“I don’t know,” said Eteoneus. “It seems a little complicated … Do you mean I may go the moment we know where Hermione is?”

“Exactly.”

“Thank heaven, I can go now! What do you think of that! Here she is!”

“Where?”

“Right behind you—in the door.”

“What does this mean, Hermione? Where have you been?”

“Ask that question some other time—it’s irrelevant. I want to speak to you and mother.”

“We have a word or two to say to you. I suppose you realise the annoyance your behaviour—”

“Don’t be silly, father! Where’s mother?”

“Helen!—Oh, Helen! Hermione’s here!”

“I suppose I may go now?” said Eteoneus.

“You needn’t,” said Hermione. “There’s nothing in what I’m going to say you shouldn’t hear. I’d rather like you to hear it.”

“Hermione, dear child!” said Helen, “I’m glad indeed you came back to us.”

“I haven’t come back to you—I looked in to tell you something, and when you hear it you won’t be glad.”

“Your absence hasn’t improved your manners,” said Menelaus. “You need have no fear of Pyrrhus if you talk to him as you do to your parents. He’s a brave man, but he won’t take that on for life.”

“You still expect Pyrrhus to visit you?” said Hermione.

“Almost any time now.”

“He isn’t coming,” said Hermione. “That’s what I had to tell you.”

“Not coming?” said Menelaus. “He accepted the invitation, and Eteoneus reported him on the way. How about that, Eteoneus?”

“He can’t come now,” said Hermione.

“Just as well, perhaps,” said her father. “But I’d like to know why not?”

“He insulted Orestes.”

“What’s that got to do with it? Orestes doesn’t choose our guests for us! What are you trying to tell us?”

“Orestes and I met Pyrrhus on the road, and—”

“What were you doing with Orestes?” said Menelaus.

“That’s of no importance now,” said Hermione. “He and I were walking together when we met Pyrrhus. I guessed who it was, but said nothing. He stopped to inquire the way, and before I could do anything to prevent it, they found out each other’s name. Pyrrhus stiffened up at once, and said that as he was to be your guest, practically was your guest at the moment, he felt bound to offer me his protection. Orestes asked from whom he wanted to protect me, and Pyrrhus said, from a man who would lift his hand against his own mother. Before I realised what was happening, they had drawn their swords.”

“They actually had a fight?” said Menelaus.

“Pyrrhus is dead.”

“Hermione, Pyrrhus was my guest! Don’t tell me Orestes killed a man coming to my house, on my invitation?”

“Orestes killed him, father, in the circumstances I have just reported.”