“My friend, you must wait until you witness it. You will understand us more fully when you have been to the home of Ak-Marn. Now to-night, there is a small party being given by Kulmervan and his fellow students at the Observatory. I have been asked to bring you all. Will you come?”
“With pleasure,” said Alan.
“The Jkak is sending you all a complete outfit, my friend. Your clothes are old, travel-stained and torn—they are sombre too. If you accept his present, wear to-night your brightest garments.”
“Will you help me to adjust them?” asked Alan.
The Waz drew himself up with a haughty air, but it as soon passed. “I was forgetting, my friend, that you know not our customs. The serving men will assist you. When you reach home, you will find your house fully staffed, and Quori, a most efficient steward and adviser.”
“What about meeting to-night for the party?”
“I will call for you as the Kymo sinks. You will have bhors sufficient for your use.”
When they reached home they found a note awaiting them from Mavis, asking them to come over and have lunch with her and Desmond, and they walked through the garden to the other house. Mavis was waiting for them, her cheeks dimpling and her eyes sparkling. “It’s a wonderful country,” said she. “I’ve nothing to do all day; the cooking and cleaning seem to go by clockwork. Morkaba is Baby’s personal attendant and mine; she has arranged my frock. How do you like it?” and she twirled round on one foot showing the soft draperies of Keemarnian dress.
It was of a soft green, embroidered with coloured silks and her hair was left loose flowing around her shoulders, and caught above her ears by a narrow fillet of gold that gleamed as she tossed her head.
“I like it much better than the frumpy old English fashions,” said she. “Desmond is not quite ready yet—he will look splendid.”