RITA. Oh, no; I don't think so at all. I haven't heard him cough once.
ASTA. Ah, there you see now! It was a good thing, after all, that the doctor talked him into taking this tour.
RITA. Yes, now that it is safely over.—But I can tell you it has been a terrible time for me, Asta. I have never cared to talk about it—and you so seldom came out to see me, too—
ASTA. Yes, I daresay that wasn't very nice of me—but—
RITA. Well, well, well, of course you had your school to attend to in town. [Smiling.] And then our road-maker friend—of course he was away too.
ASTA. Oh, don't talk like that, Rita.
RITA. Very well, then; we will leave the road-maker out of the question.—You can't think how I have been longing for Alfred! How empty the place seemed! How desolate! Ugh, it felt as if there had been a funeral in the house!
ASTA. Why, dear me, only six or seven weeks—
RITA. Yes; but you must remember that Alfred has never been away from me before—never so much as twenty-four hours. Not once in all these ten years.
ASTA. No; but that is just why I really think it was high time he should have a little outing this year. He ought to have gone for a tramp in the mountains every summer—he really ought.