encases herself in an armor of ice. And those papers--if
I could only burn them! They are filled with meanness, falsehood and
revenge. Therefore, my child, you must keep away from evil and unclean
things, both with your lips and heart.

BENJAMIN. How you understand everything!

ELEONORA. Do you know something else that I feel? If Elis and Christine
get to know that I bought the Easter lily in that unusual way, they
will--

BENJAMIN. What will they do?

ELEONORA. They will send me back--_there_. Where I just came from. Where
the sun never shines. Where the walls are dark and bare. Where one hears
only crying and lamentation. Where I sat away a year of my life.

BENJAMIN. Where do you mean?

ELEONORA. There, where one is tortured more than in prison. Where the
unfortunate dwell, where unquiet reigns, where despair never sleeps, and
whence no one returns.

BENJAMIN. Worse than prison? How could that be?

ELEONORA. In prison one is tried and heard, but there in _that_ place no
one listens. Poor little Easter lily that was the cause of all this! I
meant so well, and it turned but so badly!

BENJAMIN. But don't you go to the florist and tell him how it happened.
You would be like a lamb led to the sacrifice.

ELEONORA. It doesn't complain when it knows that it _must_ be
sacrificed, and doesn't even seek to get away. What else can _I_ do?

ELIS [Enters from R., a letter in his hand]. Hasn't the paper come yet?

ELEONORA. No, brother dear.

ELIS [Turns toward kitchen door]. Lina must go out and get an evening
paper.

[Mrs. Heyst enters from R., Eleonora and Benjamin show fear.]

ELIS [To Eleonora and Benjamin]. Go out for a few moments. I want to
speak to mother.

[Eleonora and Benjamin go out.]

MRS. HEYST. Have you received word from the asylum?

ELIS. Yes.

MRS. HEYST. What do they want?

ELIS. They demand Eleonora's return.--

MRS. HEYST. I won't allow it. She's my own child--

ELIS.--And my sister.

MRS. HEYST. What do you mean to do?

ELIS. I don't know. I can't think any more.

MRS. HEYST. But I can. Eleonora, the child of sorrow, has found
happiness, tho' it's not of this world. Her unrest has turned to peace,
which she sheds upon others. Sane or not, she has found wisdom. She
knows how to carry life's burdens better than I do, better than all of
us. Am _I_ sane, for that matter? Was I sane when I thought my husband
innocent altho' I knew that he was convicted by the evidence, and
that