and, after all, what has come of it? Little enough! You surely must admit that.

Hella (seriously). I can not admit that, Paul.

Paul. But we do live in a continual turmoil, Hella, in an everlasting struggle the outcome of which we can not foresee and from which we shall reap no rewards. We are working for strangers, are sacrificing our best years and have forgotten to consider ourselves. Do you suppose they will thank us some day when we are down and out? Not a soul!

Hella. Nor do I demand gratitude and recognition. I do what I have recognized to be correct; that constitutes my happiness.

Paul. But not mine. I want more, Hella! I am at an age when fine words no longer avail me. And see, here is a world in which I have what I need, what I am seeking, here at last I can follow myself up, can see what is really in me and not what has merely been imposed upon me. I am on the crest of my life, Hella. Possibly past it. Do not take it amiss! I need rest, composure ...

Hella (reserved). And for that you are going to the end of the world?

Paul. I had got to the end of the world! Now I shall begin all over again. Would the attempt not be worth while? Tell me, comrade! (He seizes both of Hella's hands and looks squarely into her eyes.)

Hella (reserved). I can't answer you now, Paul.

Paul (visibly relieved). Very well! If you can not at present ... There is plenty of time.

Hella. Isn't there? You will give me time. I should like to put it off only a few days longer.

Paul (joyously). Why as long as you please. Till then I shall be assured of you and meanwhile you will get acclimated?

Hella. Only a few days, Paul. Possibly I can make a definite proposition to you by that time.

Paul (shakes her hands again, happy). Hella, my clever, unusual Hella! (He puts his arms around her waist, about to kiss her.)

Hella (with quick resistance). What are you doing, Paul! Don't you see how wet you are?

Paul. Snow-water! Clear snow-water. What harm will that do! Give me a kiss, Hella!

Hella (reluctantly). You do have notions at times!... So here is your kiss! (Extends her cheek to him.)

Paul (embraces her.) Oh, no! Today I must have something unusual! (He tries to kiss her mouth.)

Hella (warding him off). Do stop that, Paul! I beg you urgently!

Paul (looks into her eyes). But why not, Hella! Just for today ...! (His voice is soft and pleading.)

Hella (with her face toward the sofa). Why Glyszinski is sitting there.

Paul (impatiently). What is Glyszinski to me? It's surely all right for a husband and wife to kiss each other.

Hella. But not before strangers! I can't bear that, Paul!

Paul (bitterly). Calm down! It never happens anyhow! (He releases her and walks through the hall with great strides).

Hella (shrugging her shoulders). Because it is really not proper for two people who are as old as we have become. People should become sensible sometime.

Paul (with increasing excitement). You always were! Why, I don't know you any other way.

Hella. You must have liked it well enough.

Paul (bursting out). Yes I probably did ...! At that time! Because I was a fool!

Hella (picks up her book again, turns as if to go away). Now you are becoming abusive! Good-by, I have work to do!

Paul (intercepts her). Hella! I am coming to you with an overflowing heart! I have a yearning to be alone with you, once, only once; I am almost desperate for a heart to heart talk ...

Glyszinski (who has silently followed the scene from the sofa, presumably engrossed in his book, but at times has cast over a furtive glance, makes a motion as if to rise). If I'm disturbing you, you only need to say so ...

Hella. Do not be funny, doctor. You do know that I wanted to go to my room some time ago. Please let me pass, Paul!

Paul (has retreated, with an angry bow). You have plenty of room! (Across to Glyszinski) Hella is quite right. There is no longer any occasion for you to go. (He goes to the fireplace and sits down facing the fire.)

Hella (remains in the centre of the hall a few moments longer, then takes a step in the direction of Paul, and speaks in a changed, gentler voice). Paul! (Paul does not stir).

Hella (urgently). Paul!

Paul. That's all right!

Hella. Oh, is it! Very well! (She turns away abruptly, goes over toward the right, opens the door and turns around, saying curtly). I wish to work, so please do not disturb me. (She goes out.)

