Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/325

 Arnholm.

H'm,—I am afraid every man is a trifle selfish under those circumstances. But I can't say that I have noticed that vice in you, Dr. Wangel.

Wangel.

[Wandering uneasily up and down.] Oh yes! And I have been so since, as well. I am so much, much older than she; I ought to have been to her like a father and a guide in one. I ought, to have done my best to develop and clarify her intelligence. But unfortunately I have done nothing of the sort. I have not had energy enough, you see! And in fact I preferred to have her just as she was. But then she grew worse and worse, and I was at my wits' end to know what to do [Lower.] That is why I turned to you in my perplexity, and asked you to come to us.

Arnholm.

[Looks at him in astonishment.] What! Was that why you wrote to me?

Wangel. Yes; but don't say anything about it.

Arnholm.

My dear Doctor,—what in the world—what good did you suppose I could do? I don't understand.

Wangel.

No, of course you do not; I had got upon a wrong scent. I fancied that Ellida had once cared for you, and that she still had a secret leaning in your direction. So I thought it might