Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/133

 good Lord, Mortensgård has got on in the world since those days. There's a many people run after him now.

Rebecca.

Yes, most of the poor people bring their affairs to him when they're in any trouble.

Madam Helseth.

Ah, and others too, perhaps, besides the poor folk

Rebecca.

[Looks at her furtively.] Indeed.

Madam Helseth.

[By the sofa, dusting away vigorously.] Perhaps the last people you would think likely to, Miss.

Rebecca.

[Busy with the flowers.] Come now, that's only an idea of yours, Madam Helseth. You can't be sure of what you're saying.

Madam Helseth.

You think I can't, Miss? But I can tell you I am. Why—if you must know it—I once took a letter in to Mortensgård myself.

Rebecca.

[Turning.] No—did you?

Madam Helseth.

Yes, indeed I did. And a letter that was written here at Rosmersholm too.

Rebecca.

Really, Madam Helseth?