The colonel interrupted her. "Listen to me," he thundered. In his anger he seemed to have regained some of his old vitality. "You listen to me, young woman; I'll have none of this nonsense under my roof. You think, I suppose, that your aunt has made you independent, but let me tell you that for the next six years you're nothing of the kind. Not one penny will I spend on any education that is likely to unsex a daughter of mine. I'll have none of these new-fangled woman's rights ideas in my house; you will stay at home like any other girl until such time as you get married. You will marry; do you hear me? _That's_ a woman's profession! A sawbones indeed! Do you think you're a boy? Have you gone stark, staring mad?" "No, I'm not mad," Joan said quietly, "but I don't think I shall marry, Father." "Not marry, and why not, pray?" She did not attempt to explain, for she herself did not know what had prompted her. "I can wait," she told him. "It wouldn't be too late to begin when I'm twenty-one." He opened his mouth to roar at her, but the words did not come; instead he fell back limply in his chair. Mrs. Ogden rushed to him. Joan stood very still; she had no impulse to help him; she felt cold and numb with anger. "I think you've killed your father," said Mrs. Ogden unsteadily. Joan roused herself. She looked into her mother's working face; they stared at each other across the prostrate man. "No," she said gravely, "it's you, both of you, who are trying to kill me." She went and fetched brandy, and together they forced some between the pallid lips. After a little he stirred. "You see, he's not dead," said Joan mechanically. "I'll go for the doctor." When the doctor came he shook his head. "How did this happen?" he inquired. "He got angry," Mrs. Ogden told him. "But I warned you that he mustn't be excited, that you ought not to excite him under any circumstances. Really, Mrs. Ogden, if you do, I won't answer for the consequences." "It was not _I_ who excited him," she said, and she looked at Joan. Joan said: "Will he die, Doctor Thomas?" She could hear herself that her voice was unnaturally indifferent. The doctor looked at her in surprise. "Not this time, perhaps; in fact, I'm pretty sure he'll pull round this time, but it mustn't happen again." "No," said Joan, "I understand; it mustn't happen again." "Quite so," said the doctor dryly. _BOOK III_ CHAPTER NINETEEN 1