Oswald. I am here for an indefinite time, Mr. Manders.—Oh, it's good to be at home again! 

 Mrs. Alving (beaming). Yes, isn't it? 

 Manders (looking sympathetically at him). You went out into the world very young, my dear Oswald. 

 Oswald. I did. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't too young. 

 Mrs. Alving. Not a bit of it. It is the best thing for an active boy, and especially for an only child. It's a pity when they are kept at home with their parents and get spoiled. 

 Manders. That is a very debatable question, Mrs. Alving. A child's own home is, and always must be, his proper place. 

 Oswald. There I agree entirely with Mr. Manders. 

 Manders. Take the case of your own son. Oh yes, we can talk about it before him. What has the result been in his case? He is six or seven and twenty, and has never yet had the opportunity of learning what a well-regulated home means. 

 Oswald. Excuse me, Mr. Manders, you are quite wrong there. 

 Manders. Indeed? I imagined that your life abroad had practically been spent entirely in artistic circles. 

 Oswald. So it has. 

 Manders. And chiefly amongst the younger artists. 

 Oswald. Certainly. 

 Manders. But I imagined that those gentry, as a rule, had not the means necessary for family life and the support of a home. 

 Oswald. There are a considerable number of them who have not the means to marry, Mr. Manders. 

 Manders. That is exactly my point. 

 Oswald. But they can have a home of their own, all the same; a good many of them have. And they are very well-regulated and very comfortable homes, too. 

 (MRS. ALVING, who has listened to him attentively, nods assent, but says nothing.) 

 Manders. Oh, but I am not talking of bachelor establishments. By a home I mean family life—the life a man lives with his wife and 

 Prev. P 20/70 next