Paul (has become restless, gets up and calls). Hella! (One can hear how the door is being locked on the other side.) As you please, then! (He sits down again).

Glyszinski (looking up from his book). Hella has locked the door.

[Paul sets his teeth and is silent. Pause.]

Glyszinski. Am I disturbing you?

Paul (without turning around). I have already told you, no! Not any longer, now!

Glyszinski. So I have been disturbing you?

Paul. I'll leave that to you.

Glyszinski. You would like to have me go away?

Paul. Dear Glyszinski, don't ask such stupid questions!

Glyszinski. Well, I should have gone long ago ...

Paul (cutting). Indeed?

Glyszinski. I can see very well how irksome I am to you.

Paul. You are not at all irksome, dear Glyszinski, neither now nor formerly. You are only funny.

Glyszinski. You two admitted me to your household.

Paul. Excuse me! Hella admitted you.

Glyszinski. That is what I was going to say. Upon Hella's express invitation ...

Paul. Correct.

Glyszinski. Indeed I may say upon her wish ...

Paul. Also correct.

Glyszinski. I came into your house.

Paul. That was very kind of you.

Glyszinski. And so I can leave it only upon her invitation. Not before! I should be offending Hella, and that I cannot take upon myself. I revere her too much for that.

Paul (cutting). Sensitive soul that you are!

Glyszinski. Of course my views may not agree with all the conventional rules of society, but there are still other, higher duties.

Paul (amused). And you honor them?

Glyszinski (casting a piercing look at Paul). Yes, it is my duty to protect Hella.

Paul. Protect Hella?... (He gets up.) Do you know! One is impelled to feel sorry for you! (He turns away and walks through the hall.)

Glyszinski. Well!

Paul. Yes, you have no idea how far you are off the track. That's the reason.

Glyszinski. Thanks for your sympathy!

Paul. You are badly off the track, and will hardly get on again, unless you are warned in time. Whether or not that will do you any good, is your affair.

Glyszinski (agitated). But what does all of this mean? I don't understand you.

Paul (very seriously). In a word, that means: look out for women who are like Hella! Look out for that ilk! That tells the whole story! The whole story!

Glyszinski (jumps up). And you expect me to follow that advice?

Paul. Do not follow it, but don't be surprised later on if you find yourself in the position in which I am today. It has taken me ten to twelve years to arrive at it. Half of that time will suffice for you.

Glyszinski. Why that is sheer nonsense! Your position is estimable enough.

Paul. I am a bankrupt! That's all!

Glyszinski (greatly excited). Imagination, pure imagination! You have your position! You have a name in the movement!

Paul (bitterly). Oh yes! This movement!

Glyszinski. I wish I were that far along!

Paul. Possibly you are, without knowing it. But as for myself, when I was of your age and began to fly the track, the aforesaid track, I was quite another fellow! Today as I rode through the snow knee-deep, that became quite clear to me! I saw myself as I had been once upon a time and then realized what had later become of me! All the strength! All the life! All the color! All lost! All gone!... Colorless and commonplace! That is the outcome! (He sinks down in complete collapse.)

Glyszinski (very uncomfortably). And you blame Hella for all that?

Hella (a pen behind her ear, puts in her head and calls). Glyszinski! Doctor! Why don't you come in! I want you to help me write a number of letters. I shall dictate to you. (Withdraws again.)

Glyszinski (with precipitation). Immediately, madam. (He runs to the right.)

Paul (raising his finger). You have been warned!

Glyszinski (already at the door on the right). Some other time! I have no time now!

[Goes off, the door closes again and is bolted on the other side.]

Paul (looks after him, then, after a pause). He is going the same course! (Takes a few steps through the hall, remains standing before the portraits on the wall, looks up at them for a long while, breathes deeply and says, only just audibly): The Warkentins bring no luck!... And they have no luck!...

[He steps across to the spinet which is open, sits down, and softly strikes a number of chords. Aunt Clara comes in quickly from the right, looks around.]

