[_Breaking out._] I _do_ mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain a few little prejudices still. I _don't_ like owning to my real age, and I _do_ prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information--of which I was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. Gamvik, never _once_ alluded to it--I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced women are like that. Here is Rosmer. [ROSMER _enters with his hat and stick._] Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. Let us sit down, dear, all three of us. [_They sit down, mechanically, on chairs._] A long time ago, before the play began--[_in a voice scarcely audible_]--in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow _do_ happen before the play begins---- ROSMER. But, Rebecca, I _know_ all this. KROLL. [_Looks hard at her._] Perhaps I had better go? REBECCA. No--I will be short. This was it. I wanted to take my share in the life of the New Era, and march onward with Rosmer. There was one dismal, insurmountable barrier--[_to_ ROSMER, _who nods gravely_]--Beata! I understood where your deliverance lay--and I acted. _I_ drove Beata into the mill-race.... There! ROSMER. [_After a short silence._] H'm! Well, Kroll--[_takes up his hat_]--if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox once more--after _this!_ KROLL. [_Severely and impressively, to_ REBECCA.] A nice sort of young woman _you_ are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at_ REBECCA. REBECCA. [_Speaks to herself, under her breath._] Now I _have_ done it. I wonder _why_. [_Pulls bell-rope._] Madam Helseth, I have just had a glimpse of two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk. [_Enter_ MADAM HELSETH, _with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._ * * * * * ACT FOUR _Late evening._ REBECCA WEST _stands by a lighted lamp, with a shade over it, packing sandwiches, &c., in a reticule, with a faint smile. The antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter_ ROSMER. ROSMER. [_Seeing the sandwiches, &c._] Sandwiches? Then you _are_ going! Why, on earth--I _can't_ understand! REBECCA. Dear, you never _can_. Rosmershölm is too much for me. But how did you get on with Kroll? ROSMER. We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of ennobling men was several sizes too large for me--so I am going to let it alone---- REBECCA. [_With her faint smile._] There I almost think, dear, that you are wise. ROSMER. [_As if annoyed._] What, so _you_ don't believe in me either, Rebecca--you never _did_! [_Sits listlessly on chair._ REBECCA. Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself--but I've another confession to make. ROSMER. What, _another_? I really can't stand any more confessions just now! REBECCA. [_Sitting close to him._] It is only a little one. I bullied Beata into the mill-race--because of a wild uncontrollable---- [ROSMER _moves uneasily._] Sit still, dear--uncontrollable fancy--for _you_! ROSMER.