Eh?--safe?--why not?' returned he, rousing himself from his reverie. 'A peep through a telescope ought not to upset a young fellow who has seen Europe, and got a double first! Besides, my dear, you mustn't expect that he will see as much as you can!--well, at all events, you can let him see the observatory and the arrangements, and then, if it seem advisable to put off the rest till another evening, why, so be it!' Diana stood silent a few moments, with her head lifted, in an attitude common with her, looking out into the night. Then she moved towards her father with a slow, sauntering, royal step--no other woman ever trod as she did--and, placing her hand within his arm, drew him to the window. They had some conversation together in an undertone; I did not willingly listen to it, and I cannot even be sure that what I heard was not--in part at least--the creation of my own fancy. But my invalid condition had made my hearing, as well as my other senses, preternaturally acute, and the conversation seemed to me to run somewhat thus: 'Did you see his face, as he lay there?' Diana had asked. 'Yes, my dear; a good-looking set of features enough: what then?' 'Don't jest about it, father.' 'Well, well, my dear, I see what you are driving at. Yes, there is a resemblance, certainly; I noticed it from the first; but it might occur in a dozen or twenty instances beside this one. There are more handsome fellows in the world than you think for!' Diana smiled. 'And the day--is that an accident, too, father? And--' here she pointed upwards, apparently at a certain constellation near Orion--'is that conjunction one that might occur again?' 'Now, Diana! no fatalism! Be yourself, my little girl!' 'But ... it frightens me, father!' she murmured, with a sudden tremulousness, clinging closer to his arm, and leaning her cheek on his broad shoulder. But at this juncture, being determined to hear no more, I got up from the sofa, and, walking to the other end of the room, began to turn over a portfolio of drawings that was resting on an easel there. I had just come upon one representing a young man in a reclining posture, the right knee drawn up, the left arm hanging relaxed, and the head bowed forward in a shadow that obscured the face, rendering its contour indistinguishable:--I was just examining this sketch when my uncle and cousin, still arm-in-arm, approached. 'Your lunar passport is made out,' said the former; 'and here is the courier to guide you thither, if you feel equal to the journey. Ah!' he added, bending over the sketch that I still held in my hand, 'how does that design strike you?' It puzzles me!' I replied. 'In the general pose it is very like a famous antique bas-relief of Endymion that I remember seeing in Rome, and which is supposed to date back to the time of Phidias.' 'An antique bas relief of the time of Phidias!' repeated my uncle, musingly. 'How now, Diana!'