Chapter 21

Johan.

Ah, it was Martha? By-the-bye, where is Martha to-day?

Bernick.

Oh, she is always busy either at the school, or among her sick people.

Johan.

Then it was Martha that took charge of Dina?

Bernick.

Yes; education has always been Martha’s hobby. That is why she accepted a place in the national school. It was a piece of folly on her part.

Johan.

She certainly looked very much done up yesterday. I should scarcely think her health would stand it.

Bernick.

Oh, I don’t think there’s much amiss with her health. But it’s unpleasant for me. It looks as if I, her brother, were not willing to maintain her.

Johan.

Maintain her? I thought she had enough of her own to——

Bernick.

Not a halfpenny. I daresay you remember what difficulties my mother was in when you left. She got on for some time with my help; but of course that arrangement could not permanently satisfy me. So I determined to go into partnership with her; but even then things were far from going well. At last I had to take over the whole affair; and when we came to make up accounts, there was scarcely anything left to my mother’s share. Then, shortly afterwards, she died; and Martha, of course, was left with nothing.

Johan.

Poor Martha!

Bernick.

Poor! Why so? You don’t suppose I let her want for anything? Oh no; I think I may say I am a good brother to her. Of course she lives here and has her meals with us; her salary as a teacher is quite enough for her dress, and—what can a single woman want more?

Johan.

H’m; that’s not the way we think in America.

Bernick.

No, I daresay not; there are too many agitators at work over there. But here, in our little circle, where, thank heaven, corruption has not as yet managed to creep in—here women are content with a modest and unobtrusive position. For the rest, it is Martha’s own fault; she could have been provided for long ago if she had cared to.

Johan.

You mean she could have married?

Bernick.

Yes, and married very well too; she has had several good offers. Strangely enough!—a woman without money, no longer young, and quite insignificant.

Johan.

Insignificant?

Bernick.

Oh, I am not blaming her at all. Indeed, I would not have her otherwise. In a large house like ours, you know, it is always convenient tohave some steady-going person like her, whom one can put to anything that may turn up.

Johan.

Yes, but she herself——?

Bernick.

She herself? What do you mean? Oh, of course she has plenty to interest herself in—Betty, and Olaf, and me, you know. People ought not to think of themselves first; women least of all. We have each our community, great or small, to support and work for. I do so, at any rate. [Pointing toKrap,who enters from the right.] See, here you have an instance. Do you think it is my own business I am occupied with? By no means. [Quickly toKrap.] Well?

Krap.

[Whispers, showing him a bundle of papers.] All the arrangements for the purchase are complete.

Bernick.

Capital! excellent!—Oh, Johan, you must excuse me for a moment. [Low, and with a pressure of the hand.] Thanks, thanks, Johan; and be sure that anything I can do to serve you—you understand——Come, Mr. Krap!

[They go into the Consul’s office.

Johan.

[Looks after him for some time.] H’m——!

[He turns to go down the garden. At the same momentMarthaenters from the right with a little basket on her arm.

Johan.

Ah, Martha!

Martha.

Oh—Johan—is that you?

Johan.

Have you been out so early too?

Martha.

Yes. Wait a little; the others will be here soon.

[Turns to go out to the left.

Johan.

Tell me, Martha—why are you always in such a hurry?

Martha.

Johan.

Yesterday you seemed to keep out of my way, so that I could not get a word with you; and to-day——

Martha.

Yes, but——

Johan.

Before, we were always together—we two old playfellows.

Martha.

Ah, Johan, that is many, many years ago.

Johan.

Why, bless me, it’s fifteen years ago, neither more nor less. Perhaps you think I have changed a great deal?

Martha.

You? Oh yes, you too, although——

Johan.

What do you mean?

Martha.

Oh, nothing.

Johan.

You don’t seem overjoyed to see me again.

Martha.

I have waited so long, Johan—toolong.

Johan.

Waited? For me to come?

Martha.

Yes.

Johan.

And why did you think Iwouldwouldcome?

Martha.

To expiate where you had sinned.

Johan.

Martha.

Have you forgotten that a woman died in shame and need for your sake? Have you forgotten that by your fault a young girl’s best years have been embittered?

