My dear Ida! [Embraces her.]

IDA (with her arms around his neck).

And what will become of us now?

Enter COLONEL through centre door.

COLONEL (with forced calmness).

You shall remain in no doubt about that, my daughter!  I beg you, Professor, to forget that you were once treated as a friend in this household.  I require you, Ida, to banish all thought of the hours when this gentleman entertained you with his sentiments. (More violently.) Be still!  In my own house at least I submit to no attacks from a journalist.  Forget him, or forget that you are my daughter.  Go in there! [Leads IDA, not ungently, out to the left, and places himself in front of the door.] On this ground, Mr. Editor and Member of Parliament, before the heart of my child, you shall not beat me.

[Exit to the left.]

ADELAIDE (aside).

Dear me!  That is bad!

OLDENDORF (as the COLONEL turns to go, with determination).

Colonel, it is ungenerous of you to refuse me this interview. [Goes toward the door.]

ADELAIDE (intercepting him quickly).

Stop!  No further!  He is in a state of excitement where a single word might do permanent harm.  But do not leave us this way, Professor; give me just a few moments.

OLDENDORF.

I must, in my present condition of mind, ask your indulgence.  I have long dreaded just such a scene, and yet I hardly feel able to control myself.

ADELAIDE.

You know our friend; you know that his quick temper drives him into acts for which later he would gladly atone.

OLDENDORF.

This was more than a fit of temper.  It means a breach between us two—­a breach that seems to me beyond healing.

ADELAIDE.

Beyond healing, Professor!  If your sentiments toward Ida are what I think they are, healing is not so difficult.  Would it not be fitting for you even now—­especially now—­to accede to the father’s wishes.  Does not the woman you love deserve that, for once at least, you sacrifice your ambition!

OLDENDORF.

My ambition, yes; my duty, no.

ADELAIDE.

Your own happiness, Professor, seems to me to be ruined for a long time, possibly forever, if you part from Ida in this way.

OLDENDORF (gloomily).

Not every one can be happy in his private life.

ADELAIDE.

This resignation does not please me at all, least of all in a man.  Pardon me for saying so, plainly. (Ingratiatingly.) Is the misfortune so great if you become member for this town a few years later, or even not at all?

OLDENDORF.