“Now, that shows the idea of hospitality Orestes has,” said Eteoneus. “I’ll never again be sorry I kept him out. If there’s a difference in such horrors, this is a bit worse than killing Clytemnestra. She at least had committed a crime herself.”

“I shall never get over this!” said Menelaus. “If I could fall dead as I speak, I’d take it as a kindness of fate. I was none too friendly with Pyrrhus or his father. I asked him to visit me, and in good faith he came at once. Now one of my relatives met him on the way and killed him. What excuse can I give, to others or to myself?”

“Did Orestes know Pyrrhus was your father’s guest?” said Helen.

“Yes,” said Hermione.

“I owe it to Pyrrhus to find his body, and bury it handsomely,” said Menelaus. “Then I suppose I ought to take vengeance on Orestes. If I don’t, people will think me an accomplice in a trap for my former enemy.”

“You can’t take vengeance on Orestes!” said Hermione. “He did nothing wrong. I saw the whole thing, and had he done otherwise, I should despise him. Pyrrhus insulted him—I felt as though he were insulting me too. Don’t misunderstand me—I’m not trying to defend Orestes; he doesn’t need defence. It wasn’t for my happiness, nor for anyone else’s, that Pyrrhus was coming. I’m glad Orestes killed him. If he hadn’t done it, I should. I made up my mind to that, the day father told me he was going to arrange a marriage. If you compel people to act in self-defence, they’ll act!”

“Clytemnestra!” said Menelaus.

“My conventional daughter!” said Helen.

“I see we’ve reached the end,” said Menelaus. “If any new catastrophe can overtake my house, at least I don’t know the name of it. There’s nothing more to discuss; if Hermione wants Orestes after this, we’ll have to admit she knows the worst about him, and they say there’s no arguing in matters of taste. May I ask, Hermione, merely for information, if you dream of being the wife of this murderer?”

“I don’t dream,” said Hermione, “I am.”

“I thought so,” said Helen.

“What did you say you were?” said Menelaus.

“His wife. I told you quite clearly I was going to marry him. We weren’t married when we met Pyrrhus, and that was awkward, though the quarrel would not have been avoided, probably, even if we had been. But I showed Orestes that people would remark on our travelling together, when they spoke of the killing, and we ought to marry at once. So we did.”

“You may leave the house!” said Menelaus. “Eteoneus, kindly open that door for her.”

“Thank you, Eteoneus. I had no intention of staying so long; I’ve been keeping Orestes waiting. Good-bye!”