BORKMAN.
Possibly from your little Frida?
FOLDAL. Precisely! Think of your hitting on it at once! Yes, it was a long letter from Frida. A footman had brought it. And can you imagine what was in it?
BORKMAN.
Perhaps it was to say good-bye to her mother and you?
FOLDAL. Exactly! How good you are at guessing, John Gabriel! Yes, she tells me that Mrs. Wilton has taken such a fancy to her, and she is to go abroad with her and study music. And Mrs. Wilton has engaged a first-rate teacher who is to accompany them on the journey—and to read with Frida. For unfortunately she has been a good deal neglected in some branches, you see.
BORKMAN. [Shaken with inward laughter.] Of course, of course—I see it all quite clearly, Vilhelm.
FOLDAL. [Eagerly continuing.] And only think, she knew nothing about the arrangement until this evening; at that party, you know, h'm! And yet she found time to write to me. And the letter is such a beautiful one—so warm and affectionate, I assure you. There is not a trace of contempt for her father in it. And then what a delicate thought it was to say good-bye to us by letter—before she started. [Laughing.] But of course I can't let her go like that.
BORKMAN.
[Looks inquiringly at him.] How so?
FOLDAL. She tells me that they start early to-morrow morning; quite early.
BORKMAN.
Oh indeed—to-morrow? Does she tell you that?
FOLDAL. [Laughing and rubbing his hands.] Yes; but I know a trick worth two of that, you see! I am going straight up to Mrs. Wilton's——