From time to time there sounded from the house behind them the long, sad wail of a French horn.
"That is Ida," said he.

"She has taken to practicing on that dreadful instrument in the intervals of her chemistry.

And Clara is quite as bad.
I declare it is getting quite unendurable." "Ah, Doctor, Doctor!" she cried, shaking her forefinger, with a gleam of her white teeth.

"You must live up to your principles--you must give your daughters the same liberty as you advocate for other women." "Liberty, madam, certainly! But this approaches to license." "The same law for all, my friend." She tapped him reprovingly on the arm with her sunshade.

"When you were twenty your father did not, I presume, object to your learning chemistry or playing a musical instrument.