Johan.

Andyousay this to me? Martha, has your brother never——?

Martha.

What of him?

Johan.

Has he never——? Oh, I mean has he never said so much as a word in my defence?

Martha.

Ah, Johan, you know Karsten’s strict principles.

Johan.

H’m—of course, of course—yes, I know my old friend Karsten’s strict principles.—But this is——! Well, well—I have just been talking to him. It seems to me he has changed a good deal.

Martha.

How can you say so? Karsten has always been an excellent man.

Johan.

That was not exactly what I meant; but let that pass.—H’m; now I understand the light you have seen me in; it is the prodigal’s return that you have been waiting for.

Martha.

Listen, Johan, and I will tell you in what light I have seen you. [Points down to the garden.] Do you see that girl playing on the lawn with Olaf? That is Dina. Do you remember that confused letter you wrote me when you went away? You asked me to believe in you. Ihavebelieved in you, Johan. All the bad things that there were rumours of afterwards must have been done in desperation, without thought, without purpose——

Johan.

What do you mean?

Martha.

Oh, you understand me well enough; no more of that. But you had to go away—to begin afresh—anew life. See, Johan, I have stood in your place here, I, your old playfellow. The duties you forgot, or could not fulfil, I have fulfilled for you. I tell you this, that you may have the less to reproach yourself with. I have been a mother to that much-wronged child; I have brought her up as well as I could——

Johan.

And thrown away your whole life in doing so!

Martha.

It has not been thrown away. But you have been long of coming, Johan.

Johan.

Martha—if I could say to you——Well, at all events let me thank you for your faithful friendship.

Martha.

[Smiling sadly.] Ah——! Well, now we have made a clean breast of things, Johan. Hush, here comes some one. Good-bye; I don’t want them to——

[She goes out through the second door on the left.Lona Hesselcomes from the garden, followed byMrs. Bernick.

Mrs. Bernick.

[Still in the garden.] Good heavens, Lona, what can you be thinking of?

Lona.

Let me alone, I tell you; I must and will talk to him.

Mrs. Bernick.

Think what a frightful scandal it would be! Ah, Johan, are you still here?

Lona.

Out with you, boy; don’t hang about indoors in the stuffy rooms; go down the garden and talk to Dina.

Johan.

Just what I was thinking of doing.

Mrs. Bernick.

But——

Lona.

Listen, Johan; have you ever really looked at Dina?

Johan.

Yes; I should think I had.

Lona.

Well, you should look at her to some purpose. She’s the very thing for you.

Mrs. Bernick.

But, Lona——!

Johan.

The thing for me?

Lona.

Yes, to look at, I mean. Now go!

Johan.

Yes, yes; I don’t need any driving.

[He goes down the garden.

Mrs. Bernick.

Lona, you amaze me. You cannot possibly be in earnest.

Lona.

Yes, indeed I am. Isn’t she fresh, and sound, and true? She’s just the wife for John. She’s the sort of companion he needs over there; a different thing from an old step-sister.

Mrs. Bernick.

Dina! Dina Dorf! Just think——!

Lona.

I think first and foremost of the boy’s happiness. Help him I must and will—he needs a little help in such matters; he has never had much of an eye for women.

Mrs. Bernick.

He? Johan! Surely we have sad cause to know that——

Lona.

Oh, deuce take that foolish old story? Where is Bernick? I want to speak to him.

Mrs. Bernick.

Lona, you shall not do it, I tell you!

Lona.

I shall do it. If the boy likes her, and she him, why then they shall make a match of it. Bernick is such a clever man; he must manage the thing——

Mrs. Bernick.

And you think that these American infamies will be tolerated here——

Lona.

Nonsense, Betty——

Mrs. Bernick.

——that a man like Karsten, with his strict moral ideas——

Lona.

Oh, come now, surely they’re not so tremendously strict as all that.

Mrs. Bernick.

What do you dare to say?

Lona.

I dare to say that I don’t believe Karsten Bernick is so very much more moral than other men.

Mrs. Bernick.

Do you still hate him, then, so bitterly? Whatcanyou want here, since you have never been able to forget that——? I can’t understand how you dare look him in the face, after the shameful way you insulted him.

