“Are they not good?” she asked with a look of wonder and sorrowful compassion.  “Then how unhappy they must be.”

“Some are good and some are bad.  Everything is mixed in our world—­the strong and the weak—­the rich and the poor—­the happy and the miserable.”

“But do the good not help the bad?”

“Yes, to a certain extent; but life is a struggle there; every man for himself; and the good very often find it hard to secure a little happiness for themselves.”

“How can they be happy when they know that others are suffering and in want, that others are bad?  I long to go and help them.”

“Darling, you are an angel, and I adore you; but, believe me, you alone could do very little.  One has already come and taught us how to love and cherish each other, that the strong should help the weak, the rich give to the poor, and the happy comfort the wretched.  His followers believe that He came from Heaven, and yet after nineteen hundred years I am afraid that some of them do not fully understand the plain meaning of His words, or else find it convenient to ignore them.”

“But many of us will go there.  We will bring the sinful and the suffering over here to Womla and make them happy.”

“I am touched by your simple faith in us, dearest It does you honour, but I fear it is mistaken.  What would you say if the very people you had saved and befriended were to turn round and take your country from you, perhaps even destroy you?  Such ingratitude is not unknown in our world.”

“If they are so wicked they have the more need of help.”

“In any case, darling, I cannot take you with me, for the vessel we came in is too small; but I will come back as soon as possible and stay with you in Womla.  How happy we shall be!”

“In Womla—­no.  We should not be quite at rest.”

“Then we shall seek out some desert star where we can live only for each other.”

“You do not understand me.  Neither in Womla nor in a desert star could we be happy in a selfish love, knowing that others were in pain.”

“Better I had not spoken of my world at all.”

“No, a thousand times no!” cried Alumion with fervour.  “For you have opened up to me a new source of happiness—­of blessedness which I have never known before.  Only let us go together to your world and minister to the unfortunate.”

“Well, darling, we will think of it; but see! the sun has set and you are free again.  I came to marry you, but since I must return so soon to my own world, perhaps it would be well to postpone the ceremony until I come back here.”

“Why should we do that?”

Evidently she had no idea of the dangers of the journey, or how long it would take.

“If anything should happen to me.  If I should die and never return.”

“Ah! do not speak of that.  The Giver will preserve you.”

“But life is uncertain.”