Bernick (grasping his hands again): But still you must let me thank you! Not one in ten thousand would have done what you did for me.
Johan: Rubbish! Weren't we, both of us, young and thoughtless?
One of us had to take the blame, you know.
Bernick: But surely the guilty one was the proper one to do that?
Johan: Stop! At the moment the innocent one happened to be the proper one to do it. Remember, I had no ties--I was an orphan; it was a lucky chance to get free from the drudgery of the office.
You, on the other hand, had your old mother still alive; and, besides that, you had just become secretly engaged to Betty, who was devoted to you. What would have happened between you and her if it had come to her ears?
Bernick: That is true enough, but still--Johan: And wasn't it just for Betty's sake that you broke off your acquaintance with Mrs. Dorf? Why, it was merely in order to put an end to the whole thing that you were up there with her that evening.
Bernick: Yes, that unfortunate evening when that drunken creature came home! Yes, Johan, it was for Betty's sake; but, all the same, it was splendid of you to let all the appearances go against you, and to go away.
Johan: Put your scruples to rest, my dear Karsten. We agreed that it should be so; you had to be saved, and you were my friend. I can tell you, I was uncommonly proud of that friendship. Here was I, drudging away like a miserable stick-in-the-mud, when you came back from your grand tour abroad, a great swell who had been to London and to Paris; and you chose me for your chum, although I was four years younger than you--it is true it was because you were courting Betty, I understand that now--but I was proud of it! Who would not have been? Who would not willingly have sacrificed himself for you?--especially as it only meant a month's talk in the town, and enabled me to get away into the wide world.
Bernick: Ah, my dear Johan, I must be candid and tell you that the story is not so completely forgotten yet.
Johan: Isn't it? Well, what does that matter to me, once I am back over there on my farm again?
Bernick: Then you mean to go back?
Johan: Of course.
Bernick: But not immediately, I hope?
Johan: As soon as possible. It was only to humour Lona that I came over with her, you know.
Bernick: Really? How so?
Johan: Well, you see, Lona is no longer young, and lately she began to be obsessed with home-sickness; but she never would admit it. (Smiles.) How could she venture to risk leaving such a flighty fellow as me alone, who before I was nineteen had been mixed up in...
Bernick: Well, what then?
Johan: Well, Karsten, now I am coming to a confession that I am ashamed to make.
Bernick: You surely haven't confided the truth to her?
Johan: Yes. It was wrong of me, but I could not do otherwise. You can have no conception what Lona has been to me. You never could put up with her; but she has been like a mother to me. The first year we were out there, when things went so badly with us, you have no idea how she worked! And when I was ill for a long time, and could earn nothing and could not prevent her, she took to singing ballads in taverns, and gave lectures that people laughed at; and then she wrote a book that she has both laughed and cried over since then--all to keep the life in me. Could I look on when in the winter she, who had toiled and drudged for me, began to pine away? No, Karsten, I couldn't. And so I said, "You go home for a trip, Lona; don't be afraid for me, I am not so flighty as you think." And so--the end of it was that she had to know.
Bernick: And how did she take it?
Johan: Well, she thought, as was true, that as I knew I was innocent nothing need prevent me from taking a trip over here with her. But make your mind easy; Lona will let nothing out, and I shall keep my mouth shut as I did before.
Bernick: Yes, yes I rely on that.
Johan: Here is my hand on it. And now we will say no more about that old story; luckily it is the only mad prank either of us has been guilty of, I am sure. I want thoroughly to enjoy the few days I shall stay here. You cannot think what a delightful walk we had this morning. Who would have believed that that little imp, who used to run about here and play angels' parts on the stage--! But tell me, my dear fellow, what became of her parents afterwards?
Bernick: Oh, my boy, I can tell you no more than I wrote to you immediately after you went away. I suppose you got my two letters?
Johan: Yes, yes, I have them both. So that drunken fellow deserted her?
Bernick: And drank himself to death afterwards.
Johan: And she died soon afterwards, too?
Bernick: She was proud; she betrayed nothing, and would accept nothing.
Johan: Well, at all events you did the right thing by taking Dina into your house.
Bernick: I suppose so. As a matter of fact it was Martha that brought that about.
Johan: So it was Martha? By the way, where is she today?
Bernick: She? Oh, when she hasn't her school to look after, she has her sick people to see to.
Johan: So it was Martha who interested herself in her.
Bernick: Yes, you know Martha has always had a certain liking for teaching; so she took a post in the boarding-school. It was very ridiculous of her.
Johan: I thought she looked very worn yesterday; I should be afraid her health was not good enough for it.
Bernick: Oh, as far as her health goes, it is all right enough.
But it is unpleasant for me; it looks as though I, her brother, were not willing to support her.
Johan: Support her? I thought she had means enough of her own.
Bernick: Not a penny. Surely you remember how badly off our mother was when you went away? She carried things on for a time with my assistance, but naturally I could not put up with that state of affairs permanently. I made her take me into the firm, but even then things did not go well. So I had to take over the whole business myself, and when we made up our balance-sheet, it became evident that there was practically nothing left as my mother's share. And when mother died soon afterwards, of course Martha was left penniless.
Johan: Poor Martha!
