“Wouldn’t it?” said Clara. “We’d be fearful tyrants, having so old a precedent before us, or rather behind us. We’d get all the wealth into our own hands, and when our sometime lords wanted money, we’d ask how much, and what for, and quibble about the amount, and recommend home-made cigars instead of Habanas. We’d give them donkeys and a side-saddle to ride on, lest immodesty and ambition should be fostered by riding astride of fine horses. We’d have them do hard work all the time, and yet we’d kiss only the hands that were soft and white. Then we’d set up our ideal for male chastity, which should be almost unattainable, through our own system of tempting them; and then we’d laugh at the presumption of any who presumed to demand the same standard for us. If they wished to vote, we’d howl at and persecute them for getting out of their sphere, and show them they had no need of the ballot, because we, their heaven-appointed protectors, represented them at the polls.” The ladies laughed, but the doctor’s face was quite grave. “That is about what you would do, and about what we should deserve; so we will take care that we rise together.” “I should think—” Susie began. “No, I will not hear what you think. I will have one right that you tyrants are bound to respect, and that is the right to tear myself away from your eloquence. Good-bye, flounderers!” and the doctor passed rapidly out to the gate, Clara following for one more word, just to teaze him. There was Min, demurely seated on the narrow seat of the “sulky.” “Minnie’s going to ride with her doctor, she is.” “Is she, indeed? Here’s another tyrant of your sex,” said the doctor, and hurried as he was, he drove the child around the Common, as usual, before going his professional round. CHAPTER XXXII. THE DISTINGUISHED VISITOR.