Ethel halted at this onslaught from the man who claimed to believe of everybody and everything only what his external senses revealed to him concerning them. Everybody laughed good-naturedly; and Ethel laughed with them at herself. For she knew there was a line between things, perceivable only to the inner senses and those perceptible to the outer senses. But she, like her father Daniel, was a dreamer who worked; and therefore took care to protect herself from seeming like a dreamer who _lied_, as she saw Elkhorn thought and meant to hint to her that she was. She felt what she said was truth, as to the interior aspirational thoughts which were held by many women and men, who, like Hawthorne, Emerson and others of earlier date, had philosophized, romanced and poetized over common-sense facts, and had thus enthroned them; till they now, at least, were lodged in the memories of men like Elkhorn, as entertaining fictions. Luckily for Ethel she had a merry soul, as well as a philosophically religious one. And, too, she had the faculty of standing off at a distance from herself in a way that enabled her to see herself as others saw her. She was not self-conceited, though to others she seemed so. If she had been, her gift of seeing herself as others often saw her (so frequently was she misunderstood), would have many times a day taken down her self-conceit. She saw the confusion in Elkhorn’s mind concerning her. She knew he was a stoical man, and had no power of imaging the unseen. He was like the men of that class which long ago sprung up and outlawed the poets, and repressed everything of that sort (music included, I believe); because these things, according to these realists (?) led to lies, and were lies. All this was in Ethel’s mind as she caught Daniel’s eye, and they both laughed out cheerily. For Daniel had often been called a —— (that name you know) and, too, he had been quite outlawed long ago by deacons, who called him a “rationalist.” And then when he patiently inquired if they would rather he should become “irrational,” he was churched for it. So when Ethel and Daniel had rung forth that swift chime of laughter, it had rung up memories of these things to the ears of all who heard it. Her pleasantness and just estimate of others seemed to have cleared the atmosphere. And Judge Elkhorn said cordially, but a little quizzically, “Well, we’ll take all that on the strength of our faith in you, Miss Daksha. But go on, and take your time.” “Yes, take your time,” said Robert, accenting significantly. “This is not half bad that you are saying, Ethel, but it is quite a fairy tale to everybody who is listening to you, you know.” “On, on with the fairy story,” said Paul Palmer.