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Aline and I lived there in the first years of our married life. There was an old house up there that had belonged to her mother; and we inherited it, and the whole of the great garden with it.
HILDA.
Was there a tower on that house, too?
SOLNESS.
No, nothing of the kind. From the outside it looked like a great, dark, ugly wooden box; but all the same, it was snug and comfortable enough inside.
HILDA.
Then did you pull down the ramshackle old place?
SOLNESS.
No, it was burnt down.
HILDA.
The whole of it?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
Was that a great misfortune for you?
SOLNESS.
That depends on how you look at it. As a builder, the fire was the making of me--
HILDA.
Well, but--
SOLNESS.
It was just after the birth of the two little boys--
HILDA.
The poor little twins, yes.
SOLNESS.
They came healthy and bonny into the world. And they were growing too--you could see the difference day to day.
HILDA.
Little children do grow quickly at first.
SOLNESS.
It was the prettiest sight in the world to see Aline lying with the two of them in her arms.--But then came the night of the fire--
HILDA.
[Excitedly.] What happened? Do tell me! Was any one burnt?
SOLNESS.
No, not that. Every one got safe and sound out of the house--
HILDA.
Well, and what then--?
SOLNESS.
The fright had shaken Aline terribly. The alarm--the escape--the break-neck hurry--and then the ice-cold night air--for they had to be carried out just as they lay--both she and the little ones.
HILDA.
Was it too much for them?
SOLNESS.
