I do not undertake to say which of these two presented the higher type of womanhood, and I certainly entered into no such speculations about them at that time, but I never had any difficulty in deciding that Mona was the one I loved. I did not, of course, relish her fondness for others. In that respect I considered her nature altogether too ardent, but I found I must get accustomed to it, as she would not change. It made me quite despondent at times, fearing I could never lead her to feel any special liking for me. Then when she smiled upon me and sang so sweetly to me, I thought I ought to be happy though I had to share her heart with all the world. Still I did not relax my efforts to make my share larger. “Mona,” I said, one day, “I wish you would ask me to do something real hard for you.” “Why?” she asked. “So that I could show you how much I love you.” “But you have already shown me,” she said. “I cannot think of anything more difficult than you have done. Did you not keep up a firm belief that I would be found, even after the doctor and these wise men of Mars had lost all hope, and did you not, by your enthusiasm, prevail on them to enter on a difficult search for me on the moon? I have heard all about your deep concern for me and how you were affected by hearing singing which you thought was like mine. And now that I have been found, you are so watchful for my comfort and like to be so near me all the time, that I am sure I do not need any further proof of your strong attachment. But why do you pay me so much attention? Why do you not like to be with Antonia as much as with me?” “Because I do not love her as much as I do you.” “Why do you love me so? Because I took you down to my quiet home and saved you from being blown off the top of the moon?” “No, the doctor and I are both grateful to you for that kindness, but gratitude isn’t love.” “I haven’t done anything else for you,” she said. “It isn’t for anything you have done that I love you.” “What then?” “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose it is because I can’t help it.” “Oh, then you are becoming like me, for I can’t help loving everybody.” “I shall never be good enough for that,” said I. “What is love, as you understand it?” asked Mona. “Love--love,” I hesitated; “why, it is the feeling I have in my heart for you. Love is what kept hope alive when you were lost and gave me such joy when I heard your voice and knew we had found you. Love makes every task light that is done for you and every place where you are the brightest spot in the universe. Even this delightful world of Mars is more beautiful than ever because you are here. Love, if mutual, is a precious bond, uniting two hearts and making them beat in harmony. Cannot you and I be joined in heart, Mona?” “My dear friend,” she replied, “I am very sorry I cannot share your feeling, but I do not understand such love as you have been trying to describe.”