They had strolled up to the old tide mill, and sat watching the moon high overhead, outlining its path of silver sheen upon the rippled waters of the harbor, while he, as usual, was giving utterance to some of his delicately worded sayings. "I do not understand," she said in response to one more pointed than the rest, "why you think so badly of womankind in the great world. Are they all so selfish, and artful, and deceitful, as you say? I have seen some who came here in their beautiful yachts, and they looked so nice in their white dresses, and so sweet and gentle, I envied them." Winn looked at her and smiled. "I have no doubt, little girl, you admired and envied them, and that they looked to you as beautiful and charming as so many fairies. That was the principal reason they came ashore--just to be seen and admired by you people here, who, they knew, never were, and, most likely, never would be, clad as they were. That is all these butterflies of fashion live for--to show off their beautiful plumage and be envied by others." "Maybe you know them best," she responded regretfully, as if sorry he had spoiled an illusion, "but I thought them so beautiful and sweet and so like pictures in books, it seemed to me they must be as described there and never wicked or deceitful." "And so you have been believing all you read in books, have you, little one?" he said, smiling again, "and that those show birds who lit on the island flew out of the pages of story books? And yet, the other day, when I told you about the nymphs and elfins, you did not believe me, Mona!" "I have never seen those creatures," she replied, "and I have seen these." "Neither have you seen God, or the Saviour, or the angels," he said, "and yet you believe they exist." "I do," she answered firmly, "and I should go crazy with fear if I didn't. But your wonderful creatures, who lived so long ago, did not make this world, as God did." "People believed they did in those days," he replied quietly, "and just as firmly as we believe God did." She made no answer, for the subject was beyond her, but silently watched the beauteous moonlight picture before her. "I should like to go into the great world," she said at last, as if that fascinated her, "and wear beautiful dresses and see those others wear, and hear that wonderful woman you told about play the violin, and watch them throw flowers at her. I should like to be one with the rest just for a little while, and then come back." "If you did that you would never come back," he answered, "or if you did you would be miserable ever after." "I should have to," she said, as another side of the question presented itself to her, "if I couldn't earn my living there."