THORA. I? No. SELMA. Oh, but I’m sure you must be; you seem to be always consulting the doctor of late. THORA. No, I assure you—— SELMA. Nonsense; let me feel your pulse! You are burning. My dear Doctor, don’t you think the fever will pass over? FIELDBO. Everything has its time. THORA. Would you rather have me freezing——? SELMA. No, a medium temperature is the best—ask my husband. THE CHAMBERLAIN. [_Enters from the garden._] The whole family gathered in secret conclave? That’s not very polite to the guests. THORA. I am just going, father dear—— THE CHAMBERLAIN. Aha, it is you the ladies are paying court to, Mr. Stensgård! I must look to this. THORA. [_Softly to_ FIELDBO.] Remain here! [_She goes into the garden._ ERIK. [_Offers_ SELMA _his arm._] Has Madame any objection——? SELMA. Come! [_They go out to the right._ THE CHAMBERLAIN. [_Looking after them._] It’s impossible to get these two separated. FIELDBO. It would be sinful to try. THE CHAMBERLAIN. Fools that we are! How Providence blesses us in spite of ourselves. [_Calls out._] Thora, Thora, do look after Selma! Get a shawl for her, and don’t let her run about so: she’ll catch cold! How short-sighted we mortals are, Doctor! Do you know any cure for that disease? FIELDBO. The spectacles of experience; through them you will see more clearly a second time. THE CHAMBERLAIN. You don’t say so! Thanks for the advice. But since you feel yourself at home here, you must really pay a little attention to your guests. FIELDBO. Certainly; come, Stensgård, shall we——? THE CHAMBERLAIN. Oh, no, no—there’s my old friend Heire out there—— FIELDBO. He thinks himself at home here too. THE CHAMBERLAIN. Ha ha ha! So he does. FIELDBO. Well, we two will join forces, and do our best. [_Goes into the garden._ STENSGÅRD. You were speaking of Daniel Heire, Chamberlain. I must say I was rather surprised to see him here. THE CHAMBERLAIN. Were you? Mr. Heire and I are old school and college friends. Besides, we have had a good deal to do with each other in many ways since——