[Illustration] _Reb._ _Not_ the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that White Horse! _Rosmer_. No--the mill-race, where BEATA--(_Puts on his hat--takes it off again._) I'm beginning to be haunted by--no, I _don't_ mean the horse--by a terrible suspicion that BEATA may have been right after all! Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really have been in love with you from the first. Tell me _your_ opinion. _Reb._ (_struggling with herself, and still crocheting._) Oh--I can't exactly say--such an odd question to ask me! _Rosmer_ (_shakes his head_). Perhaps; I have no sense of humour--no respectable Norwegian _has_--and I _do_ want to know--because, you see, if I _was_ in love with you, it was a _sin_, and if I once convinced myself of that-- [_Wanders across the room._ _Reb._ (_breaking out_). Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is your hat, and your stick, too; go and take a walk. [ROSMER takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk; presently Madam HELSETH appears, and tells REBECCA something. REBECCA tells _her_ something. They whisper together. Madam H. nods, and shows in Rector KROLL, who keeps his hat in his hand, and sits on a chair._ _Kroll_. I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider you an artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering your birth and moral antecedents, you know--(_nods at her_)--it is not surprising. (_REBECCA walks about, wringing her hands_) Why, what _is_ the matter? Did you really not know that you had no right to your father's name? I'd no _idea_ you would mind my mentioning such a trifle! _Reb._ (_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? _Reb._ 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!