Paul (sitting at the spinet). Well, Aunt Clara? (He lowers his hands from the keys.)

Aunt Clara (cautiously). It is well that you are here, my boy! (She approaches.)

Paul (absent-minded). Is there anything?...

Aunt Clara (shaking her head). Why a person can't talk to your wife. And that young man ... There's something about him too. Where in the world are the two now?

Paul (feigning indifference). There, in the other room, Aunt Clara.

Aunt Clara. Do you suppose she will hear us?

Paul. Oh no, Auntie! They are in the green room. The sun-parlor lies between. And then ... when Hella is working, she doesn't hear anyhow.

Aunt Clara. Those two! I do say! They just have to stay together the whole day! But I was going to say ... Laskowskis ...

Paul. What about Laskowski?

Aunt Clara. Wonder whether we ought to send them an announcement?

Paul. I don't care! Although I do not exactly consider it necessary.

Aunt Clara. Just on account of the wife.

Paul. Whose wife?

Aunt Clara. Well, Mrs. Laskowski. Why, don't you know?

Paul (turns around). Not a thing! Is Laskowski married?

Aunt Clara. Why, Paul! Didn't he marry Antonie?

Paul (recoils). Antoinette ...? Our Antoinette? And I am just finding out about that!

Aunt Clara. Well, I didn't know whether you cared to hear anything about Antonie.

Paul (approaches her and speaks to her in an interested manner). Why, Auntie, one is interested in the people who were once near and dear.

Aunt Clara. Then, you didn't ask about her yesterday!

Paul. Goodness, Aunt Clara! I didn't want to ask!... After all, I'm finding out soon enough!... Poor Antoinette!... Wasn't she able to find any one else?...

Aunt Clara. You had been gone a year and a half, Paul, and then they got married.

Paul (depressed). Well, well ...! That long ago? Then it has really ceased to be news! How does she look? (Bitterly.) I suppose quite ...? (He makes a significant derogatory gesture.)

Aunt Clara. Don't say that, Paul! She can vie with the youngest and most beautiful of them! She is in her very prime now! Just set her over against your wife!

Paul (embarrassed). Well, well! Hella is not exactly obliged to conceal herself, it seems to me.

Aunt Clara (eagerly). But oh, you should see Mrs. Laskowski!

Paul (crabbed). Well, then old Laskowski may thank his stars. How in all the world did Antoinette run into that fellow? I could never bear him!

Aunt Clara. Have you forgotten every thing Paul? Why, he was forever after her, even when you were still here.

Paul. Why, he is the greatest crook on God's green earth!

Aunt Clara. At first Antonie didn't care a thing in the world for him, but later she took him just the same, when it was all over with you.

Paul (disdainfully). Of course he had his eye on her estate, the sly rogue! I'd vouch for that.

Aunt Clara (gleefully). Her estate, Grosz-Rukkoschin, went to him right at her marriage. You know that belongs to her from her father's side. You might have that now, Paul.

Paul (interested). Well, and how do the two get along? He and Antoinette?

Aunt Clara (shrugging her shoulders). Oh, Paul, what do I know about it? They have no children.

Paul (relieved). They haven't any children either? Well!

Aunt Clara. They did have one, a girl! But they lost her.

Paul. Lost her ... Well, well!... Hm! Antoinette!... Antoinette Rousselle as Mrs. von Laskowski!... Could I have dreamed such a thing when I was a sophomore with old Heliodor! (He shakes his head, burdened with memories, then with a sudden change.) Well, of course, we shall send the Laskowskis an announcement. We'll attend to that at once! (Starts to go.)

Aunt Clara (holds him by the arm). Never mind, Paul! I have sent it. Yesterday. I was certain it would be all right with you.

Paul (forced to smile). Well, what do you think of Aunt Clara!...

Aunt Clara. It's only on account of the neighbors. Now that you are here and they live right next to us, if we should not even invite them to the funeral....

Paul (absent-minded). Yes, yes, quite right!

Aunt Clara (searchingly). For you'll have to observe a bit of neighborliness with the estate-owners around here, my boy ...

