MISS TESMAN.
Oh, her end was so calm, so beautiful. And then she had the unspeakable happiness of seeing George once more—and bidding him good-bye.—Has he not come home yet?
HEDDA.
No. He wrote that he might be detained. But won't you sit down?
MISS TESMAN.
No thank you, my dear, dear Hedda. I should like to, but I have so much to do. I must prepare my dear one for her rest as well as I can. She shall go to her grave looking her best.
HEDDA.
Can I not help you in any way?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, you must not think of it! Hedda Tesman must have no hand in such mournful work. Nor let her thought dwell on it either—not at this time.