Sitting-room at Rosmersholm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows, ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it. Rebecca West is sitting knitting a large antimacassar which is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods expectantly to someone outside. Madam Helseth is laying the table for supper. Rebecca. Folding up her work slowly.] But tell me precisely, what about this white horse? Smiling quietly. Madam Helseth. Lord forgive you, Miss - fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table]-but you're making fun of me Rebecca. Gravely.] No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmersholm. Mr. Rosmer would not understand it. Shutting window.] Ah, here is Rector Kroll. Opening door.] You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I will tell them to give us some little extra dish. Kroll. Hanging up his hat in the hall.] Many thanks. Wipes his boots.] May I come in? Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks about him.] And how do you and Rosmer get on together, eh? Rebecca."