h thoughts
could be transferred over millions of miles, I said: "But where is this
wonderful instrument of which you speak, Zarlah?"

We had reached the lake, and now stood on the bank overlooking its
glistening surface.

A tremor ran through her slight form as she drew closer to me, and said
imploringly: "You must not ask to see it! Oh, Harold! Do you not realize
the grief this instrument has brought into our lives? Have you partaken
of the sweetness so deeply, that you fail to perceive the bitterness
that lies beneath? You can be but a beloved memory to me--the memory of
a lover millions of miles away--but we are separated by that which is
far greater than distance!"

Her voice died away in a sob, and, as I drew her gently toward me, she
wept bitterly. Thus had I of Earth brought tears into a world that had
not known sorrow for hundreds of years.

"But, dearest," I argued, tenderly smoothing back the soft brown hair,
and striving to cheer her, "we are now commencing on an era of planet
communication, and it may not be long before a means is discovered of
actually transferring people from one planet to another. Did not
explorers, some years ago, have this in mind, when they attempted to
reach the nearest moon? And even though they failed to reach their goal,
who knows that they were not drawn to some planet that was in opposition
at that time, and are now prepared for a return journey at the next
opposition? With the complete absence of resistance there is in space,
their speed would become terrific--thousands of miles a minute--and at
such a rate it would be possible to reach a planet in opposition, long
before their month's supply of oxygen became exhausted. Heat would not
be generated as there would be no friction until the planet's
atmosphere was reached, but long before this they would have applied
their repelling force, which would reduce their speed, thus enabling
them to sail gently through the atmosphere and alight safely on the
planet's surface."

Although I had not as much confidence in such an achievement as I sought
to inspire (well knowing the vast difference between a spiritual
transfer and a material one over such a tremendous distance), I wished,
above all, to cheer Zarlah. Indeed, I feared that grief might bring the
most serious consequences on Mars. I was greatly relieved, therefore,
upon observing her countenance light up with a sudden interest, as I
expressed these sanguine predictions as to