right. It appears that a woman has pare her dying father or to save her I don't believe that. ou talk like a child. You don't underiety in which you live. I don't. But I shall try to. I must mind which is right-society or I. Nora, you are ill, you are feverish. I you are out of your senses. ave never felt so much clearness and o-night. You are clear and certain enough to forand children? i, I am. Then there is only one explanation pos at is that? You no longer love me. that is just it. Nora! Can you say so? , I'm so sorry, Torvald; for you've al o kind to me. you any longer. But I can't help it. I keeping his composure with difficulty]. lear and certain on this point too? s, quite. That is why I won't stay here And can you also make clear to me how ted your love? -s, I can. It was this evening, when the not happen; for then I saw you were I had taken you for. Explain yourself more clearly: I don't have waited so patiently all these eight es the miracle !" When Krogstad's letter e box, it never occurred to me that you nk of submitting to that man's conditions. vinced that you would say to him, “Make to all the world"; and that then-Well? When I had given my own wife's co disgrace and shame-? Then I firmly believed that you would vard, take everything upon yourself, and n the guilty one." -Nora! You mean I would never have accepted such ? No, certainly not. But what would my have been worth in opposition to yours? the miracle that I hoped for and dreaded. s to hinder that that I wanted to die. Heimer.-I Nora.-Per You. Helmer.-' 10: I can't Nora [goin the thing things ats on a ch Helmer.-1 orrow. -I would gladly work for you day and a,-bear sorrow and want for your sake,— an sacrifices his honor, even, for one he Millions of women have done so. Nora [put a strange Helmer.ister? Nora [fas -Oh, you think and talk like a silly child. Very likely. But you neither think nor he man I can share my life with. When r was over,—not for me, but for yourself, ere was nothing more to fear, then it was ; though nothing had happened. I was again, your doll-whom you would take uch care of in the future, because she was id fragile. [Stands up.] Torvald, in that burst upon me that I had been living here t years with a strange man and had borne children. Oh! I can't bear to think of 1 tear myself to pieces! [sadly].-I see it, I see it; an abyss has at wouldn' on't go to Cands than D them. Helmer.-E Nora.-Ho ecome of m Helmer.-E Nora-Lis sband's hou e eyes of th er. At any Just not feel here must There, there Helmer. Tora-Th Helmer. have strength to become another man. haps-when your doll is taken away To part-to part from you! No, Nora, grasp the thought. ag into room, right].-The more reason to happen. [She comes back with outand a small traveling-bag, which she air.] Nora, Nora, not now! Wait till to ing on cloak]. I can't spend the night man's house. But can't we live here as brother and tening her hat].-You know very well t last long. Good-by, Torvald. No, I the children. I know they're in better mine. As I now am, I can be nothing But sometime, Nora-sometime w can I tell? I have no idea what will ne. But you are my wife, now and always! sten, Torvald: when a wife leaves her use, as I am doing, I have heard that in he law he is free from all duties toward rate I release you from all duties. You l yourself bound any more than I shall. be perfect freedom on both sides. is your ring back. Give me mine. That too? at too. Here it is. ry well. Now it's all over. Here are I will have them sent after me. Nora, will you JE Oh, I shall often think of you, and the chil d this house. -May I write to you, Nora? -No, never. You must not. -But I must send you -Nothing, nothing. -I must help you if you need it. No, I say. I take nothing from strangers. aking her traveling-bag].-O Torvald, then AN INGELO Boston, En S. Her fat elow was e That communion between us shall be a her own an rolume of p ces, "High pla at once British poets, tics. The c urate obser [sinks into a chair by the door with his face nds].-Nora! Nora! [He looks around 's up.] Empty. She's gone! [A hope inm.] Ah! The miracle of miracles-? low is heard the reverberation of a heavy ng.] 142 en say it was fights of By millions EAN INGELOW ow, English poetess and novelist, born gland, in 1830; died at Kensington, in her was an intellectual man, and Miss early acquainted with the best authors nd other days. In 1863 she published poems containing among other notable Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire." aced the author in the first rank of and this position is still given her by chief charm of her writing lies in her vation, and simple mode of expression. |