Why?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Because I had not fort.i.tude enough in misfortune.

HILDA.

But I don't see that--

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh, no, no, Miss w.a.n.gel--do not talk to me any more about the two little boys. We ought to feel nothing but joy in thinking of them; for they are so happy--so happy now. No, it is the small losses in life that cut one to the heart--the loss of all that other people look upon as almost nothing.

HILDA.

[Lays her arms on MRS. SOLNESS'S knees, and looks up at her affectionately.] Dear Mrs. Solness--tell me what things you mean!

MRS. SOLNESS.

As I say, only little things. All the old portraits were burnt on the walls. And all the old silk dresses were burnt, what had belonged to the family for generations and generations. And all mother's and grandmother's lace--that was burnt, too. And only think--the jewels, too! [Sadly.] And then all the dolls.

HILDA.

The dolls?

MRS. SOLNESS.

[Choking with tears.] I had nine lovely dolls.

HILDA.

And they were burnt too?

MRS. SOLNESS.

All of them. Oh, it was hard--so hard for me.

HILDA.

Had you put by all these dolls, then? Ever since you were little?

MRS. SOLNESS.

I had not put them by. The dolls and I had gone on living together.

HILDA.

After you were grown up?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, long after that.

HILDA.

After you were married, too?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh yes, indeed. So long as he did not see it--. But they were all burnt up, poor things. No one thought of saving them. Oh, it is so miserable to think of. You mustn't laugh at me, Miss w.a.n.gel.

HILDA.

I am not laughing in the least.

MRS. SOLNESS.

For you see, in a certain sense, there was life in them, too. I carried them under my heart--like little unborn children.

DR. HERDAL, with his hat in his hand, comes out through the door, and observes MRS. SOLNESS. and HILDA.

DR. HERDAL.

Well, Mrs. Solness, so you are sitting out here catching cold?

MRS. SOLNESS.

I find it so pleasant and warm here to-day.