Paul (warding off). Oh, Aunt Clara, here's the same old question again!

Aunt Clara. Now really, Paul, don't you know yet what you are going to do, whether you intend to remain?

Paul (very seriously). Aunt Clara! I shall never be able to induce Hella. That is becoming clearer and clearer to me!

Aunt Clara (bolt upright). If Ellernhof is sold, I shall not survive it! I have been here thirty-three years! I have carried you all in my arms, you and your brothers and sisters. All of the rest are dead. You are still here, Paul. I closed your mother's eyes for her. I witnessed the death of your father. In all of my days I have known only Ellernhof. At the cemetery I've selected a place for myself where all of them are lying. Shall I go away now at the very end? At least, wait until I am dead!

Paul (passionately). Don't make it so desperately hard for me, Aunt Clara!

Aunt Clara (looking at the walls). Here they all hang on the walls, those who were once active here ...

Paul, (follows her eyes). Do you hear? The door-bell. (The door-hell rings.)

Aunt Clara. Callers.

Paul. Callers! Again!

Aunt Clara. Probably to express their condolences.

Paul (impatiently). Just at the most inopportune moment!

Aunt Clara (listening). I shouldn't be surprised if the Laskowskis were coming!

Paul (giving a start). Antoinette ...? Why, that ...! And I in my riding boots! Do see who it is!

Aunt Clara. Why, of course it is! I can hear him from here ... Shall I bring them in, Paul?

Paul, Can't we take them somewhere else?

Aunt Clara. Where, pray tell? (She goes to the door on the right.)

Paul (goes to the door on the left, knocks). Hella, open the door! I want to change my clothes. There are callers.

Aunt Clara. Why, never mind, you are all right!

Paul (turns away, resigned to his fate). It wouldn't do any good anyhow. Hella does not hear me. Go ahead then! Bring them right along. [Aunt Clara opens the door at the right and goes out. Conversation outside becomes audible.]

Paul (also comes over to the right, seems to be in great agitation, controls himself nervously, steps upon the threshold at the right and addresses those about to enter). This way, if you please. (He steps aside for Antoinette and Laskowski, and makes a short bow). We are very glad to see you!

Laskowski (seizes both of his hands and shakes them a number of times). Glad to see you, old chap! Think of seeing you again. (He and Antoinette have taken off their wraps outside. He wears a black morning coat and black gloves.)

Paul (reserved). Unfortunately on a sad occasion!

Antoinette (in a black gown, simple but elegant). Be assured of our heartfelt sympathy, doctor! (She extends the tips of her fingers to him.)

Paul (somewhat formally). Thank you very much, madam! (His eyes are fastened upon her.)

Aunt Clara (is the last to enter. She closes the door behind her). Will you not be seated? Antonie, please take the sofa!

Paul. Yes indeed, madam, please! Or would you prefer to sit at the fire? You have been riding.

Antoinette. Thank you! I am quite warm. I'll sit down here. (She sits down on the sofa and lets her eyes roam about.)

Laskowski. Think of my wife sitting at the fire! It would have to come to a pretty pass! One who knocks about in the open all day long, like her! (He sits down on the chair to the left of the sofa.)

Paul (under a spell). Do you do that, madam?

Antoinette. Just as it comes! A little horseback, skating ... Whatever winter pastimes there may be!

Paul (who is still standing at his chair). And in summer?

Laskowski. Oh, in summer something else is doing again! Then there is rowing, fishing and swimming to beat the band!

Antoinette. Fortunately we have the lake right near our place.

Paul (has been speaking privately to Aunt Clara). Very well, Auntie, bring us that!

Antoinette. Don't go to any trouble, Miss Clara. We can't stay long.

Laskowski (winks). Well, well, we'll remain a bit longer. I'll still have to go to the inn to take a look at that gelding.

Paul (beckons to his aunt). So bring it along!

Aunt Clara. Very well, boysie, I'm going. (Goes off at the right.)

