SOPHY.
You are right. At that time the pastor and we could scarcely keep him. [Counts once more the afore-mentioned persons.] Then here Mr. Möller; and there your godfather, my cousin Mr. Wilkens; then I myself here; there Robert and you; finally, at the foot, Andrew and William. How the time passes! If I think back to my engagement day! Then I was not as happy as I am today.
MARY.
Mother, I wonder whether every girl that is to become a bride feels as I do? SOPHY. Not every one has such good cause to be glad as you have.
MARY.
But is it gladness that I feel? I am so depressed, mother, so—
SOPHY.
Of course. You are like the flower on which clings a dewdrop. It hangs its head, and yet the dew is no burden.
MARY.
I feel as if it were wrong of me to leave my father, even if it is to go with Robert.