Rita, where is Alfred? Is he still asleep? RITA. Oh, not at all. He got up as early as ever to-day. ASTA. Then he can't have been so very tired after all. RITA. Yes, he was last night--when he arrived. But now he has had little Eyolf with him in his room for a whole hour and more. ASTA. Poor little white-faced boy! Has he to be for ever at his lessons again? RITA. [With a slight shrug.] Alfred will have it so, you know. ASTA. Yes; but I think you ought to put down your foot about it, Rita. RITA. [Somewhat impatiently.] Oh no; come now, I really cannot meddle with that. Alfred knows so much better about these things than I do. And what would you have Eyolf do? He can't run about and play, you see--like other children. ASTA. [With decision.] I will talk to Alfred about this. RITA. Yes, do; I wish you would.--Oh! here he is. [ALFRED ALLMERS, dressed in light summer clothes, enters by the door on the left, leading EYOLF by the hand. He is a slim, lightly-built man of about thirty-six or thirty-seven, with gentle eyes, and thin brown hair and beard. His expression is serious and thoughtful. EYOLF wears a suit cut like a uniform, with gold braid and gilt military buttons. He is lame, and walks with a crutch under his left arm. His leg is shrunken. He is undersized, and looks delicate, but has beautiful intelligent eyes.] ALLMERS. [Drops EYOLF's hand, goes up to ASTA with an expression of marked pleasure, and holds out both his hands to her.] Asta! My dearest Asta! To think of your coming! To think of my seeing you so soon! ASTA. I felt I must--. Welcome home again! ALLMERS. [Shaking her hands.] Thank you for coming. RITA. Doesn't he look well? ASTA. [Gazes fixedly at him.] Splendid! Quite splendid! His eyes are so much brighter! And I suppose you have done a great deal of writing on your travels? [With an outburst of joy.] I shouldn't wonder if you had finished the whole book, Alfred?