Paul (sits down in the chair opposite the sofa and becomes absent-minded again). So you have a lake? Where is it? Surely not at Klonowken?

Antoinette. If we only did have that at Klonowken! We have nothing at all there.

Laskowski (joining in with laughter). Heaven knows! The fox and the wolf do the social stunt there!

Antoinette. The lake is at Rukkoschin.

Laskowski (informing him). That is the estate that my dearie brought to me.

Paul (abruptly). Yes, yes.

Laskowski (laughing). That's a different layout from the sandy blowouts of Klonowken! Prime soil! And a forest, I tell you, cousin! Over two thousand acres! One trunk as fine as another! Each one fit for a ship's mast! If I ever have them cut down! That will put grease into the pan! Yes, yes, Rukkoschin is a catch that's worth while. We did a good job of that, didn't we, dearie? (He laughs at Antoinette slyly.)

Paul. I suppose, dear Laskowski, that no one has ever doubted your slyness.

Laskowski (strikes his shoulder). Do you see, Doc, now you say so yourself, and at school you gave me the laugh. That fool Laskowski, so you thought, he'll never get beyond pounding sand in a rat-hole. Have I come up a bit in your eyes? How's that, old boy? Shake hands. Pretty damned long since we have met! (He extends his hand to Paul, who does not seem to notice it.)

Antoinette (who has been biting her lips and looking into space during the words of her husband, suddenly interrupts). We received the announcement this morning, Mr. Warkentin. We thank you very much.

Paul (reserved). It was no more than our duty, madam.

Laskowski. Yes, we were very glad, my wife and I ...

Antoinette (quickly). Not to be forgotten!...

Laskowski. You hit the nail on the head, that's what you did, dearie! You go on and talk. A fellow like myself isn't so handy with his tongue! But he feels it just the same!

Paul (grimly). Rather sudden, was it not, madam?

Antoinette. The best thing that one can wish for!

Paul. Do you think so? I don't know.

Laskowski. Of course. Heart failure's the thing to have!

Antoinette. It grieved me very much.

Paul. Yes, madam.

Antoinette. You see, he was my guardian.

Paul. I know it.

Antoinette. Of course we had not seen each other for some time ...

Laskowski. Goodness, dearie, that's the way it goes sometimes! This fellow's busy and then that fellow's busy ... It's not like in the city. But everybody knows how you feel about it, just the same. And then if you do meet in the city, or at the stockyards, or somewhere else, the jollification is twice as big. Just lately I met your father in just that way. It's not been four weeks. Met him at the station just as I was going to town. And the old gent crossed my path and acted as if he didn't see me. It was right at the ticket window. Of course, I called him! Good morning, major, says I! Howdy? Chipper, and up and coming as ever? Oh, says he, not particularly! Those very words! I can still see him as he stood there!

Antoinette (incredulously). Why you didn't tell me a thing about that.

Laskowski. Guess I forgot to. Who'd think it would be the last time. When I heard that he was dead, day before yesterday, it came to me again. Then we rode in the same compartment and he kept telling me a lot about you, Doc.

Paul, (sarcastically). Really?

Laskowski. He was pretty much bothered, what would become of the place, when he'd be dead and gone ...

Paul. You don't say!

Laskowski. On my honor, Doc.! Expect me to fib to you. Of course I talked him out of it, and told him not to bother about it. First of all that it wasn't up to him yet, and if it was, I was still in the ring.

Paul. Very kind of you.

Laskowski. With all my heart! You and me, Doc., h'm? We understand each other! We'll come to terms all right. Old chap! Old crony! How tickled I am to see you right here before me again! How often I have said if Paul was only here now. Didn't I, dearie!

Antoinette (gesture of impatience). Yes, yes.

Laskowski. Well, what have you been doing all this time, Doc.?

Paul. All kinds of things.

Laskowski. Regular old Socrates. It makes a fellow's wheels buzz to think of what he's got in his head all the time! Do you remember, old chap, how you used to help me out when we were juniors?

Paul. Sophomores, dear Laskowski! You failed to make junior standing.