Lona.

Yes, Betty, I forgot myself terribly that time.

Mrs. Bernick.

And how nobly he has forgiven you—he, who had done no wrong? For he couldn’t help your foolish fancies. But since that time you have hated me too. [Bursts into tears.] You have always envied me my happiness. And now you come here to heap this trouble upon me—to show the town what sort of a family I have brought Karsten into. Yes; it is I that have to suffer for it all; and that’s just what you want. Oh, it’s hateful of you!

[She goes out crying, by the second door on the left.

Lona.

[Looking after her.] Poor Betty!

[Consul Bernickcomes out of his office.

Bernick.

[Still at the door.] Yes, yes; that’s all right, Krap—that’s excellent. Send four hundred crowns for a dinner to the poor. [Turns.] Lona? [Advancing.] You are alone? Is not Betty here?

Lona.

No. Shall I call her?

Bernick.

No, no; please don’t! Oh, Lona, you don’t know how I have been burning to talk openly with you—to beg for your forgiveness.

Lona.

Now listen, Karsten: don’t let us get sentimental. It doesn’t suit us.

Bernick.

Youmusthear me, Lona. I know very well how much appearances are against me, since you have heard all about Dina’s mother. But I swear to you it was only a momentary aberration; at one time I really, truly, and honestly loved you.

Lona.

What do you think has brought me home just now?

Bernick.

Whatever you have in mind, I implore you to do nothing before I have justified myself. I can do it, Lona; at least I can show that I was not altogether to blame.

Lona.

Now you are frightened.—You once loved me, you say? Yes, you assured me so, often enough, in your letters; and perhaps it was true, too—after a fashion—so long as you were living out there in a great, free world, that gave you courage to think freely and greatly yourself. Perhaps you found in me a little more character, and will, and independence than in most people at home here. And then it was a secret between us two; no one could make fun of your bad taste.

Bernick.

Lona, how can you think——?

Lona.

But when you came home; when you saw the ridicule that poured down upon me; when you heard the laughter at what were called my eccentricities——

Bernick.

Youwereinconsiderate in those days.

Lona.

Mainly for the sake of annoying the prudes, both in trousers and petticoats, that infested the town. And then you fell in with that fascinating young actress——

Bernick.

The whole thing was a piece of folly—nothing more. I swear to you, not a tithe of the scandal and tittletattle was true.

Lona.

Perhaps not; but then Betty came home—young, beautiful, idolised by every one—and whenit became known that she was to have all our aunt’s money, and I nothing——

Bernick.

Yes, here we are at the root of the matter, Lona; and now you shall hear the plain truth. I did not love Betty then; it was for no new fancy that I broke with you. It was entirely for the sake of the money; I was forced to do it; Ihadto make sure of the money.

Lona.

And you tell me this to my face!

Bernick.

Yes, I do. Hear me, Lona——

Lona.

And yet you wrote me that an irresistible passion for Betty had seized you, appealed to my magnanimity, conjured me for Betty’s sake to say nothing of what had passed between us——

Bernick.

I had to, I tell you.

Lona.

Now, by all that’s holy, I am not sorry I forgot myself as I did that day.

Bernick.

Let me tell you, calmly and deliberately, what my position was at that time. My mother, you know, stood at the head of the business; but she had no business capacity. I was hurriedly called home from Paris; the times were critical; I was to retrieve the situation. What did I find? I found—and this, remember, had to be keptstrictly secret—a house as good as ruined. Yes, it was as good as ruined, the old, respected house, that had stood through three generations. What could I, the son, the only son, do, but cast about me for a means of saving it?

Lona.

So you saved the house of Bernick at the expense of a woman.

Bernick.

You know very well that Betty loved me.

Lona.

But I?

Bernick.

Believe me, Lona, you would never have been happy with me.

Lona.

Was it your care for my happiness that made you play me false?

Bernick.

Do you think it was from selfish motives that I acted as I did? If I had stood alone then, I would have begun the world again, bravely and cheerfully. But you don’t understand how the head of a great house becomes a living part of the business he inherits, with its enormous responsibility. Do you know that the welfare of hundreds, ay of thousands, depends upon him? Can you not consider that it would have been nothing short of a disaster to the whole community, which both you and I call our home, if the house of Bernick had fallen?

