Martha.
Dina—happy girl! Let me look at you and kiss you once more—for the last time.
Dina.
Not the last time; no, my dear, dear aunt—we shall meet again.
Martha.
Never! Promise me, Dina, never to come back again. [Seizes both her hands and looks into her face.] Now go to your happiness, my dear child—over the sea. Oh, how often have I sat in the school-*room and longed to be over there! It must be beautiful there; the heaven is wider; the clouds sail higher than here; a larger, freer air sweeps over the heads of the people
Dina.
Oh, Aunt Martha, you will follow us some day.
Martha.
I? Never, never. My little life-work lies here; and now I think I can give myself to it wholly and unreservedly.
Dina.
I cannot imagine being parted from you.
Martha.
Ah, one can part from so much, Dina. [Kisses her.] But you will not have to learn that lesson, my dear child. Promise me to make him happy.
Dina.
I will not promise anything. I hate this promising. Things must come as they can.