Laskowski (strikes his fist on the table, in great glee). Damn it all! Did you remember that? I see, old chap, that a fellow has to be on his guard with you.

Paul (with a determined look). If you think ...

Mother_Earth

MOTHER EARTH

Laskowski. These fellows from Berlin. They are up to snuff! That's the place! If they ever come out into the country, look out, boys. They'll not leave a shirt on your back! Guess you made a good deal of spondulics in Berlin, didn't you, Doc.? (He goes through with the gesture of counting money.)

Paul (cutting). Why?

Laskowski. Goodness, a fellow will ask about that. You don't need it, of course. Ellernhof is worth sixty, seventy thousand dollars any day, and a fellow can live off of that. If you can only find a buyer ...

Paul. I haven't the least desire, dear Laskowski.

Laskowski. It's a hard thing too, now-a-days. Buyers are scarce and times are hard for the farmer.

[Aunt Clara comes from the right, carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and glasses.]

Antoinette. You have gone to all this trouble, after all, Miss Clara.

Aunt Clara. Not at all worth mentioning! (Sets the things on the table.)

Laskowski (examines the wine-bottle). Why, what have you brought here, Miss?

Paul. You drink port, don't you, madam?

Laskowski (affectionately). If you don't care for it, dearie, I drink for you.

Antoinette. You may pour me one glass. (She holds out her glass, which Paul fills.)

Laskowski You're sure it won't hurt you, dearie?

Antoinette. Why should it? I drink on other occasions.

Laskowski. Because you are always getting a headache.

Antoinette (looks at him). I?

Laskowski. Now don't get mad right off! Can't a fellow crack a joke? Don't you see that it's a joke? Drink ahead, dearie! I'm drinking too. And then I must be going too.

Paul (who has filled all the glasses). Must you; where?

Laskowski (raises his glass and empties it). Of a forenoon, there's nothing up to a glass of port.

Paul. Why don't you drink, Aunt Clara! (He also drinks.)

Aunt Clara. Oh, I don't care much for wine, my boy, as you may remember. (She sips a little.)

Laskowski (to Antoinette). Well, did you like it, dearie?

Paul. May I give you some more, madam?

Antoinette. No, thank you. It would go to my head.

Laskowski (pushes his glass over). I'll take another glass. Then I must be going. (Looks at his watch.) It's a quarter of eleven.

Paul (fills it). What else have you in mind?

Laskowski. Well, since it just fits in, we being here today, I just want to go over to the inn. They've advertised a gelding there. Take a look at him. If he can be had cheap ... Haven't put one over on anybody for some time! (He laughs, empties the glass and holds it up before him.) Your old gent did invest in a cellar! There ain't a thing, Doc., that I envy you as much as that cellar! (He gets up.)

Antoinette. I shall wait till you return. Come back soon!

Laskowski. On the spot, dearie. I'll only take a vertical whisky over at the inn! Good-by, dearie! Good-by, Doc.! (He goes out at the right.)

Aunt Clara (has also risen, with a sly look). Mercy, my dinner! You can't depend upon these girls! First thing, it'll be burned. (She hastens out at the right.)

Antoinette. Did you not bring Mrs. Warkentin with you, Doctor?

Paul (nervously). Yes, Auntie, please tell Lene to go around and tell my wife we have callers. This door is locked. She cannot get through here. (He has risen and walked over to the right.)

Aunt Clara (going out). Very well, Paul, I shall see to it.

[Goes off. Pause. Paul stands at the fireplace and stares into the fire. Antoinette has leaned back on the sofa and is gazing into space.]

Paul (with an effort). You are not cold, are you, madam? Or I will put on some more wood.

Antoinette (without stirring). Not on my account! I am accustomed to the cold.

Paul (forced). Strange! As hardened as all that.

Antoinette. Completely!

Paul, (takes a step toward her). Antoinette ...?

Antoinette (motionless). Doctor?

Paul, (painfully). Once my name was Paul. Don't you remember?