Lona.

Is it for the sake of the community, then, that for these fifteen years you have stood upon a lie?

Bernick.

A lie?

Lona.

How much does Betty know of all that lay beneath and before her marriage with you?

Bernick.

Can you think that I would wound her to no purpose by telling her these things?

Lona.

To no purpose, you say? Well well, you are a business man; you should understand what is to the purpose.—But listen, Karsten: I, too, will speak calmly and deliberately. Tell me—after all, are you really happy?

Bernick.

In my family, do you mean?

Lona.

Of course.

Bernick.

I am indeed, Lona. Oh, you have not sacrificed yourself in vain. I can say truly that I have grown happier year by year. Betty is so good and docile. In the course of years she has learnt to mould her character to what is peculiar in mine——

Lona.

H’m.

Bernick.

At first, it is true, she had some high-flown notions about love; she could not reconcile herself to the thought that, little by little, it must pass over into a placid friendship.

Lona.

But she is quite reconciled to that now?

Bernick.

Entirely. You may guess that daily intercourse with me has not been without a ripening influence upon her. People must learn to moderate their mutual claims if they are to fulfil their duties in the community in which they are placed. Betty has by degrees come to understand this, so that our house is now a model for our fellow citizens.

Lona.

But these fellow citizens know nothing of the lie?

Bernick.

Of the lie?

Lona.

Yes, of the lie upon which you have stood for these fifteen years.

Bernick.

You call that——?

Lona.

I call it the lie—the threefold lie. First the lie towards me; then the lie towards Betty; then the lie towards Johan.

Bernick.

Betty has never asked me to speak.

Lona.

Because she has known nothing.

Bernick.

Andyouwill not ask me to;—out of consideration for her, you will not.

Lona.

Oh, no; I daresay I shall manage to bear all the ridicule; I have a broad back.

Bernick.

And Johan will not ask me either—he has promised me that.

Lona.

But you yourself, Karsten? Is there not something within you that longs to get clear of the lie?

Bernick.

You would have me voluntarily sacrifice my domestic happiness and my position in society!

Lona.

What right have you to stand where you are standing?

Bernick.

For fifteen years I have every day earned a clearer right—by my whole life, by all I have laboured for, by all I have achieved.

Lona.

Yes, you have laboured for much and achieved much, both for yourself and others. You are the richest and most influential man in the town; they have to bow before your will, all of them, because you are held to be a man without stain or flaw—your home is a model, your life is a model. But all this magnificence, and you yourself along with it, stand on a trembling quicksand. A moment may come, a word may be spoken—and, if you do not save yourself in time, you and all your grandeur go to the bottom.

Bernick.

Lona—what did you come here to do?

Lona.

To help you to get firm ground under your feet, Karsten.

Bernick.

Revenge! You want to revenge yourself. I thought as much! But you will not succeed! There is onlyonewho has a right to speak, and he is silent.

Lona.

Johan?

Bernick.

Yes, Johan. If any one else accuses me, I shall deny everything. If you try to crush me, I shall fight for my life. You will never succeed, I tell you! He who could destroy me will not speak—and he is going away again.

RummelandVigelandenter from the right.

Rummel.

Good-morning, good-morning, my dear Bernick. You are coming with us to the Trade Council? We have a meeting on the railway business, you know.

Bernick.

I cannot. It’s impossible just now.

Vigeland.

You really must, Consul——

Rummel.

You must, Bernick. There are people working against us. Hammer and the other men who were in favour of the coast line, declare that there are private interests lurking behind the new proposal.

Bernick

Why, then, explain to them——

Vigeland.

It’s no goodourexplaining to them, Consul——

Rummel.

No, no, you must come yourself. Of course no one will dare to suspectyouof anything of that sort.

Lona.

No, I should think not.

Bernick.

I cannot, I tell you; I am unwell;—at any rate wait—let me collect myself.

Doctor Rörlundenters from the right.

Rörlund.

Excuse me, Consul; you see me most painfully agitated——

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