, I must
just run and tell the housemaid that--she will enjoy the joke so, eh?

_Hedda_ (_coldly, in self-command_). It is surely not necessary, even
for a clever Norwegian man of letters in a realistic social drama, to
make quite such a fool of himself as all that?

_George_. No, that's true too. Perhaps we'd better keep it
quiet--though I _must_ tell Aunt JULIE--it will make her so happy to
hear that you burnt a manuscript on my account! And, besides, I should
like to ask her whether that's a usual thing with young wives. (_Looks
uneasy and pensive again._) But poor old EJLERT'S manuscript! Oh Lor,
you know! Well, well! [Mrs. ELVSTED _comes in_.

_Mrs. E._ Oh, please, I'm so uneasy about dear Mr. LOeVBORG. Something
has happened to him, I'm sure!

_Judge Brack_ (_comes in from the hall, with a new hat in his hand_).
You have guessed it, first time. Something _has!_

_Mrs. E._ Oh, dear, good gracious! What is it? Something distressing,
I'm certain of it! [_d._

_Brack_ (_pleasantly_). That depends on how one takes it. He has shot
himself, and is in a hospital now, that's all!

_George_ (_sympathetically_). That's sad, eh? poor old LOeVBORG! Well,
I _am_ cut up to hear that. Fancy, though, eh?

_Hedda_. Was it through the temple, or through the breast? The breast?
Well, one can do it beautifully through the breast, too. Do you know,
as an advanced woman, I like an act of that sort--it's so positive, to
have the courage to settle the account with himself--it's beautiful,
really!

_Mrs. E._ Oh, HEDDA, what an odd way to look at it! But never mind
poor dear Mr. LOeVBORG now. What _we've_ got to do is to see if we
can't put his wonderful manuscript, that he said he had torn to
pieces, together again. (_Takes a bundle of small pages out of the
pocket of her mantle._) There are the loose scraps he dictated it to
me from. I hid them on the chance of some such emergency. And if
dear Mr. TESMAN and I were to put our heads together, I _do_ think
something might come of it.

_George_. Fancy! I will dedicate my life--or all I can spare of it--to
the task. I seem to feel I owe him some slight amends, perhaps. No use
crying over spilt milk, eh, Mrs. ELVSTED? We'll sit down--just you and
I--in the back drawing-room, and see if you can't inspire me as you
did him, eh?

_Mrs. E._ Oh, goodness, yes! I should like it--if it only might be
possible!

[GEORGE _and_ Mrs. E. _go into the back Drawing-room and
become absorbed i