“That depends entirely on the point of view. But I cannot explain further without bringing up the subject which you have forbidden me to speak about.” “What subject is that? I have forgotten that I have ever put you under such a prohibition.” “Why, the subject that is always nearest my heart and nearest my lips, the subject of my great love for you, dear Mona, so different from my regard for any other person.” “Oh, I remember now, but I assure you I had forgotten all about it.” And here her voice suddenly lost much of its tenderness and assumed a character which she rarely employed, as she continued, “But let us not discuss that topic again. I already know all you have to say on it, and why should we waste our time with such useless talk when there are so many more valuable things to occupy our attention?” “Forgive me,” I exclaimed. “If you will promise me not to sing in that tone again I will talk about anything you wish.” “I agree,” she responded, and never did her accents sound sweeter. Somehow I was not so much affected by Mona’s coldness this time as before, and I was able to recover my cheerfulness at once. I then determined to give her no occasion for another rebuff if I could help it, but to do all in my power to entertain her with what she called sensible conversation. There were many things connected with society on the earth in which she took a lively interest, and I made a great effort to talk myself into her favor, so that she would not say again that she preferred the doctor’s company to mine. We had been riding a couple of hours or more, generally at a swift pace, when, from a high point in the road, we saw we were approaching the shore of the sea or a large lake. Mona was so delighted with the view that I said: “If we can find any kind of a boat on the shore we will have a ride on the water.” “Can you manage a boat?” she asked. “Oh, yes, if it is not too large.” “But it may be some new kind, something you are not acquainted with.” “Then I shall have to study it out. But you are not afraid to go on the water with me, are you?” “If there is anything in this pleasant world to give me fear it is water in such mass as that,” she replied, stretching out her hand toward the sea. “But I thought you were afraid of nothing,” said I. “You have taught me the word,” she responded, “and I hardly know its meaning yet, but I must acknowledge that I shrink from the ocean. Its vastness, so much water, overwhelms me. You know it is many, many years since the moon had any large bodies of water.” “So it is,” I exclaimed, “and everything will be new to you. What sport we shall have, and I shall make it my business to see that the water does not harm you.”