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Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 20

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MRS. HERDAL.

[_Enters through the window, plaintively._] Quite an acquisition for you, Haustus, this Miss Blakdraf!

DR. HERDAL.

She's--h'm--extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting with her, Aline--mainly on _your_ account.

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Evades him._] Was it on my account, indeed, Haustus? You have parted with so many young persons on my account--so you tell me!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Depressed._] Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give Rubub Kalomel notice too--his pill is really too preposterous!

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor._] Him, _too_!

Ah, Haustus, you will never make my home a real home for me. My poor first husband, Halvard Solness, tried--and _he_ couldn't! When one has had such misfortunes as I have--all the family portraits burnt, and the silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls.

[_Chokes with tears._

DR. HERDAL.

[_As if to lead her away from the subject._] Yes, yes, yes, that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor Aline. I can understand that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master Builder Solness to be so taken up with that Miss w.a.n.gel as he was--that, too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did that day ten years ago----

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes, that too, Haustus. But I did not mind it so much--it all seemed so perfectly natural in both of them.

DR. HERDAL.

Natural! For a girl of twenty three to taunt a middle-aged architect, whom she knew to be const.i.tutionally liable to giddiness, never to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as himself--and all for the fun of seeing him fall off--how in the world----!

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch._] The younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, Haustus, and perhaps after all, she was only a perplexing sort of allegory.

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how _he_ could be such an old fool!

MRS. HERDAL.

That Miss w.a.n.gel was a strangely fascinating type of girl. Why, even I myself----

DR. HERDAL.

[_Sits down and takes some fish._] Fascinating? Well, goodness knows, I couldn't see _that_ at all. [_Seriously._] Has it never struck you, Aline, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable--mere bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of course, the Medical Profession.

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined to gangle.

And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you have----

DR. HERDAL.

[_Drinks a gla.s.s of punch._] You're right enough there. If I had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. Ryval, who used to have the leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his shoes as I did. [_Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment._] Let me tell you a funny story, Aline; it sounds a ludicrous thing--but all my good fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr.

Ryval had never taken it----

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Anxiously._] Then you _do_ think it was the pill that caused him to----?

DR. HERDAL.

On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing whatever to do with it--the inquest made it quite clear that it was really the liniment. But don't you see, Aline, what tortures me night and day is the thought that it _might_ unconsciously have been the pill which---- Never to be free from _that_! To have such a thought gnawing and burning always--always, like a moral mustard plaster!

[_He takes more punch._

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on every breast--and we must never take it off either--it is our simple duty to keep it on. I too, Haustus, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss w.a.n.gel were to ring at our bell now----

DR. HERDAL.

After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe enough in some sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she _did_ come? Do you think, my dear good woman, that I--a sensible clear-headed general pract.i.tioner, who have found out all I know for myself--would let her play the deuce with me as she did with poor Halvard? No, general pract.i.tioners don't _do_ such things--even in Norway!

MRS. HERDAL.

Don't they indeed, Haustus? [_The surgery-bell rings loudly._] Did you hear _that_? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is my duty to show her _that_ small attention.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Laughing nervously._] Why, what on earth!---- It's the night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! [MRS. HERDAL _goes out_; Dr.

HERDAL _rises with difficulty, and opens the door_.] Goodness gracious!--it is that girl, after all!

[HILDA w.a.n.gEL _enters through the dispensary door. She wears a divided skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o' Shanter with an eagle's wing in it.

Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a rug in a strap. Goes straight up to_ HERDAL, _her eyes sparkling with happiness_.] How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are up. Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this?

DR. HERDAL.

[_Politely retreating._] It is--very much so--but still I don't in the least understand----

HILDA.

[_Measures him with a glance._] Oh, you _will_. I have come to be of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that _that_ makes any difference. I never _have_. And I've been allured and attracted here.

You surely know how these things come about?

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Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 20 summary

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