"Miss Aura," he went on,--he has called me that ever since that little
embryonic made his stupid blunder, and I have not corrected him--here it
is almost necessary to have some sort of a name--"Miss Aura, don't you
think we have been mere acquaintances long enough? I'm only human--"

"Yes, of course," I interrupted, "but then that is not your fault--"

"I'm glad you look upon my misfortune so charitably," he said, a trifle
more puzzled 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?"