"_Consciousness_," he rejoined. And then he added gravely: "That, my
dear, is the statement of a scientific man of the Twentieth Century."

Mrs. Bittacy sat forward in her chair so that her silk flounces crackled
louder than the newspaper. She made a characteristic little sound
between sniffling and snorting. She put her shoes closely together, with
her hands upon her knees.

"David," she said quietly, "I think these scientific men are simply
losing their heads. There is nothing in the Bible that I can remember
about any such thing whatsoever."

"Nothing, Sophia, that I can remember either," he answered patiently.
Then, after a pause, he added, half to himself perhaps more than to her:
"And, now that I come to think about it, it seems that Sanderson once
said something to me that was similar.

"Then Mr. Sanderson is a wise and thoughtful man, and a safe man," she
quickly took up, "if he said that."

For she thought her husband referred to her remark about the Bible, and
not to her judgment of the scientific men. And he did not correct her
mistake.

"And plants, you see, dear, are not the same as trees," she drove her
advantage home, "not quite, that is."

"I agree," said David quietly; "but both belong to the great vegetable
kingdom."