She said: "Why? Because Elizabeth has burnt her hands?" It was the wrong thing to say--a thoroughly stupid and heartless remark, and she knew it. She would have given much for a little of the tact which she felt instinctively to be her only weapon, but for the life of her she could not subdue the smouldering anger that took hold of her at the moment. She never for an instant doubted that Elizabeth was in some way connected with this mad idea; it pleased her to think this, even while it tormented her. The mother and daughter confronted each other; their eyes were cold and hard. "What's that?" said Colonel Ogden, leaning a little forward. Joan turned to him. "I was telling Mother that I've decided on a career. I'm going in for medicine." "For _what_?" "For medicine. Other girls have done it." Her father rose unsteadily to his feet; he helped himself up by the arms of his chair. Very slowly he pointed a fat, shaking finger at his wife. "Mary, what did I tell you, what did I tell you, Mary? This is what comes of Henrietta's iniquitous will. My God! Did I ever think to hear a girl child of fifteen calmly stating what she intends to do? Does she ask my permission? No, she states that she intends to be a doctor. A doctor, my daughter! Good God! What next?" He turned on Joan: "You must be mad," he told her. "It's positively indecent--an unsexing, indecent profession for any woman, and any woman who takes it up is indecent and unsexed. I say it without hesitation--indecent, positively immodest!" "Indecent, Father?" "Yes, and immodest; it's an outrageous suggestion!" Mrs. Ogden took up her knitting again; the needles clicked irritatingly. Once or twice she closed her eyes, but her hands moved incessantly. "Joan!" She swallowed and spoke as if under a great restraint. "Yes, Mother?" "If you were a boy I would say this to you, and since you seem to have chosen to assume an altogether ridiculous masculine role, listen to me. There are things that a gentleman can do and things he cannot; no gentleman can enter the medical profession, no Routledge has ever been known to do such a thing. Our men have served their country; they have served it gloriously, but a Routledge does not enter a middle-class profession. I wish to keep quite calm, Joan. I can understand your having acquired these strange ideas, for you have naturally been thrown very much with Elizabeth, and Elizabeth is--well, not quite one of us; but you will please remember who you are, and that I for one will never tolerate your behaving other than as a member of my family. I----"