before. How would I better start?—by advising them all to dare her to do her worst, and prove that no harm comes?"
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Marjorie. "That wouldn't be the way at all;—that would make her seem real and big and something worth daring;—and what you want is to prove that she isn't anything—and doesn't live anywhere—and hasn't any power to be dared—and that she is just nothing,—nothing but an emptiness without any outside."
"Good!" said the boy. "I like that last;—but how shall I begin?"
Marjorie thought for a minute. "Well," she said, after a while, "an emptiness never teaches anything, so we'll have to put someone real into the place you've been giving to her;—someone real who makes real rules, and I think the best person would be Understanding—or else Common Sense,—or both of them would be better yet.
