ot by their beliefs, but
by their efforts towards goodness and truth. I mean to teach my
congregation that lesson by calling upon your aunt next Sunday." (The
GRANDMOTHER nods at her approvingly. LEONARDA sees this, takes her hand,
and turns again towards the BISHOP.) This venerable lady pleads for
me too. She belongs to a day that was more tolerant than ours--at all
events than ours is in this little out-of-the-way place. All the wisdom
of her long life is summed up in these two words: Have forbearance!

Bishop. There is one kind of forbearance, Mrs. Falk, that is forbidden
us--the forbearance that would efface the distinction between good and
evil. That is what the "toleration" of my grandmother's day meant; but
it is not an example to be followed.

Leonarda (leaving the GRANDMOTHER's side). If I have erred--if I seem
of no account, from the lofty standpoint from which you look upon
life--remember that you serve One who was the friend of sinners.

Bishop. I will be your friend when I see you seeking your soul's
salvation. I will do all I can then.

Leonarda. Help me to expiate my past! That means everything to me--and
is not much for you to do. I only ask for a little show of courtesy,
instead of indignities! I will contrive that we shall seldom meet. Only
don't drive me away--because that means exposing me to contempt. Believe
me, I will give you no cause for shame; and your good deed will be
rewarded by the gratitude of the young people.

Bishop. I am deeply distressed at having to take up this attitude
towards you. You are bound to think me hardhearted; but that is not the
case. I have to consider that I am the guardian of thousands of anxious
consciences. I dare not for my nephew's sake offend the respect they
feel for me, the trust they put in me; nor dare I disregard the law we
all must follow. For a bishop to do as I have done in opening my doors
to your niece, is in itself no small thing, when you consider the
dissensions that are going on in the Church nowadays. I cannot, I
dare not, go farther and open my doors to a woman whom my whole
congregation--albeit unjustly--well, I won't wound your feelings by
going on.

Leonarda. Really?

Bishop. Believe me, it gives me great pain. You have made a remarkable
impression upon me personally. (Meanwhile the GRANDMOTHER has got up to
go out of the room.)

Leonarda. Are you going away? (The BISHOP goes to the wall and rings a
bell.)

Grandmother. Yes--I am to