Scene—A sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours. Broad doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a back drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs a posthumous portrait of the late General Gabler. On the piano is a handsome pall. Through the glass panes of the back drawing-room window are seen a dead wall and a cemetery. Settees, sofas, chairs, &c., handsomely upholstered in black bombazine, and studded with small round nails. Bouquets of immortelles and dead grasses are lying everywhere about.
Enter Aunt Julie (a good-natured-looking lady in a smart hat.)
Aunt Julie.
Well, I declare, if I believe George or Hedda are up yet! [Enter George Tesman, humming, stout, careless, spectacled.] Ah, my dear boy, I have called before breakfast to inquire how you and Hedda are after returning late last night from your long honeymoon. Oh, dear me, yes; am I not your old aunt, and are not these attentions usual in Norway?
George.
Good Lord, yes! My six months' honeymoon has been quite a little travelling scholarship, eh? I have been examining archives. Think of that! Look here, I'm going to write a book all about the domestic interests of the Cave-dwellers during the Deluge. I'm a clever young Norwegian man of letters, eh?
Aunt Julie.
Fancy your knowing about that too! Now, dear me, thank Heaven!
George.
Let me, as a dutiful Norwegian nephew, untie that smart, showy hat of yours. [Unties it, and pats her under the chin.] Well, to be sure, you have got yourself really up—fancy that!