ENGSTRAND. A regular high-cla.s.s affair, of course; not any sort of pig-sty for common sailors. No! d.a.m.n it! it would be for captains and mates, and--and--regular swells, you know.

REGINA. And I was to--?

ENGSTRAND. You were to help, to be sure. Only for the look of the thing, you understand. Devil a bit of hard work shall you have, my girl. You shall do exactly what you like.

REGINA. Oh, indeed!

ENGSTRAND. But there must be a petticoat in the house; that's as clear as daylight. For I want to have it a bit lively like in the evenings, with singing and dancing, and so on. You must remember they're weary wanderers on the ocean of life. [Nearer.] Now don't be a fool and stand in your own light, Regina. What's to become of you out here? Your mistress has given you a lot of learning; but what good is that to you?

You're to look after the children at the new Orphanage, I hear. Is that the sort of thing for you, eh? Are you so dead set on wearing your life out for a pack of dirty brats?

REGINA. No; if things go as I want them to--Well there's no saying--there's no saying.

ENGSTRAND. What do you mean by "there's no saying"?

REGINA. Never you mind.--How much money have you saved?

ENGSTRAND. What with one thing and another, a matter of seven or eight hundred crowns. [A "krone" is equal to one shilling and three-halfpence.]

REGINA. That's not so bad.

ENGSTRAND. It's enough to make a start with, my girl.

REGINA. Aren't you thinking of giving me any?

ENGSTRAND. No, I'm blest if I am!

REGINA. Not even of sending me a sc.r.a.p of stuff for a new dress?

ENGSTRAND. Come to town with me, my la.s.s, and you'll soon get dresses enough.

REGINA. Pooh! I can do that on my own account, if I want to.

ENGSTRAND. No, a father's guiding hand is what you want, Regina. Now, I've got my eye on a capital house in Little Harbour Street. They don't want much ready-money; and it could be a sort of a Sailors' Home, you know.

REGINA. But I will not live with you! I have nothing whatever to do with you. Be off!

ENGSTRAND. You wouldn't stop long with me, my girl. No such luck! If you knew how to play your cards, such a fine figure of a girl as you've grown in the last year or two--

REGINA. Well?

ENGSTRAND. You'd soon get hold of some mate--or maybe even a captain--

REGINA. I won't marry any one of that sort. Sailors have no _savoir vivre_.

ENGSTRAND. What's that they haven't got?

REGINA. I know what sailors are, I tell you. They're not the sort of people to marry.

ENGSTRAND. Then never mind about marrying them. You can make it pay all the same. [More confidentially.] He--the Englishman--the man with the yacht--he came down with three hundred dollars, he did; and she wasn't a bit handsomer than you.

REGINA. [Making for him.] Out you go!

ENGSTRAND. [Falling back.] Come, come! You're not going to hit me, I hope.

REGINA. Yes, if you begin talking about mother I shall hit you. Get away with you, I say! [Drives him back towards the garden door.] And don't slam the doors. Young Mr. Alving--

ENGSTRAND. He's asleep; I know. You're mightily taken up about young Mr.

Alving--[More softly.] Oho! you don't mean to say it's him as--?

REGINA. Be off this minute! You're crazy, I tell you! No, not that way.

There comes Pastor Manders. Down the kitchen stairs with you.

ENGSTRAND. [Towards the right.] Yes, yes, I'm going. But just you talk to him as is coming there. He's the man to tell you what a child owes its father. For I am your father all the same, you know. I can prove it from the church register.

[He goes out through the second door to the right, which REGINA has opened, and closes again after him. REGINA glances hastily at herself in the mirror, dusts herself with her pocket handkerchief; and settles her necktie; then she busies herself with the flowers.]

[PASTOR MANDERS, wearing an overcoat, carrying an umbrella, and with a small travelling-bag on a strap over his shoulder, comes through the garden door into the conservatory.]

MANDERS. Good-morning, Miss Engstrand.

REGINA. [Turning round, surprised and pleased.] No, really! Good morning, Pastor Manders. Is the steamer in already?

MANDERS. It is just in. [Enters the sitting-room.] Terrible weather we have been having lately.

REGINA. [Follows him.] It's such blessed weather for the country, sir.

MANDERS. No doubt; you are quite right. We townspeople give too little thought to that. [He begins to take of his overcoat.]

REGINA. Oh, mayn't I help you?--There! Why, how wet it is? I'll just hang it up in the hall. And your umbrella, too--I'll open it and let it dry.

[She goes out with the things through the second door on the right.

PASTOR MANDERS takes off his travelling bag and lays it and his hat on a chair. Meanwhile REGINA comes in again.]

MANDERS. Ah, it's a comfort to get safe under cover. I hope everything is going on well here?

REGINA. Yes, thank you, sir.

MANDERS. You have your hands full, I suppose, in preparation for to-morrow?

REGINA. Yes, there's plenty to do, of course.

MANDERS. And Mrs. Alving is at home, I trust?

REGINA. Oh dear, yes. She's just upstairs, looking after the young master's chocolate.

MANDERS. Yes, by-the-bye--I heard down at the pier that Oswald had arrived.

REGINA. Yes, he came the day before yesterday. We didn't expect him before to-day.