[Illustration:  ALFRED RETHEL DEATH AS CUP-BEARER]

LEONARD.

I cannot yet regret it.  I knew it was the only way I could have kept you to myself.  The old girlhood love was opening its eyes again, and I could not close them quickly enough!

CLARA.

When I got home, I found my mother ill, mortally ill.  She had been stricken suddenly, as if by an invisible hand.  My father had wanted to send for me, but she would not consent to his doing so, not wishing to interrupt my happiness.  And how I felt when I heard that!  I held myself aloof, I did not dare to touch her, I trembled!  She took it for childish anxiety and motioned me over to her; when I slowly drew near her, she held me down and kissed my desecrated mouth.  I lost control of myself; I wanted to confess to her, to cry out what I thought and felt:  It is my fault that you are lying there!  I tried to do so, but tears and sobs choked my voice.  She reached for my father’s hand, and said with a blissful glance at me:  What a heart!

LEONARD.

She is well again.  I have come to congratulate her, and—­what do you think?

CLARA.

What?

LEONARD.

To ask your father for your hand.

CLARA.

Oh!

LEONARD.

Don’t you want me to?

CLARA.

Want you to?  It will mean my death, if I do not become your wife pretty soon!  But you do not know my father!  He does not understand why we are in such a hurry—­he cannot understand why, and we cannot tell him why!  And he has declared a hundred times that he will never give his daughter to any man unless he has not only, as he says, love in his heart for her, but also bread in his cupboard for her.  He will say:  Wait another year or two, my son.—­And what will be your answer?

LEONARD.  You foolish girl, that difficulty is disposed of!  I have the position now—­I am cashier!

CLARA.

You cashier?  And the other applicant, the pastor’s nephew?

LEONARD.

Was drunk when he came to the examination, bowed to the stove instead of to the burgomaster, and when he sat down knocked three cups off the table.  You know how hot-headed the old fellow is.  “Sir!” he exclaimed angrily, but he restrained himself and bit his lip.  Nevertheless his eyes glared through his spectacles like the eyes of a serpent about to spring, and his whole body became rigid.  Then we started computing and, ha! ha!—­my rival computed with a multiplication table of his own invention that gave entirely new results.  “He’s way off in his reckoning!” said the burgomaster, and, glancing in my direction, held out his hand to me with the appointment.  It smelled terribly of tobacco, but I took it and raised it humbly to my lips.—­Here it is now, signed and sealed!

CLARA.

That comes—­

LEONARD.

Unexpectedly, doesn’t it?  Well, it was not altogether an accident either.  Why didn’t I come to see you for two weeks?