Antoinette. I have forgotten it!

Paul (controls himself). Well then, madam, may I speak to you?

Antoinette. Will you not call your wife?

Paul. May I not speak to you?

Antoinette. I don't know what you could have to say.

Paul. Something that concerns only you and me and not another soul!

Antoinette (gets up). I do not care to hear it. (Takes a few steps into the hall.)

Paul (seizes her hand). Antoinette!

Antoinette (frees herself). Don't!

Paul. Then why have you come?

Antoinette. Don't, I tell you!

Paul. Then why have you come, I ask of you?

Antoinette (stands with her back to him, blurts out). They fairly dragged me here!

Paul. So you did not come of your own accord?

Antoinette. No!... I should never have come!

Paul. Antoinette ... Is that the truth?

[Antoinette presses her hand to her face and is silent.]

Paul (with bowed head). Then to be sure ...!

Antoinette. Why in the world doesn't your wife come in? (She walks toward the window.)

Paul. Very well! Let her come! (He bites his lips and turns away.)

Lene (appears in the door at the left). Mr. Warkentin ...?

Paul (startled). What is it?

Lene. Mrs. Warkentin says that she has no time now, she'll come directly.

Paul. Very well!... You may go!

Lene. Thank you, Mr. Warkentin! (She casts a glance at the two and goes out. Short pause.)

Paul (with grim humor). As you see, it is not to be, madam!

Antoinette (stands at the window with her back toward the hall). It would seem so. (Presses her face against the panes.)

Paul (walks to and fro, then approaches her). I have had to endure much, Antoinette, very much!

Antoinette (suppressed). Possibly I have too.

Paul. Why, Antoinette, you are weeping? (He stands behind her and tries to look into her face.)

Antoinette (wards him off). I? Not at all!

Paul (heavily). You are weeping, Antoinette!

Antoinette (sinks down). I can't help it. (She surrenders to her pain, but quietly and softly, making her appear all the more touching.)

Paul (kindly). Come, madam! Let me conduct you to the sofa. (About to take her arm.)

Antoinette (refusing). I can go alone. Why do you concern yourself about me at all?

Paul. Antoinette! Don't be stubborn at this moment! Our time is short. Who knows whether we shall ever speak to each other again as we now do. (He leads her forward a short distance.)

Antoinette. All the better!

Paul. Our time is awfully short. I cannot let you go away so! We must make use of the moment! (Bitterly.) The moment that will possibly never return. (He has slowly led her to the front of the stage.)

Antoinette (frees herself violently). Do permit me to go by myself! I do not need you! I need no one!

Paul (bitterly). Very well! I shall not molest you! As you please!

Antoinette (sits down in the chair at the left of the sofa, seems composed again). You see I am quite calm. It was only a temporary indisposition.

Paul (coaxing). May I sit down near you, Antoinette?

Antoinette. What have you to say to me?

Paul, (sits down in the chair before her, looks at her squarely, then, after a moment of devoted contemplation). I am forced to look at you, Antoinette! Pardon me! I am forced to look at you again and again!

Antoinette. Do save up these compliments for your wife, doctor!

Paul (with growing excitement). No compliments, Antoinette! The moment is too precious!

Antoinette. Then why don't you spare yourself the trouble?

Paul. Didn't you feel it, the very moment you came in, Antoinette; I could not keep away from you.

Antoinette. Quite flattering!

Paul. Antoinette! Now you must listen to me to the very end.

Antoinette. Goodness! What do you expect of me?

Paul. Or you should not have come!

Antoinette. Why in the world did I do it?

Paul (fervently, but in an undertone). Antoinette! You are so wonderful! More wonderful than I have ever seen you before!

Antoinette (sarcastically). Oh, indeed ...! Possibly you are even sorry.

Paul (straightens up, harshly). For shame, madam. Such expressions are not suited to you! Leave them to others!

Antoinette (passionately). Your own fault! You have brought mo to this!

Paul (painfully). You have become unfeeling, Antoinette!

