— The same room in the late evening. The lamp, with a shade on it, is burning on the table. REBECCA is standing by the table, packing some small articles in a travelling-bag. Her cloak, hat, and the white crochetted shawl are hanging on the back of the couch. MRS. HELSETH comes in from the right.) Mrs. Helseth (speaking in low tones and with a reserved manner). Yes, all your things have been taken down, miss. They are in the kitchen passage. Rebecca. Thank you. You have ordered the carriage? Mrs. Helseth. Yes, miss. The coachman wants to know what time he shall bring it round. Rebecca. I think at about eleven o’clock. The boat goes at midnight. Mrs. Helseth (with a little hesitation). But what about Mr. Rosmer? Suppose he is not back by that time? Rebecca. I shall start, all the same. If I should not see him, you can tell him I will write to him — a long letter, say that. Mrs. Helseth. Yes, I dare say it will be all right to write. But, poor dear, I really think that you ought to try and have a talk with him once more. Rebecca.
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