“Nay, Eveena!” I answered.  “If I had not told you, you must know that I cannot but wish for your company; but by your silence I fancied you disliked my proposal, yet did not like to decline it.”

The expression of surprise and perplexity in her face, though half pathetic, seemed so comical that I with difficulty suppressed a laugh, because for her it was evidently no laughing matter.  After giving her time, as I thought, to recover herself, I said—­

“Well, I suppose we may now join them at the morning meal?”

Something was still wrong, the clue to which I gathered by observing her shy glance at her head-dress and veil.

“Must you wear those?” I asked—­a question which gave her some such imperfect clue to my thoughts as I had found to hers.

“How foolish of me,” she said, smiling, “to forget how little you can know of our customs!  Of course I must wear my veil and sleeves; but to-day you must put on the veil, as you removed it last night.”

The awkwardness with which I performed this duty had its effect in amusing and cheering her; and the look of happiness and trust had come back to her countenance before the veil concealed it.

I made my request to Esmo, who answered, with some amusement—­

“Every house like ours has from six to a dozen larger or lighter carriages.  Of course they cost nothing save the original purchase.  They last for half a lifetime, and are not costly at the outset.  But I have news for you which, I venture to think, will be as little agreeable to you as to ourselves.  Your journey must begin tomorrow, and this, therefore, is the only opportunity you will have for such an excursion as you propose.”

“Then,” I said, “will Eveena still wish to share it?”

Even her mother’s face seemed to ask what in the world that could matter; but a movement of the daughter’s veiled head reminded me that I was blundering; and pressing her little hand as she lay beside me, I took her compliance for granted.

The morning mist had given place to hot bright sunshine when we started.  At first our road lay between enclosures like that which surrounded Esmo’s dwelling.

Presently the lines were broken here and there by such fields as I had seen in descending from Asnyca; some filled with crops of human food, some with artificial pastures, in which Unicorns or other creatures were feeding.  I saw also more than one field wherein the carvee were weeding or gathering fruit, piling their burdens in either case as soon as their beaks were full into bags or baskets.  Pointing out to Eveena the striking difference of colour between the cultivated fields and gardens and the woods or natural meadows on the mountain sides, I learned from her that this distinction is everywhere perceptible in Mars.  Natural objects, plants or animals, rocks and soil, are for the most part of dimmer, fainter, or darker tints than on Earth; probably owing to the