Olof [to the children]. You may go out now, children.
The children [rise].
Sigga [To Olof]. Mother, when may we go
berry-picking with Hadda
Hadda Padda [smiles at the children]. We’ll go next Sunday.
Olof. Now go out and play! It’s such lovely weather!
Steindor. And you may build your little play-house, but not in the part that isn’t mowed.
Skuli. Come along, children!
Doddi. Come along! [The children go out.]
Hadda Padda. I had a letter from my friend Helga to-day. She writes she is coming to see me for the week-end.
The Sheriff. We expect quite a few people over the week-end. I had a letter from Arni, the tourist guide, who says he’ll be here with six tourists next Sunday.
Steindor. How are we going to accommodate all these people?
Lady Margaret. Yes, it is true, every summer we have more and more guests. But, what difference does it make—The rooms of Breidabol are still large enough.
Olof [to Steindor]. You can room with Ingolf
for the present. [To
Hadda.] And I’ll move in with you. Then we’ll have an extra room.
The Sheriff. My, but will you really be here three weeks to-morrow? It’s so good to have both sisters at the same time. You haven’t been here together since you were tiny little tots—just so high!
Kristrun. I would have been here last year, if I hadn’t been sick.
The Sheriff. ... Well, let’s not lose any more time, [Gets up] Steindor, we are behind in our work. [They go out. Then all get up. Ingolf goes over to the arm-chair near the window, and sits down.]
Lady Margaret [going out]. Will you clear the table, Olla dear.
Hadda Padda [assists Olof]. Shall we all go for a walk now? It’s a glorious day!
Olof [taking the coffee things into the dining-room]. Yes, I just have some time to spare.
Kristrun. I’m not going out again, I’ve just come in.
Hadda Padda [taking Ingolf’s hand].
You look so tired to-day. ...
Shall we go?
Ingolf. It’s cooler indoors.
Hadda Padda [in the same tone, as if she
had not addressed
Ingolf]. Olof, shall we go?
Olof. Yes, Hadda dear. [Takes her arm—they go. Ingolf leans back in the arm-chair and closes his eyes.]
Kristrun [jumps on top of the chaise-longue, swings her arms crying]. Ingolf! Ride me pickaback! Right now! [Ingolf looks at her, smiling, casts a glance at the door and through the window, as he approaches the chaise-longue. Kristrun sits gracefully down on his shoulder. Her dress is drawn rather tightly, so that one of her legs shows. He takes hold of her leg to support her, and starts walking around the table.]