I don’t know what it is.  She acts as if she didn’t want to bring her child into the world.  She talks wild.  I tell you I must have that child, Amelia!  I cannot live else.  Hedwig frightens me.  The other night I found her sitting on the edge of her bed staring,—­when she should have been asleep,—­as if she saw visions, and whispering, “I will send a message to the emperor.”  What message?  I had to shake her out of it.  She refuses to make a thing for her baby.  Says, “Wait till I see what they do to Franz.”  It’s unnatural.

Amelia:

I can’t understand her.  I never could.  I always thought it was because she was a factory-town girl.

Mother:

If anything should happen to Franz in the state she’s in now, Hedwig might go out of her mind entirely.  So you had best stay by, Amelia.  We must keep a close eye on her.

[There is a knock at the door.]

Who’s that?

Amelia: [Looks out of the windows, and then whispers.]

It’s Hans Hoffman.

[The knock is repeated.]

Mother:

Open, girl!  Don’t stand there!

[Enter Hoffman, gay, familiar, inclined to stoutness, but good-looking.  Accustomed to having the women bow down to him.]

Hoffman:

[To Amelia.] Ah, ha!  You gave me the slip yesterday!

Amelia:

My mother.

Hoffman: [Nodding.]

Good day, Mother. [She curtsies.]

[Coming closer to Amelia.]

Where did you run to?  Here she as good as promised me she would wed me to-day, Mother, and then—­

Amelia:

Oh, no!

Hoffman:

Yes, you did.  You let me kiss you.

Amelia: [Taken aback.]

Oh, sir!

Hoffman:

And when I got to the church square to-day, no bride for Hans Hoffman.  Well, I must say, they had the laugh on me; for I had told them I had found the girl for me—­the prettiest bride of the lot.  But to-morrow—­

Amelia:

I can’t.

Hoffman: [Taking hold of her.]

Oh, yes, you can.  I won’t bother you long.  I’m off to the front any day now.  Come, promise me!  What do you say, Mother?

Mother: [Slowly.]

I should like to see her wed.

Hoffman:

There!

Amelia: [Shrinking from both him and the idea.]

But I don’t know you well enough yet.

Hoffman:

Well, look me over.  Don’t you think I am good enough for her, Mother?  Besides, we can’t stop to think of such things now, Amelia.  It is war-time.  This is an emergency measure.  And, then, I’m a soldier—­like to die for my country.  That ought to count for something—­a good deal, I should say—­if you love your country, and you do, don’t you, Amelia?