Erna (Running to window).—Steward!
(Bara goes out. The steward’s voice is heard from the court.)
Steward (Outside).—At your service, your ladyship.
Erna.—Where is your master?
Steward (Outside).—Which one?
Erna.—Which one? My husband, of course!
Steward (Outside)—To be sure, I beg your pardon. I humbly beg to inform her ladyship that master has ridden out to the oat fields to see that all hands left off on the oats and got at the wheat.
Erna.—Send to the fields at once and request that he come home right away, that I have sent for him (Leaves window and hurries to Bara). Bara, the scissors, quick. (Seeing that Bara is out, she begins to look for shears herself.)
Steward (Outside).—I say, George—Matt, don’t bale any of that green hay today; that would be worse for the mow than if it had got wet. There must be about thirteen bales of the stuff yet. (His voice sounds farther and farther away.) Matt . . . tell your boss, and see that he gets it straight.
Erna (Having failed to find scissors) —My God! (She tries to untie the package with her fingers and teeth, but fails. She rings the bell violently. No one answers it. Striding to the door, she jerks it open and shouts.) Bara! What the deuce have you done with my sewing basket? You . . . you . . . nitchtswurdige person.
Lena (Clasping her hands pleadingly).—Erna!
(Bara comes in, looks about vainly, then striking herself on the forehead dramatically, hurries into Erna’s chamber.)
Erna.—Lena, you poor little soul, I forgot all about you and your kind heart. Come here to me—come to your humble administratrix. (She leads Erna from the door to her couch.)
(Lena, after a show of resistance, lets Erna treat her as she will. She presses her palms to her temples.)
Lena.—What a head! Dear me!
Erna.—Oh, forgive. I shan’t yell any more. But when they bring a woman a gown, and she cannot untie the twine, nor break it, nor bite it in two, and when she cannot find her scissors, which she had a moment before . . .
Lena (Reviving)—A gown? For the casino this evening? Let me untie it for you. (She feels after the package, finds it, and without effort unties the string.) See there?
Erna.—Well, well! You are better at untying knots than I
