CATHERINE rises with an entire change of manner—­takes a bright red blossom from the vase on PETER’S desk—­then deliberately walks to the door of the room in which JAMES is working. PETER follows her action hopefully.  She does not tap on the door, however, but turns and sits at the piano—­in thought—­not facing the piano.  She puts PETER’S flowers against her face.  Then, laying the flowers on the piano, sings softly three or four bars of the song she sang in the first act—­and stops abruptly.

CATHERINE. [To herself.] That I should sit here singing—­at a time like this!

PETER.  Sing!  Sing!  Why not?  Lift up your voice like a bird!  Your old uncle doesn’t sleep out there in the dust.  That’s only the dream.  He’s here—­ here—­alive.  All his age gone and youth glowing in his heart.  If I could only tell you what lies before you—­before us all!  If people even suspected what the next life really is, they wouldn’t waste time here—­I can tell you that.  They’d do dreadful things to get away from this existence—­make for the nearest pond or—­[Pausing abruptly.] Ah, here comes someone who’ll know all about it! [The DOCTOR comes from WILLIAM’S room. PETER greets him in a cordial but casual way, as though he had parted from him only an hour before.] Well, Andrew, I apologize. [Bowing obsequiously.] You were right.  I apologize.

CATHERINE.  How is he, Doctor?

DR. MACPHERSON.  William is better.  Dropped off to sleep again.  Can’t quite understand him.

PETER.  I apologize.  I said that if I could come back, I would; and here I am—­apologizing.  Andrew!  Andrew! [Trying to attract DR. MACPHERSON’S attention.] I have a message, but I can’t get it across.  This is your chance.  I want you to take it.  I don’t wish Catherine to marry Frederik.

DR. MACPHERSON.  He’s somewhat feverish yet.

PETER.  Can’t you understand one word?

DR. MACPHERSON.  It’s a puzzling case....

PETER.  What?  Mine?

DR. MACPHERSON. [Getting a pad from his pocket—­writing out a prescription with his fountain pen.] I’ll leave this prescription at the druggist’s—­

PETER.  I’m quite shut out....  They’ve closed the door and turned the key on me.

DR. MACPHERSON. [Suddenly noticing that CATHERINE seems more cheerful.] What’s happened?  I left you in tears and here you are—­all smiles.

CATHERINE.  Yes, I—­I am happier—­for some reason....  For the last few minutes I—­I’ve had such a strange feeling.

DR. MACPHERSON.  That’s odd:  so have I!  Been as restless as a hungry mouse.  Something seemed to draw me down here—­can’t explain it.

PETER.  I’m beginning to be felt in this house.

DR. MACPHERSON.  Catherine, I have the firm conviction that, in a very short time, I shall hear from Peter. [Sitting at the table.