Elsie Haggard looked at her sharply, suspecting her of flippancy.
Nothing clearly was further from the girl's mind. Her face was unusually soft, almost dreamy.
"Wherever there are horses and dogs and creatures He is, don't you think?" she said, quite unconscious that she was quoting inexactly a recently discovered saying dear to Mr. Haggard.
"Ye-es," answered Elsie dubiously. "Of course, they've got no souls."
The dreamer vanished.
"I don't agree," flashed the girl.
Elsie mounted on her high horse.
"Perhaps you know more about it than my father," she said.
"He doesn't agree, either," retorted the girl mercilessly.
She was right; and Elsie knew it. The vicar's daughter made a lame recovery. Theology was always her father's weak point.