tte. Then why are you always going about with him?

Hilde. Oh, I only do that because of the weakness.

Bolette. I've never noticed that you in the least pity him for it!

Hilde. No, I don't. But I think it so interesting.

Bolette. What is?

Hilde. To look at him and make him tell you it isn't dangerous; and that
he's going abroad, and is to be an artist. He really believes it all,
and is so thoroughly happy about it. And yet nothing will ever come of
it; nothing whatever. For he won't live long enough. I feel that's so
fascinating to think of.

Bolette. Fascinating!

Hilde. Yes, I think it's most fascinating. I take that liberty.

Bolette. Hilde, you really are a dreadful child!

Hilde. That's just what I want to be--out of spite. (Looking down.) At
last! I shouldn't think Arnholm liked coming up-hill. (Turns round.) By
the way, do you know what I noticed about Arnholm at dinner?

Bolette. Well?

Hilde. Just think--his hair's beginning to come off--right on the top of
his head.

Bolette. Nonsense! I'm sure that's not true.

Hilde. It is! And then he has wrinkles round both his eyes. Good
gracious, Bolette, how could you be so much in love with him when he
used to read with you?

Bolette (smiling). Yes. Can you believe it? I remember I once shed
bitter tears because he thought Bolette was an ugly name.

Hilde. Only to think! (Looking down.) No! I say, do just look down here!
There's the "Mermaid" walking along and chatting with him. Not with
father. I wonder if those two aren't making eyes at one another.

Bolette. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! How can you stand there
and say such a thing of her? Now, when everything was beginning to be so
pleasant between us.

Hilde. Of course--just try and persuade yourself of that, my child! Oh,
no! It will never be pleasant between us and her. For she doesn't belong
to us at all. And we don't belong to her either. Goodness knows what
father dragged her into the house for! I shouldn't wonder if some fine
day she went mad under our very eyes.

Bolette. Mad! How can you think such a thing?

Hilde. Oh! it wouldn't be so extraordinary. Her mother went mad, too.
She died mad--I know that.

Bolette. Yes, heaven only knows what you don't poke your nose into. But
now don't go chattering about this. Do be good--for father's sake. Do
you hear, Hilde?

(WANGEL, ELLIDA, ARNHOLM and LYNGSTRAND come up from the right.)

Ellida (pointing to the background). Out t