“Copper,” answered my companion. “Silver is a little better conductor, and a new metal, called glucinium, is better still, but both of these are too expensive for general use. Our telegraph and telephone wires were formerly made of iron for the sake of economy, but copper is now used for these lines, as well as for distributing electricity on a large scale. The copper wire now commonly used for the telegraph has a resistance of something like four ohms to the mile.” “You are making good progress,” said Thorwald. “But we have a metal of such good conducting qualities that, without making the wire too large for convenient use, we have reduced the resistance to an ohm to the mile.” “That is an exceedingly valuable metal,” the doctor said. “And now let me ask you a practical question. You say you draw your electricity for a thousand and one uses from a large storage plant in each city. Do you pay for it by the kilowatt, or how is it measured?” “We ask for so many watts or kilowatts, and it is also measured by the watt hour. But are you serious in asking if we pay for it?” “Why, you surely do not mean it is given away,” exclaimed the doctor, “after all the expense connected with producing and transmitting it.” “Yes, I mean that whatever quantity we want to use is ours for the asking. Before we could buy it some one would have to own it, and that could never be. Besides, how could we buy anything without money?” “What! No money either?” broke in the doctor again. “Well, if you can get along without money, that accounts in my mind for much of your happiness. Just think of that,” continued the doctor, turning to me, “to be forever rid of money and all the trouble it brings.” “Of what value would it be to us?” asked Thorwald. “We could not use it.” “Some of our people on the earth,” replied the doctor, “have oceans of it which they cannot use, and still they seem to think it is of much value. It is an inherent characteristic of our race to love the mere possession of money or other property, and human nature must change a great deal before we can begin to reach the exalted moral condition which you now enjoy, to say nothing of your spiritual state.” “Your nature will change,” said Thorwald, “and do not doubt that the change has already begun. Time is what you need, and there is time enough for everything.” After the midday lunch had been served we were invited to take a walk about the grounds. As the doctor and I were admiring the beautiful lawns and gorgeous beds of flowers, and then stood enraptured at the sight of the noble mansion itself, Zenith watched us eagerly, and finally said, with a smile: “You discovered my favorite department of art this morning. Now is a good time to learn what Thorwald’s is.” “Judging from what we have already seen and heard of your husband,” said I, “it seems to me he must be an astronomer, or, if not that, then a theological professor.”