“But don’t you sometimes find you get dissentient spirits? Don’t they rebel against this formality? Don’t they want to make more money than is allowed by custom? Don’t you sometimes have trouble from these spirits?”
Waz-Y-Kjesta smiled. “In our books of science we have read that in other places than ours—there were troubles like those you name. That man fought man—brother hated brother—women sorrowed, and children were rendered homeless. We, in Keemar, know not the meaning of such things. We are happy; we are content with our life; why should we complain?”
There were no ugly streets and lines of shops in this wonderful city; but the Omdurlis were to be found here and there at the edge of the grass covered paths, while the houses lay further back. Everywhere were to be seen happy-faced men and women, and laughing children. Bhors driven by colis, and bhors driven by the etheric power that was used for lighting and propelling purposes, thronged the streets, and the whole scene was gay and beautiful.
Although the sky was a wonderful blue, and all the buildings were of white and brilliant coloured marbles, the whole effect had none of the tawdry or bizarre appearance of the cities of the East, in the world; but the whole was soothing and pleasing to the jaded nerves of the earth folks. They turned a corner and found themselves in a short road ending in a cul-de-sac formed by high gates and marble pillars.
“This is one of the houses,” said Waz-Y-Kjesta. “Come, and see it.” The garden entranced Mavis before she saw the house. It was like a picture out of the fairyland she had dreamt of as a child—the fairyland she had dreamt of as a woman! For are not all true women half fairies at heart? Is not the mysticism of life itself a fairy gift to a pure woman’s mind? Mavis had lived her life among the fairies. As a child she had played with them in bluebell woods and primrose glades; and when she renewed her own childhood in her baby, she renewed through him her acquaintance with the fairies.
Trees overhung the grassy path which was on a gradual upward slope. Burns ran down on either side—rushing, laughing, maddening burns. Tiny flowers peeped out among the grass; lichen-covered rocks reared up majestically from the centre of still pools. Gnarled trees lined the way, and their twisted roots formed steps up the hillside. The top spread out plateau-wise, and a blue marble house was built in the very centre. It was not very large; a verandah ran all round it on both floors, and the foliage and creeping plants added to its beauty. The door was open wide, and the splashing fountain in the entrance hall looked inviting and cool. Apart from the kitchen and servants’ quarters, there were on the ground floor only two living rooms and the entrance hall. Each of the six bedrooms on the upper floor had magnificent bathrooms leading from them. They were like miniature swimming baths, shallow at one end, deepening to six feet, and the water was hot and cold in the pipes. The whole house was decorated in a delicate shade of blue, and was absolutely ready for use. Mavis was entranced. “May we stay here?” she asked.
“I will acquaint the Jkak with your decision,” answered the Waz. “Now,” turning to Sir John, “through the garden yonder, and down a short woodland path is a garden house. Would you care to see it? It might suit you, and you would be all near to one another.”
“It sounds most attractive,” said Alan.
They walked through the garden and down the hill on the other side of it, and saw, nestling among the trees, the tiniest house they had so far seen on Jupiter. It was an absolutely perfect bachelor establishment, and the three men decided at once that it was an ideal spot to live in.
“The Jkak is eager to see your air bird,” announced Waz-Y-Kjesta. “When may he go?”