Yes, Monsen! Champagne-Monsen! Money-Monsen! Let’s have the wine, confound it all! HEIRE. But, my dear sir—— STENSGÅRD. Why, where have you dropped from? MONSEN. I’ve been doing a stroke of business, sir! Cleared a hundred thousand! Hei! To-morrow I’ll give a thundering dinner at Stonelee. I invite you all. Champagne, I say! I congratulate you, Stensgård! I hear you’re elected. STENSGÅRD. Yes; I must explain to you—— MONSEN. Pooh; what does it matter to me? Wine, I say! Where is Madam Rundholmen? [_Makes a motion to go out to the left._ THE MAID-SERVANT. [_Who has just entered, intercepts him._] No one can see the mistress just now; she’s got a letter—— BASTIAN. Oh, damn it all! [_Goes out by the back._ STENSGÅRD. Is she reading it? SERVANT. Yes; and it seems quite to have upset her. STENSGÅRD. Good-bye, Mr. Monsen; dinner at Stonelee to-morrow——? MONSEN. Yes, to-morrow. Good-bye! STENSGÅRD. [_Whispers._] Mr. Heire, will you do me a service? HEIRE. Certainly, certainly. STENSGÅRD. Then just run me down a little to Madam Rundholmen; indulge in an innuendo or two at my expense. You are so good at that sort of thing. HEIRE. What the deuce is the meaning of this? STENSGÅRD. I have my reasons. It’s a joke, you know—a wager with—with some one you have a grudge against. HEIRE. Aha, I understand. I say no more! STENSGÅRD. Don’t go too far, you know. Just place me in a more or less equivocal light—make her a little suspicious of me, for the moment. HEIRE. Rely upon me; it will be a real pleasure to me. STENSGÅRD. Thanks, thanks in advance. [_Goes towards the table._] Mr. Lundestad, we shall meet to-morrow forenoon at the Chamberlain’s. LUNDESTAD. Have you hopes? STENSGÅRD. A threefold hope. LUNDESTAD. Threefold? I don’t understand—— STENSGÅRD. You needn’t. Henceforth I will be my own counsellor. [_Goes out by the back._ MONSEN. [_At the punch-bowl._] Another glass, Aslaksen! Where’s Bastian? ASLAKSEN. He’s just gone out. But I have a letter to deliver for him.