Well, it wouldn’t have mattered if you had. If people stand in my way and want to balk me of my future, why, I stick at nothing. FIELDBO. Take care I don’t say the same! STENSGÅRD. You! What right have you to pose as guardian and protector to Chamberlain Bratsberg’s family? FIELDBO. I have at least the right of a friend. STENSGÅRD. Pooh! that sort of talk won’t do with me. Your motive is mere self-interest! It gratifies your petty vanity to imagine yourself cock-of-the-walk in this house; and so I am to be kept outside the pale. FIELDBO. That is the best thing that could happen to you. Here you are standing on hollow ground. STENSGÅRD. Am I indeed? Many thanks! I shall manage to prop it up. FIELDBO. Try; but I warn you, it will fall through with you first. STENSGÅRD. Ho-ho! So you are intriguing against me, are you? I’m glad I have found it out. I know you now; you are my enemy, the only one I have here. FIELDBO. Indeed I am not. STENSGÅRD. Indeed you are! You have always been so, ever since our school-days. Just look around here and see how every one appreciates me, stranger as I am. You, on the other hand, you who know me, have never appreciated me. That is the radical weakness of your character—you can never appreciate any one. What did you do in Christiania but go about from tea-party to tea-party, spreading yourself out in little witticisms? That sort of thing brings its own punishment! You dull your sense for all that makes life worth living, for all that is ennobling and inspiring; and presently you get left behind, fit for nothing. FIELDBO. Am I fit for nothing? STENSGÅRD. Have you ever been fit to appreciate me? FIELDBO. What was I to appreciate in you? STENSGÅRD. My will, if nothing else. Every one else appreciates it—the crowd at the fête yesterday—Chamberlain Bratsberg and his family—— FIELDBO. Mr. Mons Monsen and his ditto——! And by-the-bye, that reminds me—there’s some one out here waiting for you—— STENSGÅRD. Who? FIELDBO. [_Going towards the back._] One who appreciates you. [_Opens the door and calls._] Aslaksen, come in! STENSGÅRD. Aslaksen? ASLAKSEN. [_Entering._] Ah, at last! FIELDBO. Good-bye for the present; I won’t intrude upon friends in council. [_Goes into the garden._ STENSGÅRD.