Dr. Herd. (uneasily). He said that so strangely, Senna. But tell me now—when are you going to marry him?
Senna (starts—half glancing up at him). I—I don't know. This year—next-year—now—never! I cannot marry him ... I cannot—I cannot—it is so utterly impossible to leave you!
Dr. Herd. Yes, I can understand that. But, my poor Senna, hadn't you better take a little walk?
Senna (clasps her hands gratefully). How sweet and thoughtful you are to me! I will take a walk.
Dr. Herd. (with a suppressed smile). Do! And—h'm!—you needn't trouble to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper—they are less emotional. Good-night, my little Senna!
Senna (softly, and quiveringly). Good-night, Dr. Herdal!
[Staggers out of the hall-door, blowing kisses.
Mrs. Herdal (enters through the window, plaintively). Quite an acquisition for you, Haustus, this Miss Blakdraf!
Dr. Herd. She's—h'm!—extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting with her, Aline—mainly on your account.
Mrs. Herd. (evades him). Was it on my account, indeed, Haustus? You have parted with so many young persons on my account—so you tell me!