ds.

(ARNHOLM and BOLETTE come from the left along the footpath outside the
garden.)

Bolette (to those in the garden). Do come and see! The great English
steamer's just going up the fjord.

(A large steamer glides slowly past in the distance.)

Lyngstrand (to HILDE behind the garden fence). Tonight he's sure to come
to her.

Hilde (nods). To the faithless sailor-wife--yes.

Lyngstrand. Fancy, at midnight!

Hilde. That must be so fascinating.

Ellida (looking after the ship). Tomorrow, then!

Wangel. And then never again.

Ellida (in a low, imploring tone). Oh! Wangel, save me from myself!

Wangel (looks anxiously at her). Ellida--I feel there is something
behind this--

Ellida. There is--the temptation!

Wangel. Temptation?

Ellida. The man is like the sea!

(She goes slowly and thoughtfully through the garden, and out to the
left. WANGEL walks uneasily by her side, watching her closely.)

ACT IV

(SCENE.--DOCTOR WANGEL'S garden-room. Doors right and left. In the
background, between the windows, an open glass door leading out on to
the verandah. Below this, a portion of the garden is visible. A sofa
and table down left. To the right a piano, and farther back a large
flower-stand. In the middle of the room a round table, with chairs. On
the table is a rose-tree in bloom, and other plants around it. Morning.

In the room, by the table, BOLETTE is sitting on the sofa, busy with
some embroidery. LYNGSTRAND is seated on a chair at the upper end of
the table. In the garden below BALLESTED sits painting. HILDE stands by
watching him.)

Lyngstrand (with his arms on the table, sits silent awhile, looking at
BOLETTE'S work). It must be awfully difficult to do a border like that,
Miss Wangel?

Bolette. Oh, no! It's not very difficult, if only you take care to count
right.

Lyngstrand. To count? Must you count, too?

Bolette. Yes, the stitches. See!

Lyngstrand. So you do! Just fancy! Why, it's almost a kind of art. Can
you design, too?

Bolette. Oh, yes! When I've a copy.

Lyngstrand. Not unless?

Bolette. No.

Lyngstrand. Well, then, after all, it's not a real art?

Bolette. No; it is rather only a sort of--handicraft.

Lyngstrand. But still, I think that perhaps you could learn art.

Bolette. If I haven't any talent?

Lyngstrand. Yes; if you could always be with a real true artist--

Bolette. Do you think, then, I could learn it from him?

Lyngstrand. Not exactly learn in the