Madam Helseth.  Lord forgive you, Miss!—­(fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table)—­but you’re making fun of me!

Rebecca (gravely).  No, indeed.  Nobody makes fun at Rosmershoelm.  Mr. ROSMER would not understand it. (Shutting window.) Ah, here is Rector KROLL. (Opening door.) You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I will tell them to give us some little extra dish.

Kroll (hanging up his hat in the hall).  Many thanks. (Wipes his boots.) May I come in? (Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks about him.) And how do you and ROSMER get on together, eh?

Reb. Ever since your sister, BEATA, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, we have been as happy as two little birds together. (After a pause, sitting down in arm-chair.) So you don’t really mind my living here all alone with ROSMER?  We were afraid you might, perhaps.

Kroll.  Why, how on earth—­on the contrary, I shouldn’t object at all if you—­(looks at her meaningly)—­h’m!

Reb. (interrupting, gravely).  For shame, Rector; how can you make such jokes!

Kroll (as if surprised).  Jokes?  We do not joke in these parts—­but here is ROSMER.

[Illustration:  “Taking off his gloves meaningly.”]

    [Enter ROSMER, gently and softly.

Rosmer.  So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year’s absence. (Sits down.) We almost thought that—­

Kroll (nods).  So Miss WEST was saying—­but you are quite mistaken.  I merely thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor BEATA’s suicide, so I kept away.  We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.

Rosmer.  It was considerate—­but unnecessary.  REB—­I mean, Miss WEST and I often allude to the incident, do we not?

Reb. (strikes Taendstickor).  Oh, yes, indeed. (Lighting lamp.) Whenever we feel a little more cheerful than usual.

Kroll.  You dear good people! (Wanders up the room.) I came because the Spirit of Revolt has crept into my School.  A Secret Society has existed for weeks in the Lower Third!  To-day it has come to my knowledge that a booby-trap was prepared for me by the hand of my own son, LAURITS, and I then discovered that a hair has been inserted in my cane by my daughter HILDA!  The only way in which a right-minded Schoolmaster can combat this anarchic and subversive spirit is to start a newspaper, and I thought that you, as a weak, credulous, inexperienced and impressionable kind of man, were the very person to be the Editor.

    [REB. laughs softly, as if to herself.  ROSMER jumps up and
    sits down again.

Reb. (with a look at Rosmer).  Tell him now!

Rosmer (returning the look).  I can’t—­some other evening.  Well, perhaps—­ (To KROLL.) I can’t be your Editor—­because (in a low voice) I—­I am on the side of LAURITS and HILDA!