“Mother! How could you?” said Hermione.

“I won’t go into the argument now,” said Helen—“I’m growing tired of myself as a theme for conversation, and it’s you I wanted to talk about. But I might leave this suggestion with you—that of all those who went to Troy on my account, I’m the only one who returned with an unimpaired sense of morality. If this talk has opened your eyes in the least degree, you may watch the people around you, and watch yourself, and you’ll see what I mean. We have the right to lead our own lives—you’ve the right even to marry Orestes, though I still hope you won’t. But that right implies another—to suffer the consequences. If I’d been home to train you properly, I shouldn’t be telling you now that for intelligent people the time for repentance is in advance. Do your best, and if it’s a mistake, hide nothing and be glad to suffer for it. That’s morality. I don’t observe much of it in this neighbourhood.”

“It’s only fair to remember,” said Hermione, “that Charitas has been a good friend to me in your absence. She’d be astonished if she knew what you think of her.”

“She knows now, and she is astonished,” said Helen. “I consider her a dangerous woman. Mark my words, she’ll do a lot of harm. What sort of boy is that son of hers?”

“Damastor? Oh, he’s all right,” said Hermione. “He hasn’t his mother’s steadiness of character, but he’s harmless. He’s devoted to Charitas.”

“What do you mean by harmless?” asked Helen.

“Oh, he’s well-behaved, sheltered and quiet, a bit young even for his years.”

“You must admire his type,” said Helen.

“What, Damastor?” cried Hermione.

“His mother says he’s devoted to you.”

“To me? I scarcely know him! Oh, I’ve seen him at his mother’s, but not often. He’s shown no signs of devotion, thank heaven! I’ve thought of him as a mere child.”

“Then he hasn’t been calling on you lately?”

“Never—who told you that?”

“Charitas. She says he told her. I thought myself it wasn’t so. They’re a very respectable family. No more than the normal amount of lying, I dare say. You might do worse.”

PART II

The younger generation

I

“Menelaus,” said Helen, “may I have a word with you?”

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

“I want to talk with you about Hermione.”

“Now, what’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to discuss her future. We haven’t given it much thought yet, and you must feel as I do that we should plan together for the happiness of our child.”

“That can wait,” said Menelaus. “I’ve a great deal to do this morning. The thing isn’t important, anyway; Hermione isn’t unhappy.”

“It’s important to me, Menelaus. Hermione may not be unhappy—she isn’t, I hope—but she has been much neglected. Now that we are home again we ought to study her, and provide the sort of life that will develop the best in her, and give her satisfaction as she grows older. I don’t see how you can postpone the obligation a moment longer.”