Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/233

 Stensgård.

Well—and what happened then? How did she take it?

Heire.

Like a loving woman, of course—burst into tears; locked herself into her room; would neither answer nor show herself

Stensgård.

Ah, thank goodness!

Heire.

It's barbarous to subject a widow's heart to such cruel tests, to go and gloat over her jealous agonies! But love has cat's eyes I say no more! For to-day, as I drove past, there stood Madam Rundholmen, brisk and buxom, at her open window, combing her hair. She looked like a mermaid, if you'll allow me to say so. Oh, she's a fine woman!

Stensgård.

Well, and then?

Heire.

Why, she laughed like one possessed, sir, and waved a letter in the air, and called out "A proposal, Mr. Heire! I'm engaged to be married."

Stensgård.

What! Engaged?

Heire.

My hearty congratulations, young man; I'm inexpressibly pleased to be the first to announce to you

Stensgård.

It's all rubbish! It's nonsense!