“My dear Stella!” he cried, scandalized. He himself did not believe in the Jonah and whale story or in many other things contained in Holy Writ, and did not go to church, and was sceptical as to existence of anthropomorphous angels; but he held the truly British conviction of the necessity of faith in the young and innocent. Stella having been bred in the unquestioning calm of Anglican orthodoxy, her atheistical pronouncement was staggering. “My dear Stella!” he cried. “The Bible not true?” She flushed. “Oh, I believe it's all true as far as it goes,” she exclaimed quickly. “But it 's not true about people to-day. All those dreadful things that are told in it--the cruelty of Joseph's brethren, for instance--did happen; but they happened so long, long ago. People have had lots and lots of time to grow better. Have n't they?” “They certainly have, my dear,” said John. “And then Christ came to wash away everybody's sins.” “He did,” said John. “So it seems to me we can disregard a great deal of religion. It does n't affect us. We are n't good like the angels, I know,” she remarked with the seriousness of a young disputant in the school of Duns Scotus; “but men don't kill each other, or rob each other, or be cruel to the weak, and nobody tells horrible lies, do they?” “I think we 've improved during the last few thousand years,” said John. “So,” said Stellamaris, continuing her argument, “as the fathers have no particular sins, they can't be visited much on the children. And if there are no wicked people to go to hell, hell must be empty, and therefore useless. So it's no good believing in it.” “Not the slightest good in the world,” said John, fervently. “And now that everybody loves God,” she went on, “I don't see what's the good of religion. I love you, Great High Belovedest, but there's no need for me to get a form of words to say 'I love you,' 'I love you,' all day long. One's heart says it.” “What 's your idea of God, Stella dear?” he asked in a curiously husky voice. She beckoned to him. He drew his chair nearer and bent toward her. She waved her fragile arms bare to the elbow. “I think we breathe God,” she said.