"M. D.!" said the major to himself. "Margaret Dallas, the mother of Isabella. How did her handkerchief come into the room on that night? And the perfume?",
"Well then, she rebuked him thoroughly for his variable though severe criticisms, and stated, with some emotion, that the Board should be enlightened as to his unfitness, through his captious temper, for the delicate task of nourishing the tender sensibilities of the budding artist.",
But she was too late, for, before she could escape from the room, Dr. Etwald--as smiling and composed as ever--entered the door. He placed himself quietly before the enraged Mrs. Dallas..
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