"I can't imagine what has come over you both," said he.
"My dear papa, we are trying hard to live up to Mrs.Westmacott's standard." "Well, I must say that I do not admire the result.

Your chemistry, Ida, may perhaps do no harm; but your scheme, Clara, is out of the question.
How a girl of your sense could ever entertain such a notion is more than I can imagine.

But I must absolutely forbid you to go further with it." "But, pa," asked Ida, with an air of innocent inquiry in her big blue eyes, "what are we to do when your commands and Mrs.Westmacott's advice are opposed?
You told us to obey her.

She says that when women try to throw off their shackles, their fathers, brothers and husbands are the very first to try to rivet them on again, and that in such a matter no man has any authority." "Does Mrs.Westmacott teach you that I am not the head of my own house ?" The Doctor flushed, and his grizzled hair bristled in his anger.
"Certainly.

She says that all heads of houses are relics of the dark ages." The Doctor muttered something and stamped his foot upon the carpet.