(Rebecca West is sitting in an easy chair by the window and crocheting a large white woolen shawl, which is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out expectantly through the leaves of the plants. Soon after, Madam Helseth enters from the right.)
Madam Helseth. I suppose I’d better begin to lay the table, Miss?
Rebecca West. Yes, please do. The Pastor must soon be in now.
Madam Helseth. Do you feel the draught, Miss, where you’re sitting?
Rebecca. Yes, there is a little draught. Perhaps you had better shut the window.
(Madame Helseth shuts the door into the hall, and then comes to the window.)
Madam Helseth. (About to shut the window, looks out.) Why, isn’t that the Pastor over there?
Rebecca. (Hastily.) Where? (Rises.) Yes, it’s he. (Behind the curtain.) Stand aside, don’t let him see us.
Madam Helseth. (Keeping back from the window.) Only think, Miss, he’s beginning to take the path by the mill again.
Rebecca. He went that way the day before yesterday, too. (Peeps out between the curtains and the window frame.) But let us see whether—