“Didn’t you?” said Charitas. “Hermione says you did.”

“You’d better tell me all she said,” replied Helen, “and then I’ll correct anything that’s wrong.”

“It seems silly to be telling you, Helen—I’d rather have you tell me what happened. But you know, we thought you just ran away with Paris, until Hermione explained that he took you against your will, and robbed Menelaus of some things of value, and altogether showed himself for what he was. Then the wind blew you to Egypt instead of Troy—I’m sure it was the gods protecting you—and there you appealed for help, and Thonis would have killed Paris if he hadn’t been in a sense a guest, entitled to sanctuary. But he made him go on to Troy alone, and you and the stolen things remained with Thonis and Polydamna until your husband came for you and brought you home. That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Is it Hermione’s idea,” said Helen, “that there was no war with Troy?”

“Dear me, no—I mean yes,” said Charitas, “the war was a deplorable but natural blunder, she says. Your husband and his friends went to Troy and demanded you back, and the Trojans said you weren’t there. Of course our men wouldn’t believe them. The Trojans said you were waiting for Menelaus to call for you in Egypt. That sounded terribly facetious, especially as they didn’t deny that Paris had reached home. So there was nothing for it but to fight. Naturally, if you had been there, as Hermione says, the Trojans would have been glad to give you up.”

“She says so, does she?” said Helen.

“Yes—to save the city; it stands to reason. But they could only defend themselves, once they were attacked, and when the city fell and the truth came out, it was too late. So much time lost! And nothing for Menelaus to do, after all, but go back to Egypt and bring you home. If I know your husband, Helen, he was irritated.”

“He was,” said Helen; “the voyage from Egypt was anything but agreeable. What else did Hermione say?”

“That’s all, I think—”

“Charitas, have you told these stories to any of our friends?”

“To every one I could, Helen; I knew it would make them happy to have your reputation cleared—we’re very fond of you.”

“I see I shall be busy for some time,” said Helen, “correcting all this nonsense. I may as well begin with you now, Charitas. You really didn’t believe Hermione?”

“Certainly I did! It was entirely plausible, and for your sake I wanted to believe it. I shouldn’t have been much of a friend if I hadn’t done my best.”

“You thought it plausible,” said Helen, “that Hermione should know the circumstances of my leaving home, when she was only a child at the time? For my sake you wished to believe I waited twenty years in Egypt because I couldn’t come home without Menelaus’ escort? Well, let me correct your error. Menelaus and I were blown down to Egypt on our way back. I never stayed with Thonis and Polydamna, though they are the people who sold us food and supplies. Paris and I made a very direct voyage to Troy; at least I enjoyed it and it didn’t seem long. I loved him dearly. He never would have taken me away if I hadn’t wanted to go. And he didn’t steal the furniture. Some pieces did disappear, I understand, in the confusion, but they must be here somewhere in Sparta; Paris took nothing to Troy, and Thonis certainly gave nothing back to Menelaus on our voyage home.”