each finds his life's companion, the one necessary to
round out mere existence into a perfection of living that no person, man
or woman, can ever know alone. I need not speak to you of the wonders of
love or of the completion and fullness of life that it brings, for all
four of you, children though you are, know love in full measure.

"At fifty years of age the man, now mentally mature, is recalled to his
family home, as his father's brain is now losing some of its vigor and
keenness. The father then turns over his work to the son by means of the
educator--and when the weight of the accumulated knowledge of a hundred
thousand generations of research is impressed upon the son's brain, his
play is over."

"What does the father do then?"

"Having made his brain record, about which I have told you, he and his
companion--for she has in similar fashion turned over her work to her
successor--retire to the Country of Age, where they rest and relax after
their century of effort. They do whatever they care to do, for as long
as they please to do it. Finally, after assuring themselves that all is
well with the children, they decide that they are ready for the Change.
Then, side by side as they have labored, they pass."

Now at the door of the observatory, Dorothy paused and shrank back
against Seaton, her eyes widening as she stared at Orlon.

"No, daughter, why should we fear the Change?" he answered her unspoken
question, calm serenity in every inflection of his quiet voice. "The
life-principle is unknowable to the finite mind, as is the
All-Controlling Force. But even though we know nothing of the sublime
goal toward which it is tending, any person ripe for the Change can, and
of course does, liberate the life-principle so that its progress may be
unimpeded."

* * * * *

In a spacious room of the observatory, in which the Terrestrials and
their Norlaminian hosts had been long engaged in study and discussion,
Seaton finally rose and extended a hand toward his wife.

"Well, that's that, then, Orlon, I guess. We've been thirty hours
without sleep, and for us that's a long time. I'm getting so dopey I
can't think a lick. We'd better go back to the _Skylark_ and turn in,
and after we've slept nine hours or so I'll go over to Rovol's
laboratory and Crane'll come back here to you."

"You need not return to your vessel," said Orlon. "I know that its
somewhat cramped quarters have become irksome