# A Few Hours in a Far-Off Age/Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI.
HERE is a very animated group! Amongst them are those with whom I passed my morning. No trace of the gloom their most unpleasant studies had caused them to feel so sadly. Bright glances and joyous sounds from all!
How changed are the two rebels, Syra Kaido and Frederick! If marriage were not forbidden to them for the next five or six years, I should think they would soon be "comrades." I am not sure if I have before told that wife and husband are here so designated; the old terms signifying master and servant having been abandoned ages ago.
There is my beautiful Veritée, laughing merrily at something her father has just said to her and her mother.
Now they all join the song and turn to leave. I will not again lose them.
Wottah runs after us with more of his nonsense—sung this time—and creates fresh hilarity between the young people.
We have descended the steps and I now see many entrances of the same size as the one by which I stood in the early morning.
We settle ourselves in a handsome, comfortably constructed carriage. Veritée moves a small handle—we rise, over the throngs of people, clear of the buildings, and away we go. Oh, the pleasurable feeling! Nothing has ever equalled it, save in dream travels. Mid-day song floating after us—very faintly now, more like whispered music. And ​the glorious scene! or more correctly panoramas—as we fly over the pretty houses, surrounded by flourishing gardens;—for here are no buildings crowded together, breeding disease in its many cruel shapes. Every dwelling has around it a certain quantity of land, in which are growths of use and decoration. No sign of poverty in homes or people. Green restful valleys, aspiring hills, and on one side magnificent mountains, with their marvellous clefts, varying heights, and many shades of beautiful tints. The whole is just what one would love to look at and think about for ever.
We have come a great distance, and are now descending. We alight in a paved enclosure; evidently the resting-place for our carriage, for there is one part roofed to protect it from rain.
House stands on columns a few feet high. A flight of steps, so perfectly constructed that no one feels any exertion in mounting them, leads to a lobby, from which we pass into a corridor running the whole length of the house—which is prettily curved, as are all buildings, more or less; some being quite circular. At a glance I think its length is about 80 feet, and 20 feet in width. In the outer wall are large, high bay-windows, reaching nearly to the floor, stained to cause a pleasant soft light, yet not excluding view of the landscape. So they look much like magnificent pictures hung against the wall—for the glass of windows is in one piece. Between them are statues in niches, and ornamented supports, holding books and music. The roof is slightly arched—I know the acoustic qualities are faultless. In the inner wall are handsome glass doors, opening into suites of rooms.
​It must be one o'clock. No one has yet complained of hunger or talked of food—I wonder if these people ever eat!
While the young students are on their way to their respective apartments, the parents exchange a look of affectionate pride. Oh, that I were an artist! I would give my century some delighting pictures from this distant age!