saying that sort of thing.

Arnholm. Well, frankly, I've noticed that, too.

Bolette. But really there's not an atom of truth in it. Not for us who
always live here. What good is it to us that the great strange world
comes hither for a time on its way North to see the midnight sun? We
ourselves have no part in that; we see nothing of the midnight sun. No!
We've got to be good, and live our lives here in our carp pond.

Arnholm (sitting down by her). Now tell me, dear Bolette, isn't there
something or other--something definite you are longing for?

Bolette. Perhaps.

Arnholm. What is it, really? What is it you are longing for?

Bolette. Chiefly to get away.

Arnholm. That above all, then?

Bolette. Yes; and then to learn more. To really know something about
everything.

Arnholm. When I used to teach you, your father often said he would let
you go to college.

Bolette. Yes, poor father! He says so many things. But when it comes to
the point he--there's no real stamina in father.

Arnholm. No, unfortunately you're right there. He has not exactly
stamina. But have you ever spoken to him about it--spoken really
earnestly and seriously?

Bolette. No, I've not quite done that.

Arnholm. But really you ought to. Before it is too late, Bolette, why
don't you?

Bolette. Oh! I suppose it's because there's no real stamina in me
either. I certainly take after father in that.

Arnholm. Hm--don't you think you're unjust to yourself there?

Bolette. No, unfortunately. Besides, father has so little time for
thinking of me and my future, and not much desire to either. He prefers
to put such things away from him whenever he can. He is so completely
taken up with Ellida.

Arnholm. With whom? What?

Bolette. I mean that he and my stepmother--(breaks off). Father and
mother suffice one another, as you see.

Arnholm. Well, so much the better if you were to get away from here.

Bolette. Yes; but I don't think I've a right to; not to forsake father.

Arnholm. But, dear Bolette, you'll have to do that sometime, anyhow. So
it seems to me the sooner the better.

Bolette. I suppose there is nothing else for it. After all, I must think
of myself, too. I must try and get occupation of some sort. When once
father's gone, I have no one to hold to. But, poor father! I dread
leaving him.

Arnholm. Dread?

Bolette. Yes, for father's sake.

Arnholm. But, good heavens! Your stepmother? She is left to him.

Bolette. That's