Valborg (going to TJAELDE). Father!
Tjaelde. My child!
Valborg. If we had not known those bad days we should never have known this happy one! (He gives her a grip of the hand.)
Tjaelde (to BERENT). Allow me to present to you my daughter Valborg's fiancé—Mr. Sannaes.
Berent. I congratulate you on your choice, Miss Valborg—and I congratulate the whole family on such a son-in-law.
Valborg (triumphantly). There, Sannaes!
Jakobsen. May I too, though I am only a stupid sort of chap, say that this lad has been in love with you ever since he was in his teens—he hardly could be sooner than that. But I can tell you, honestly, I should never have credited you with having so much sense as to take him. (All laugh.)
Mrs. Tjaelde. Signe is whispering to me that our dinner is getting cold.
Signe. May I take my mother's place and ask you to take me in to dinner, Mr. Berent?
Berent (offering her his arm). I am honoured!—But our bridal pair must go first!