to say, she takes after your family,
and in what respect after mine, and so forth. Svava is a remarkable
girl.

Mrs. Riis. She is that.

Riis. She is neither altogether you nor altogether me nor is she exactly
a compound of us both.

Mrs. Riis. Svava is something more than that.

Riis. A considerable deal more than that, too. (Disappears again; then
comes out with his coat on, brushing himself.) What did you say?

Mrs. Riis. I did not speak.--I rather think it is my mother that Svava
is most like.

Riis. I should think so! Svava, with her quiet pleasant ways! What a
thing to say!

Mrs. Riis. Svava can be passionate enough.

Riis. Svava never forgets her manners as your mother did.

Mrs. Riis. You never understood mother. Still, no doubt they are unlike
in a great many things.

Riis. Absolutely!--Can you see now how right I was in chattering to her
in various languages from the beginning, even when she was quite tiny?
Can you see that now? You were opposed to my doing it.

Mrs. Riis. I was opposed to your perpetually plaguing the child, and
also to the endless jumping from one thing to another.

Riis. But look at the result, my dear! Look at the result! (Begins to
hum a tune.)

Mrs. Riis. You are surely never going to pretend that it is the
languages that have made her what she is?

Riis (as he disappears). No, not the languages; but--(His voice is heard
from within his room)--the language have done a wonderful lot! She has
savoir vivre--what? (Comes out again.)

Mrs. Riis. I am sure that is not what Svava is most admired for.

Riis. No, no. On the boat, a man asked me if I were related to the Miss
Riis who had founded the Kindergartens in the town. I said I had the
honour to be her father. You should have seen his face! I nearly had a
fit.

Mrs. Riis. Yes, the Kindergartens have been a great success from the
very first.

Riis. And they are responsible for her getting engaged, too--aren't
they? What?

Mrs. Riis. You must ask her.

Riis. You have never even noticed my new suit.

Mrs. Riis. Indeed I have.

Riis. I didn't hear as much as the tiniest cry of admiration from you.
Look at the harmony of it all!--the scheme of colour, even down to the
shoes!--what? And the handkerchief, too!

Mrs. Riis. How old are you, dear?

Riis. Hold your tongue!--Anyway, how old do you think people take me to
be?

Mrs. Riis. Forty, of course.

Riis. "Of course"? I don't see that it is so obvious. This s