_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_ REB.). A nice sort of young woman _you_ are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at REB._ _Reb._ (_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 H., with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._ ACT IV. _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 I Why, on earth,--I _can't_ understand! _Reb._ 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-- _Reb._ (_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._ _Reb._ 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! _Reb._ (_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_ (_goes and sits on sofa_). Oh, my goodness, REBECCA--you _mustn't_, you know! [_He jumps up and down as if embarrassed._ _Reb._ Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve,--little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the ROSMER view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The ROSMER view of life is ennobling, very--but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you. _Rosmer_ (_turning it off_). Isn't that enough for one evening P _Reb._ (_almost voiceless_). No, dear. I have a Past--_behind_ me! _Rosmer_. _Behind_ you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. (_Starts, as if in fear._) A joke! (_Sadly._) Ah, no--_no_, I must not give way to _that_! Never mind the Past, REBECCA; I once thought that I had made the grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see now it was too daring, too original--an immature dream. What bothers me is that I can't--somehow I _can't_--believe entirely in you--I am not even sure that I _have_ ennobled you so very much--_isn't_ it terrible?