Michaelis.
She has laid her heart bare to me.
Mrs. Beeler.
That is good. Young people, when they are generous, always lay disaster at their own door.
She kisses Rhoda. The girl goes into the porch, where she lingers a moment, then disappears. Mrs. Beeler sinks back in her chair again, overtaken by despondency.
Isn't it strange that I should be lying here again, and all those poor people waking up into a new day that is no new day at all, but the old weary day they have known so long? Isn't it strange, and sad?
Michaelis.
I ask you not to lose hope.
Mrs. Beeler.
Rousing from her dejection into vague excitement.