never grow old in soul although
its form has existed for centuries, and the stone it's made of for
thousands of thousands of years. That's an illustration of the saying
that whom the gods love die young. Not that they die in youth, but
that they never really grow old, let them live for eighty years or
more, as we count time. They remain always young in soul, however long
their bodies last. Perhaps that's what Isaiah had in his mind when he
talked about a child dying at a hundred. _You'll_ never grow old, you
know."

"Shan't I? How nice," exclaimed Austin, brightly. "I certainly can't
fancy myself old a bit. How funny it would be if one always preserved
one's youthful shape and features, while one's skin got all cracked
and rough and wrinkled like that old youth over there! The effect
would be rather ghastly. But I don't want to grow old in any sense. I
should like to remain a boy all my life. I suppose that in the other
world people may live a thousand years and always remain eighteen. I'm
nearly eighteen myself."

St Aubyn could not help casting a glance of keen interest at the boy
as he said this. A presentiment shot through him that that might
actually be the destiny of the pure-souled, enthusiastic young
creature who had just uttered the suggestive words. Austin's long,
pale face, slender form, and bright, far-away expression carried with
them the idea that perhaps he might not stay very long where he was. A
sudden pang made itself felt as the possibility occurred to him, and
he rapidly changed the subject.

"I don't think I'd let my thoughts run too much on mystical questions
if I were you, Austin," he said. "I mean in connection with these
curious experiences you've been having. You have enough joy in life,
joy from the world around you, to dispense with speculations about the
unseen. All that sort of thing is premature, and if it takes too great
a hold upon you its tendency will be to make you morbid."

"It hasn't done so yet," replied Austin. "As far as I can judge of the
other world, it seems quite as joyous and lively as this one, and in
reality I expect it's a good deal more so. I don't hanker after
experiences, as you call them, but hitherto whenever they've come
they've always been helpful and agreeable--never terrifying or ghastly
in the very least. And I don't lay myself out for them, you know. I
just feel that there _is_ something near me that I can't see, and that
it's pleasant and friendly. The th