A rival near the throne."
"But don't you see, Dr. Prague, it won't do at all to admit her into society on the same footing with our Catherine? For my part I don't see how you could, for a moment, harbor so low an idea."
In a far away period of time, the present honorable Mrs. Dr. Prague had—shall we write it?—cut shoe-strings in her father's shop, and why should not she be a competent judge of the low and common, since experience is regarded as the "best teacher" in almost all matters beneath the sun?
"I say," she reiterated, finding her remark elicited no response from her worthy husband, "Annie Evalyn is not to be compared to our Catherine."
"I'm aware of that," was the answer in a dry tone.
"And don't you notice how the minx tries to put on the lady?"
"Not at all, madam; why should she strive to assume what is her natural garb?"
"Now really, Hippe, you are getting incorrigible."
"Hippe" was a term of endearment, Mrs. Dr. Prague was accustomed to apply to her husband when she wished to be very killing and condescending, his Christian name being Hippocrates.
To this winning speech, however, the insensate Dr. vouchsafed no reply; so his lovely wife tacked about and said, "Well, Dr., to come to the point, this governess is a dangerous rival for your daughter."