“Can you manage a boat?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, if it is not too large.”
“But it may be some new kind, something you are not acquainted with.”
“Then I shall have to study it out. But you are not afraid to go on the water with me, are you?”
“If there is anything in this pleasant world to give me fear it is water in such mass as that,” she replied, stretching out her hand toward the sea.
“But I thought you were afraid of nothing,” said I. “You have taught me the word,” she responded, “and I hardly know its meaning yet, but I must acknowledge that I shrink from the ocean. Its vastness, so much water, overwhelms me. You know it is many, many years since the moon had any large bodies of water.”
“So it is,” I exclaimed, “and everything will be new to you. What sport we shall have, and I shall make it my business to see that the water does not harm you.”
We hurried down to the shore and found the prettiest little boat I had ever seen all ready for us, as if we had ordered it for the occasion. It was evidently intended for children, but was fitted with both sails and oars, and also, I was glad to find, with a little screw and an electric apparatus to turn it. I was overjoyed with our good fortune, and prepared at once to embark. But Mona plainly hesitated. She kept up her musical chatter and tried to be as cheerful as ever, but I saw she was not as eager for the trip as I was. I did not let her see that I noticed her manner, however, and went on with my preparations. When I had brought the boat around so that she could step into it conveniently, she looked in my face, and asked in a voice which trembled with excitement:
“Are you sure you understand how to manage it? It is all so strange to me.”
She wanted to decline to make the venture, I thought, but her courage was too great. Now was the time when I proved myself still a son of the earth, with fallible judgment and a will too much engrossed with self. I had been wishing for an opportunity to do some difficult thing for Mona, something noble which should win her affection, and here, when the chance offered, I did not recognize it. The truly heroic action would have been to respect Mona’s feeling and give up the idea entirely, for I knew she had a strong aversion to trusting herself on the water. But it was really my own pleasure and not hers that I was seeking, for in answer to her question I said hurriedly: