Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/318

 Gregers. Was he not?

Hedvig. No. But at last he was drowned at sea; and so he left all those things behind him.

Gregers. Tell me now—when you are sitting in there looking at the pictures, don't you wish you could travel and see the real world for yourself?

Hedvig. Oh no! I mean always to stay at home and help father and mother.

Gregers. To retouch photographs?

Hedvig. No, not only that. I should love above everything to learn to engrave pictures like those in the English books.

Gregers. H'm. What does your father say to that?

Hedvig. I don't think father likes it; father is strange about such things. Only think, he talks of my learning basket-making, and straw-plaiting! But I don't think that would be much good.

Gregers, Oh no, I don't think so either.

Hedvig. But father was right in saying that if I had