Ghosts

tell you. They’re not the sort of people to marry. Engstrand Then never mind about marrying them. You can make it pay all the same. More confidentially. He⁠—the Englishman⁠—the man with the yacht⁠—he came down with three hundred dollars, he did; and she wasn’t a bit handsomer than you. Regina Making for him. Out you go! Engstrand Falling back. Come, come! You’re not going to hit me, I hope. Regina Yes, if you begin talking about mother I shall hit you. Get away with you, I say! Drives him back towards the garden door. And don’t slam the doors. Young Mr. Alving⁠— Engstrand He’s asleep; I know. You’re mightily taken up about young Mr. Alving⁠—More softly. Oho! you don’t mean to say it’s him as⁠—? Regina Be off this minute! You’re crazy, I tell you! No, not that way. There comes Pastor Manders. Down the kitchen stairs with you. Engstrand Towards the right. Yes, yes, I’m going. But just you talk to him as is coming there. He’s the man to tell you what a child owes its father. For I am your father all the same, you know. I can prove it from the church register. He goes out through the second door to the right, which Regina has opened, and closes again after him. Regina glances hastily at herself in the mirror, dusts herself with her pocket handkerchief; and settles her necktie; then she busies herself with the flowers. Pastor Manders, wearing an overcoat, carrying an umbrella, and with a small travelling bag on a strap over his shoulder, comes through the garden door into the conservatory. Manders Good morning, Miss Engstrand. Regina Turning round, surprised and pleased. No, really! Good morning, Pastor Manders. Is the steamer in already? Manders It is just in. Enters the sitting-room. Terrible weather we have been having lately. Regina Follows him. It’s such blessed weather for the country, sir. Manders No doubt; you are quite right. We townspeople give too little thought to that. He begins to take off his overcoat. Regina Oh, mayn’t I help you?⁠—There! Why, how wet it is? I’ll just hang it up in the hall. And your umbrella, too⁠—I’ll open it and let it dry. She goes out with the things through the second door on the right. Pastor Manders takes off his travelling bag and lays it and his hat on a chair. Meanwhile Regina comes in again. Manders Ah, it’s a comfort to get safe under cover. I hope everything is going on well here? Regina Yes, thank you, sir. Manders You have your hands full, I suppose, in preparation for tomorrow? Regina Yes, there’s plenty to do, of course. Manders And Mrs. Alving is at home, I trust? Regina Oh dear, yes. She’s just upstairs, looking after the young master’s chocolate. Manders Yes, by the by⁠—I heard down at the pier that Oswald had arrived. Regina Yes, he came the day before yesterday. We didn’t expect him before today. Manders Quite strong and well, I hope? Regina Yes, thank you, quite; but dreadfully tired with the journey. He has made one rush right through from Paris⁠—the whole way in one train, I believe. He’s sleeping a little now, I think; so perhaps we’d better talk a little quietly. Manders Sh!⁠—as quietly as you please. Regina Arranging an armchair beside the table. Now, do sit down, Pastor Manders, and make yourself comfortable. He sits down; she places a footstool under his feet. There! Are you comfortable now, sir? Manders Thanks, thanks, extremely so. Looks at her. Do you know, Miss Engstrand, I positively believe you have grown since I last saw you. Regina Do you think so, Sir? Mrs. Alving says I’ve filled out too. Manders Filled out? Well, perhaps a little; just enough. Short pause. Regina Shall I tell Mrs. Alving you are here? Manders Thanks, thanks, there is no hurry, my dear child.⁠—By the by, Regina, my good girl, tell me: how is your father getting on out here? Regina Oh, thank you, sir, he’s getting on well enough. Manders He called upon me last time he was in town. Regina Did he, indeed? He’s always so glad of a chance of talking to you, sir. Manders And you often look in upon him at his work, I daresay? Regina I? Oh, of course, when I have time, I⁠— Manders Your father is not a man of strong character, Miss Engstrand. He stands terribly in need of a guiding hand. Regina Oh, yes; I daresay he does. Manders He requires someone near him whom he cares for, and whose judgment he respects. He frankly admitted as much when he last came to see me. Regina Yes, he mentioned something of the sort to me. But I don’t know whether Mrs. Alving can spare me; especially now that we’ve got the new Orphanage to attend to. And then I should be so sorry to leave Mrs. Alving; she has always been so kind to me. Manders But a daughter’s duty, my good girl⁠—Of course, we should first have to get your mistress’s consent. Regina But I don’t know whether it would be quite proper for me, at my age, to keep house for a single man. Manders What! My dear Miss Engstrand! When the man is your own father! Regina Yes, that may be; but all the same⁠—Now, if it were in a thoroughly nice house, and with a real gentleman⁠— Manders Why, my dear Regina⁠— Regina —one I could love and respect, and be a daughter to⁠— Manders Yes, but my dear, good child⁠— Regina Then I should be glad to go to town. It’s very lonely out here; you know yourself, sir, what it is to be alone in the world. And I can assure you I’m both quick and willing. Don’t you know of any such place for me, sir? Manders I? No, certainly not. Regina But, dear, dear Sir, do remember me if⁠— Manders Rising. Yes, yes, certainly, Miss Engstrand. Regina For if I⁠— Manders Will you be so good as to tell your mistress I am here? Regina I will, at once, sir. She goes out to the left. Manders Paces the room two or three times, stands a