Mrs. Alving. Their opinion—?
Manders. Is there any considerable body of opinion here—opinion of some account, I mean—that might take exception to it?
Mrs. Alving. What, exactly, do you mean by opinion of some account?
Manders. Well, I was thinking particularly of persons of such independent and influential position that one could hardly refuse to attach weight to their opinion.
Mrs. Alving. There are a certain number of such people here, who might perhaps take exception to it if we—
Manders. That's just it, you see. In town there are lots of them. All my fellow-clergymen's congregations, for instance! It would be so extremely easy for them to interpret it as meaning that neither you nor I had a proper reliance on Divine protection.
Mrs. Alving. But as far as you are concerned, my dear friend, you have at all events the consciousness that—
Manders. Yes I know I know; my own mind is quite easy about it, it is true. But we should not be able to prevent a wrong and injurious interpretation of our action. And that sort of thing, moreover, might very easily end in exercising a hampering influence on the work of the Orphanage.
Mrs. Alving. Oh, well, if that is likely to be the effect of it—
Manders. Nor can I entirely overlook the difficult—indeed, I may say, painful—position I might possibly be placed in. In the best circles in town the matter of this Orphanage is attracting a great deal of attention. Indeed the Orphanage is to some extent built for the benefit of the town too, and it is to be hoped that it may result in the lowering of our poor-rate by a considerable amount. But as I have been your adviser in the matter and have taken charge of the business side of it, I should be afraid that it would be I that spiteful persons would attack first of all.