Now, Fieldbo, up come the dregs of your nature again. Can you never shake off that polluting habit of thought? Why must you always assume mean or ridiculous motives for everything? Oh, you are not serious! Now you look good and true again. I’ll tell you the real root of the matter. Do you know Ragna? FIELDBO. Ragna Monsen? Oh, after a fashion—at second hand. STENSGÅRD. Yes, I know she is sometimes at the Chamberlain’s. FIELDBO. In a quiet way, yes. She and Miss Bratsberg are old schoolfellows. STENSGÅRD. And what do you think of her? FIELDBO. Why, from all I have heard she seems to be a very good girl. STENSGÅRD. Oh, you should see her in her home! She thinks of nothing but her two little sisters. And how devotedly she must have nursed her mother! You know the mother was out of her mind for some years before she died. FIELDBO. Yes; I was their doctor at one time. But surely, my dear fellow, you don’t mean that—— STENSGÅRD. Yes, Fieldbo, I love her truly; to you I can confess it. Oh, I know what you are surprised at. You think it strange that so soon after—of course you know that I was engaged in Christiania? FIELDBO. Yes, so I was told. STENSGÅRD. The whole thing was a disappointment. I _had_ to break it off; it was best for all parties. Oh, how I suffered in that affair! The torture, the sense of oppression I endured——! Now, thank heaven, I am out of it all. That was my reason for leaving town. FIELDBO. And with regard to Ragna Monsen, are you quite sure of yourself? STENSGÅRD. Yes, I am indeed. There’s no mistake possible in this case. FIELDBO. Well, then, in heaven’s name, go in and win! It means your life’s happiness! Oh, there’s so much I could say to you—— STENSGÅRD. Really? Has she said anything? Has she confided in Miss Bratsberg? FIELDBO. No; that’s not what I mean. But how can you, in the midst of your happiness, go and fuddle yourself in these political orgies? _How_ can town tattle take any hold upon a mind that is—— STENSGÅRD. Why not? Man is a complex machine—I am, at any rate. Besides, my way to her lies through these very party turmoils. FIELDBO. A terribly prosaic way. STENSGÅRD. Fieldbo, I am ambitious; you know I am. I must make my way in the world. When I remember that I’m thirty, and am still on the first round of the ladder, I feel my conscience gnawing at me. FIELDBO. Not with its wisdom teeth.