invariably by a charitable agreement to differ.

About the time of the addition of the name of John Blake to the roll
of British Chivalry, a book on Mars came their way--it was one by a
speculative astronomer which suggests that the red planet is the home
of reasoning beings akin to humanity. Isobel read it and was not
impressed. Indeed, in the vigorous language of youth, she opined that
it was all "made-up rot."

Godfrey read it also and came to quite a different conclusion. The
idea fired him and opened a wide door in his imagination, a quality
with which he was well provided. He stared at Mars through the large
Hall telescope, and saw, or imagined that he saw the canals, also the
snow-caps and the red herbage. Isobel stared too and saw, or swore
that she saw--nothing at all--after which they argued until their
throats were dry.

"It's all nonsense," said Isobel. "If only you'll study the rocks and
biology, and Darwin's 'Origin of Species,' and lots of other things,
you will see how man came to develop on this planet. He is just an
accident of Nature, that's all."

"And why shouldn't there be an accident of Nature on Mars and
elsewhere?" queried Godfrey.

"Perhaps, but if so, it is quite another accident and has nothing to
do with us."

"I don't know," he answered. "Sometimes," here his voice became dreamy
as it had a way of doing, "I think that we pass on, all of us, from