'Nothing is illusion,' said Raphael earnestly. 'At least, not in your sense. Why should the Creator deceive us?' 'Oh, well, don't let us get into metaphysics. We argue from different platforms,' she said. 'Tell me what you really came about in connection with the _Flag_.' 'Mr. Goldsmith was kind enough to suggest that you might write for it.' 'What!' exclaimed Esther, sitting upright in her arm-chair. 'I--I write for an orthodox paper?' 'Yes; why not?' 'Do you mean I'm to take part in my own conversion?' 'The paper is not entirely religious,' he reminded her. 'No, there are the advertisements,' she said slyly. 'Pardon me,' he said. 'We don't insert any advertisement contrary to the principles of orthodoxy. Not that we are much tempted.' 'You advertise soap,' she murmured. 'Oh, please don't you go in for those cheap sarcasms!' 'Forgive me,' she said. 'Remember, my conceptions of orthodoxy are drawn mainly from the Ghetto, where cleanliness, so far from being next to godliness, is nowhere in the vicinity. But what can I do for you?' 'I don't know. At present the staff--the _Flag_-staff, as Sidney calls it--consists of myself and a sub-editor, who take it in turn to translate the only regular outside contributor's articles into English.' 'Who's that?' 'Melchitzedek Pinchas, the poet I told you of.' 'I suppose he writes in Hebrew?' 'No; if he did the translation would be plain-sailing enough. The trouble is that he will write in English. I must admit, though, he improves daily. Our correspondents, too, have the same weakness for the vernacular, and I grieve to add that when they do introduce a Hebrew word, they do not invariably spell it correctly.' She smiled; her smile was never so fascinating as by firelight. Raphael rose and paced the room nervously, flinging out his arms in uncouth fashion to emphasise his speech. 'I was thinking you might introduce a secular department of some sort which would brighten up the paper. My articles are so plaguy dull.' 'Not so dull--for religious articles,' she assured him. 'Could you treat Jewish matters from a social standpoint--gossipy sort of thing?' She shook her head. 'I'm afraid to trust myself to write on Jewish subjects. I should be sure to tread on somebody's corns.' 'Oh, I have it!' he cried, bringing his arms in contact with a small Venetian vase, which Esther, with great presence of mind, just managed to catch ere it reached the ground. 'No, I have it!' she said, laughing. 'Do sit down, else nobody can answer for the consequences.' She half pushed him into his chair, where he fell to warming his hands contemplatively. 'Well?' she said after a pause. 'I thought you had an idea.' 'Yes, yes,' he said, rousing himself. 'The subject we were just discussing--art.' 'But there is nothing Jewish about art.' 'All noble work has its religious aspects. Then there are Jewish artists.'