A room in the Castle.
AMELIA.
[alone.] Why am I so uneasy; so peevish; who has offended me? I did not mean to come into this room. In the garden I intended to go [going, turns back]. No, I will not—yes, I will—just go, and look if my auriculas are still in blossom; and if the apple tree is grown which Mr. Anhalt planted.—I feel very low-spirited—something must be the matter.—Why do I cry?—Am I not well?
Enter Mr. ANHALT.
Ah! good morning, my dear Sir—Mr. Anhalt, I meant to say—I beg pardon.
MR. ANHALT.
Never mind, Miss Wildenhaim—I don’t dislike to hear you call me as you did.
AMELIA.
In earnest?
MR. ANHALT.
Really. You have been crying. May I know the reason? The loss of your mother, still?—
AMELIA.
No—I have left off crying for her.
MR. ANHALT.
I beg pardon if I have come at an improper hour; but I wait upon you by the commands of your father.
AMELIA.
You are welcome at all hours. My father has more than once told me that he who forms my mind I should always consider as my greatest benefactor. [looking down] And my heart tells me the same.