Antoinette. I am simply no longer that stupid little creature that you can wind around your finger as once upon a time. Do you still remember that Christmas Eve, Doctor Warkentin?

Paul. I remember it all, Antoinette. Why on that evening my life was decided.

Antoinette. So was mine. In this very hall. I sat at this very place and you before me as now. There is such a thing as providence. I have always believed in that! But now I see it with my own eyes. God in heaven will not be mocked! On my knees I have prayed to him ...!

Paul (frightened). Antoinette!

Antoinette (furiously). On my knees I prayed for him to punish you.

Paul. Toinette, you are mad! What awful injury did I inflict upon you?

Antoinette (Scornfully). You upon me? Oh, none at all! Did you know about me at all? You scorned me! What, that stupid little thing wants me, the great man! Who am I and what is she! Off with her.

Paul. Toinette!

Antoinette (filled with hatred). Yes, off with her. And I did throw myself away! I knew all the time it would spell misfortune for me if I married this ... this man.

Paul (starts up). Is that the way matters stand?

Antoinette. Yes, indeed, that's the way they stand. I don't think of making a secret of it. The whole world knows it. It is shouted from the house-tops!

Paul (clenches his fists). The dog!

Antoinette. It's easy for you to use strong terms now. You hounded me into it! I owe it all to you. But one consolation has remained for me. I have become unhappy. But so are you! And that is why I have come.

Paul (straightens up). What does this mean, Antoinette?

Antoinette. Heavens! Simple enough! You do take an interest in the woman that has been preferred to you. You would like to make the acquaintance of such a marvel.

Paul (offended). You are malicious, madam!

Antoinette. Not at all. I only wanted to see, with my own eyes, how happy you are. But I am quite sufficiently informed. One only needs to take a look at you.

Paul (painfully). Are you satisfied now?

Antoinette (from the bottom of her heart). Yes.

Paul. Are you compelled to detest me?

Antoinette. Do you expect me to thank you?

Paul (fervently). Does it really make you happy to talk to me in this manner, Antoinette?

Antoinette. Happy or not, what I have vowed before the altar, I shall not fail to keep.

Paul (earnestly and sadly). I am the last person to hinder you, Toinette! But I surely may look at you? Will you forbid that?

Antoinette (struggling with herself). Don't talk to me in this manner!

Paul (excited). Just look into your face, Antoinette, the few moments that remain! Stamp upon my mind how much I have lost! Look into your eyes, just once more! Into your wonderful eyes!

Antoinette (jumps up). Don't talk to me in this manner, I say. I haven't deserved it!

Paul (has also risen, seizes her hand). Antoinette, I have found none of the things that I was seeking. I have been miserably deceived! Are you satisfied now?

[Antoinette sinks back into her chair, begins to sob spasmodically.]

Paul (wildly). Why aren't you glad? (He strides through the hall.)

[Antoinette chokes down her sobs.]

Paul (comes back again, bows down to her). Weep, Antoinette! Weep! I wish I could. (He softly presses a kiss upon her hair). [Silence.]

Antoinette (jumps up). I must go! Where is my husband? I must have fresh air! My head! (She looks crazed.)

Paul (takes her arm). Yes, fresh air, Toinette, there we shall feel less constraint. It is fine outside, the snow is falling. Everything is white. Everything is old. Just as both of us have become, Toinette.

Antoinette (leaning on him). I am so afraid! So terribly afraid!

Paul (leading her to the door). You will feel better. Snow is soothing. Come and I will tell you about my life. Possibly you will forgive me then, Antoinette? (He looks at her imploringly and extends his hand to her).

Antoinette (hesitates a moment, then opening her eyes widely she lays her hand in his). Possibly!...

Paul (happy). Thank you, Toinette! Thank you!... And now come.

Antoinette (on his arm, sadly). Where shall we go?

Paul. To the park, Toinette, to the brook, do you remember, to the alders?

Antoinette (nods). To the alders, I remember.

Paul. Out into the snow, to seek our childhood.

[He slowly leads her out at the right.]