They fell into a long discussion, laughing a little at their fancies. Were these multitudes of worlds peopled as the Earth? Could it be that only upon Earth had occurred the right combination for the generation of life, so that the rest of the Universe was unpeopled? "It is unthinkable that they are all uninhabited," mused Crane. "There must be life. The beings may not exist in any form with which we are familiar--they may well be fulfilling some purpose in ways so different from ours that we should be unable to understand them at all." Margaret's eyes widened in startled apprehension, but in a moment she shook herself and laughed. "But there's no reason to suppose they would be awful," she remarked, and turned with renewed interest to the window. Thus days went by and the Skylark passed one solar system after another, with a velocity so great that it was impossible to land upon any planet. Margaret's association with Crane, begun as a duty, soon became an intense pleasure for them both. Taking notes or seated at the board in companionable conversation or sympathetic silence, they compressed into a few days more real companionship than is ordinarily enjoyed in months. Oftener and oftener, as time went on, Crane found the vision of his dream home floating in his mind as he steered the Skylark in her meteoric flight or as he strapped himself into his narrow bed. Now, however, the central figure of the vision, instead of being an indistinct blur, was clear and sharply defined. And for her part, more and more was Margaret drawn to the quiet and unassuming, but utterly dependable and steadfast young inventor, with his wide knowledge and his keen, incisive mind. * * * * * Sometimes, when far from any star, the pilot would desert his post and join the others at meals. Upon one such occasion Seaton asked: "How's the book on astronomy, oh, learned ones?" "It will be as interesting as Egyptian hieroglyphics," Margaret replied, as she opened her notebook and showed him pages of figures and symbols. "May I see it, Miss Spencer?" asked DuQuesne from across the small table, extending his hand. She looked at him, hot hostility in her brown eyes, and he dropped his hand. "I beg your pardon," he said, with amused irony. After the meal Seaton and Crane held a short consultation, and the former called to the girls, asking them to join in the "council of war." There was a moment's silence before Crane said diffidently: "We have been talking about DuQuesne, Miss Spencer, trying to decide a very important problem." Seaton smiled in spite of himself as the color again deepened in Margaret's face, and Dorothy laughed outright. "Talk about a red-headed temper! Your hair must be dyed, Peggy!" "I know I acted like a naughty child," Margaret said ruefully, "but he makes me perfectly furious and scares me at the same time. A few more remarks like that 'I beg your pardon' of his and I wouldn't have a thought left in my head!"