FREDERIK. Are you going ... after all? ... And with that child?

PETER. Why not?

FREDERIK. [_Suddenly showing feeling_.] That little tattler? A child that
listens to everything and just told you ... He shouldn't be allowed in
this part of the house. He should be sent away.

PETER. [_Astonished_.] Why do you dislike him, Frederik? He's a fine
little fellow. You surprise me, my boy ... [CATHERINE _enters and goes to
the piano, running her hands softly over the keys--playing no melody in
particular._ PETER _sits in his big chair at the table and picks up his
pipe._ FREDERIK, _with an inscrutable face, now strikes a match and holds
it to his uncle's pipe_. PETER _thoughtfully takes one or two puffs; then
speaking so as not to be heard by_ CATHERINE.] Frederik, I want to think
that after I'm gone, everything will be the same here ... just as it is
now.

FREDERIK. Yes, sir. [_Sitting near_ PETER.

PETER. Just as it is ... [FREDERIK _nods assent_. PETER _smokes. The room
is very cheerful. The bright midday sunshine creeps through the windows,--
almost causing a haze in the room--and resting on the pots and vases and
bright flowers on the tables._

CATHERINE. [_Singing_.] "The bird so free in the heavens"--

PETER. [_Looking up--still in thought--seeming not to hear the song_.] And
my charities attended to. [FREDERIK _nods assent_.