ed than usual, as I fancied.

"It is my duty," I replied. "I want to elevate you; to brighten your
existence."

"My Aura!" he whispered; and I was not quite sure whether he meant me or
not.

We were moving rapidly along the broad road beside a river. There were
hills in the distance and the air from them was in the key of the
Pleiades. There were gardens everywhere full of sunlight translated into
flowers, and without an effort one divined the harmony of growing
things. I felt that something was about to happen; I knew it, but I did
not care to ask what it might be. Perhaps if I had tried I could not
have known; perhaps for that hour I was only an Earth girl and could
only know things as they know them, but I did not care.

We were going faster, faster every moment.

"Was it you who willed me to come out into the country?" I asked. "Have
you been watching for me and expecting me?"

We were moving now as clouds that rush across a moon.

"I think I have been watching for you all my life and willing you to
come," he said, which shows how dreadfully unjust we sometimes are to
humans.

"While I was on another planet?" I inquired. "While we were millions
and millions of miles apart? Suppose that I had never come to Earth?"

We were moving like the falling stars one journeys to the Dark
Hemisphere to see.

"I should have found you all the same," he whispered, half laughing, but
his blue eyes glistened. "I do not think that space itself could
separate us."

"Oh, do you realize that?" I asked, "and do you really know?"

"I know I have you with me now," he said, "and that is all I care to
know."

We were flying now, flying as comets fly to perihelion. The world about
was slipping from us, disintegrating and dissolving into cosmic thoughts
expressed in color. Only his eyes were actual, and the blue hills far
away, and the wind from them in the key of the Pleiades.

"There shall never any more be time or space for us," he said.

"But," I protested, "we must not overlook the fundamental facts."

"In all the universe there is just one fact," he cried, catching my hand
in his, and then--

(NOTE: _Here a portion of the logogram becomes indecipherable, owing,
perhaps, to the passage of some large bird across the line of
projection. What follows is the last recorded vibragraph to date._)

--Yes, dear, I know I should have been more circumspect. I should have
remembered my position, but I didn't. And that's why I'm