“You are too kind!” I responded with much feeling. I knew that he was as sincere as he was polite. This was at the last moment, and Elodia was present to bid me “good-by.” She seconded her brother’s invitation,—“O, yes, of course you must come back!” and turned the whole power of her beautiful face upon me, and for the first time gave me her hand. I had coveted it a hundred times as it lay lissome and white in her lap. I clasped it, palm to palm. It was as smooth as satin, and not moist,—I dislike a moist hand. I felt that up to that moment I had always undervalued the sense of touch,—it was the finest of all the senses! No music, no work of art, no wondrous scene, had ever so thrilled me and set my nerves a-quiver, as did the delicate, firm pressure of those magic fingers. The remembrance of it made my blood tingle as I went on my long journey from Thursia to Lunismar.
It was a long journey in miles, though not in time, we traveled like the wind.
Both Clytia and Calypso were at the station to meet me, with their two children, Freya and Eurydice. I learned that nearly all Caskians are named after the planetoids or other heavenly bodies,—a very appropriate thing, since they live so near the stars!
My heart went out to the children the moment my eyes fell upon their faces.
They were as beautiful as Raphael’s cherubs, you could not look upon them without thrills of delight. They were two perfect buds of the highest development humanity has ever attained to,—so far as we know. I felt that it was a wonderful thing to know that in these lovely forms there lurked no germs of evil, over their sweet heads there hung no Adam’s curse! They were seated in a pretty pony carriage, with a white canopy top lined with blue silk. Freya held the lines. It appeared that Eurydice had driven down and he was to drive back. The father and mother were on foot. They explained that it was difficult to drive anything but the little carriage up the steep path to their home on the hillside, half a mile distant.
“Who would wish for any other means of locomotion than nature has given him, in a country where the buoyant air makes walking a luxury!” I cried, stretching my legs and filling my lungs, with an unwonted sense of freedom and power.
I had become accustomed to the atmosphere of Paleveria, but here I had the same sensations I had experienced when I first landed there.
“If you would rather, you may take my place, sir?” said the not much more than knee-high Freya, ready to relinquish the lines. I felt disposed to laugh, but not so the wise parents.
“The little ponies could not draw our friend up the hill, he is too heavy,” explained Clytia.
“Thank you, my little man, all the same!” I added.