room is lighted through a large, ornamental bay window at right, with cushioned window seat and chairs. In the center, on a massive table, supper is spread for three. Above this table is a large, ornamental lamp on pulleys. From the rim of the lamp shade hangs a fringe of green paper.
It is twilight of a hot, windy day. Through the bay window the low sun now and then casts a gloomy reflection on the wall opposite as clouds come and go in the crimson west. A loose oval pane in the window rattles ominously whenever a gust of the gradually subsiding wind strikes it.
Erna is seated in the window with a large, profusely illustrated bound volume of a German family magazine out of which she reads in a weary monotone. Lena is reclining on the divan in the alcove. She wears green glasses.
Erna (Reading).—Baron Bodo Von Dunkelhorst hob eine der schweren blonden Prachtflechten, die einer gläzend goldenen Stola gleichend ihre zarte Brust drückten, kusste ihr Haar innig und sagte mit suss verhaucher Stimme: “Willst du die Meiner werden?” “Ja, ewig dein” lispelte kaum vernehmlich im holden Schauer erbebend und jah’ errotend Sofie. . Fortsetzung folgt. (Smothers a yawn.)
Lena.—Well then?
(Erna not to be distracted from her leisurely turning of the pages. She studies the illustrations. The sunshine gradually fades, and then the walls take on a still more gloomy aspect.)
Lena.—Why don’t you read on?
(Erna only slams the book shut and skips down from the window platform into the room.) (Lena, startled, sits upright.)
Erna.—Forgive me! You didn’t used to be so easily frightened.
Lena (Softly)—You did startle me. Why did you stop? What time is it?
Erna (Shivering and wrapping herself closely into her crocheted plaid).—Pretty close to seven. What makes you so excitable tonight, Lena? (She puts her hand on Lena’s forehead.)
Lena (Still more agitated)—I am not so excitable. But I hear you turn the pages, I pateiently wait for you to find the next sentence, and—bang! You know how I love your contralto. Your voice sounds like music. I am sorry that you never read to me in your native tongue.
Erna.—Hm, Gotteswillen! My native tongue? Listen, here, Lena. You know very well that I am German by birth as
