CHRISTINE. Have you heard anything from Eleonora?
ELIS. Yes—poor little sister! She writes me letters that tear my heart to pieces. She wants to get out of the asylum—and home, of course. But the doctor daren't let her go. She would do things that might lead to prison, he says. Do you know, I feel terribly conscience-stricken sometimes—
CHRISTINE [Starting]. Why?
ELIS. Because I agreed with all the rest of them that it was best to put her there.
CHRISTINE. My dear, you are always accusing yourself. It was fortunate she could be taken care of like that—poor little thing!
ELIS. Well, perhaps you're right. It is best so. She is as well off there as she could be anywhere. When I think of how she used to go about here casting gloom over every attempt at happiness, how her fate weighed us down like a nightmare, then I am tempted to feel almost glad about it. I believe the greatest misfortune that could happen would be to see her cross this threshold. Selfish brute that I am!
CHRISTINE. Human being that you are!
ELIS. And yet—I suffer—suffer at the thought of her misery and my father's.
CHRISTINE. It seems as tho' some were born to suffer.
ELIS. You poor Christine—to be drawn into this family, which was cursed from the beginning! Yes, doomed!