“I wish I hadn’t asked Pyrrhus!” said Menelaus. “Do you think it’s too late now to postpone the visit?”

“Can the messenger reach him before he starts—or shortly after?” said Helen. “It wouldn’t do to turn him back from your very door. If you could get word that your brother is dead, and that my sister killed him, Pyrrhus won’t want to come, anyway, and he’ll understand why we can’t have him at present.”

“I’ll do that,” said Menelaus. “I never wanted him, and it’s not too late if the messenger hurries … There’s another thing, Helen. I hear that one of your girls in the house has been misbehaving.”

“None of them, so far as I know,” said Helen.

“Yes, what’s her name—Adraste—is in trouble.”

“If you call it misbehaving,” said Helen. “Trouble is the more accurate word. A very respectable young man in the neighbourhood has been making love to her.”

“Damastor, isn’t it? You told me something about the affair a while ago.”

“Yes,” said Helen, “it’s Damastor.”

“A very decent sort of boy, I’ve always thought. I didn’t imagine he’d do anything improper.”

“He wouldn’t, in a direct way, but he has plenty of what you might call negative meanness. He made love to Adraste, as I say, and persuaded her that they were soul-mates, with vows of eternal faithfulness, and promises to marry her. A very old story. He meant it all—he’s not a bad boy. But his mother has sent him out of harm’s way, as she puts it, and he has allowed himself to be sent. In plain words, Adraste is deserted.”

“You mean she has been living with him?”

“She will have a child very soon. I’m trying to cheer her up all I can. She’s little more than a child herself; I wish she had been spared this early cruelty.”

“I wish she had left that boy alone!” said Menelaus. “Didn’t you know this scandal was going on?”

“This what?” said Helen.

“Scandal!” said Menelaus. “The word is familiar to you. A woman, employed in my house, misbehaving with the young son of my old friend and neighbour! It’s no time for another scandal; my reputation can’t stand it!”

He took to walking up and down again, and Helen looked past him, out toward the garden, as though he were not there.