“I’m sure you’ll be happy, Alan. Chlorie is so sweet—so human, so understanding. But—” there came a perplexed note into her voice. “I’m afraid of only one thing, Alan. You are sure you are not too—too material—for these Jovians. You are going to mate with a girl almost—spiritual, if I may so put it. Now—the time is drawing near, I’m so afraid—” “Don’t be afraid, little woman. I’ve learnt a great deal since I came here. The past is growing dim. My love for Chlorie is so great that I think it is cancelling all my earthly senses. I have only one fear for the future.” “And that is?” “My inborn dread of death. Not that I fear death for myself, but dread its coming and separating me from my love. She will not have that fear. Until I can comfort myself in the belief of Schlerik-itata, I shall have that fear always with me.” “Death!” Mavis looked dreamily into the distance where her son and his father were romping together. “I think I, too, have a tiny bit of fear left,” said she, “but I am trying to put it away. We have left the old world behind us. I was wrong to put doubts in your heart, Alan. You’ve chosen wisely, I am sure. Good luck and good fortune be yours!” CHAPTER XV THE TRIUMPH OF AK-ALAN The populace of Hoormoori were wildly excited, for the time had come when their Princess, the Ipso-Rorka of all Keemar, was to wed. Every place was full, the streets were thronged with visitors, for people had come from all parts of Jupiter to witness the long ceremonies and jubilations that preceded the actual wedding. Parties came from the warmth of Xzor, from the heat of Paila, from the temperate breezes of the Isles of Kalœ. Every dwelling house in Hoormoori was full; every public guest house had used every available space for their overflowing guests. The streets were gaily decorated; the trees were adorned with coloured lights, and across the wide boulevards silken flags were hung. There were festoons of flowers and leaves everywhere. Every window was bright with silken rugs; the whole scene was gay and brilliant. The first ceremony of interest was the admittance of Alan into the bosom of the Rorka’s family. In a wonderful golden robe Alan stood at the foot of the Rorka’s throne in the great white Throne Room in the palace. The whole apartment was thronged with guests, and by the Rorka’s side sat the Princess. She had on her face a grave, sweet smile, and in her court robes of blue and gold she made a regal figure.