Little did poor Doctor Walker imagine as he sat at his breakfast-table

next morning that the two sweet girls who sat on either side of him were

deep in a conspiracy, and that he, munching innocently at his muffins,

was the victim against whom their wiles were planned. Patiently they

waited until at last their opening came.

"It is a beautiful day," he remarked. "It will do for Mrs. Westmacott.

She was thinking of having a spin upon the tricycle."

"Then we must call early. We both intended to see her after breakfast."

"Oh, indeed!" The Doctor looked pleased.

"You know, pa," said Ida, "it seems to us that we really have a very

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great advantage in having Mrs. Westmacott living so near."

"Why so, dear?"

"Well, because she is so advanced, you know. If we only study her ways

we may advance ourselves also."

"I think I have heard you say, papa," Clara remarked, "that she is the

type of the woman of the future."

"I am very pleased to hear you speak so sensibly, my dears. I certainly

think that she is a woman whom you may very well take as your model. The

more intimate you are with her the better pleased I shall be."

"Then that is settled," said Clara demurely, and the talk drifted to

other matters.

All the morning the two girls sat extracting from Mrs. Westmacott her

most extreme view as to the duty of the one sex and the tyranny of the

other. Absolute equality, even in details, was her ideal. Enough of the

parrot cry of unwomanly and unmaidenly. It had been invented by man

to scare woman away when she poached too nearly upon his precious

preserves. Every woman should be independent. Every woman should learn a

trade. It was their duty to push in where they were least welcome.

Then they were martyrs to the cause, and pioneers to their weaker sisters.

Why should the wash-tub, the needle, and the housekeeper's book be

eternally theirs? Might they not reach higher, to the consulting-room,

to the bench, and even to the pulpit? Mrs. Westmacott sacrificed her

tricycle ride in her eagerness over her pet subject, and her two fair

disciples drank in every word, and noted every suggestion for future

use. That afternoon they went shopping in London, and before evening

strange packages began to be handed in at the Doctor's door. The plot

was ripe for execution, and one of the conspirators was merry and

jubilant, while the other was very nervous and troubled.




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