Joan released her. Alone together, the mother and daughter looked at each other defiantly.
"She ought to see a specialist," Joan said; "Doctor Thomas is an old fool!"
Mrs. Ogden's soft eyes grew bright with rising temper. "Never!" she exclaimed, raising her voice. "I hate the whole brood; it was a specialist who killed your father. James would be alive now if it hadn't been for a so-called specialist!"
Joan made a sound of impatience. "Don't be ridiculous, Mother; you don't know what you're talking about. You're taking a terrible responsibility in refusing to have a first-class opinion."
"I consider Doctor Thomas first-class."
"He is not; he's antediluvian and deaf into the bargain! I tell you, Milly is very ill."
Mrs. Ogden's remaining calm deserted her. "You tell me, you tell me! And what do you know about it? It seems that you pretend to know more than the doctor himself. You and your ridiculous medical books! You'll be asking me to consult your fellow-student Elizabeth next."
"I wish to God you would!"
"Ah! I thought so; well then, send for your clever friend, your unsexed blue-stocking, and put her opinion above that of your own mother. How many children has she borne, I'd like to know? What knowledge can she have that I as a mother haven't got by natural instinct, about my own child? How dare you put Elizabeth Rodney above me!"
Joan lost her temper suddenly and violently. "Because she is above you, because she's everything that you're not."