“Will you do me the justice,” said Menelaus, “to remember that I too may have ideas of life and love? That I too, though less remarkable than Achilles and you, have a part in the world, important at least to me? When people marry, and one of them is exceptionally brilliant, it’s enough to ask of the obscure husband that he be proud of his wife, helpful to her career, and loyally keep in the background. He deserves some reward, I think.”

“He does,” said Helen, “and he’s practically certain to get the reward he deserves. He’ll lose his wife. Poor thing, she thought she was marrying a man, a great man, some one to be her mate, not her slave. She probably has exaggerated his merits, as he has hers, but she’ll make believe he has them, as long as she can. When he begins to insist that he’s nobody, in comparison with her, it’s all over.”

“What is?” said Menelaus.

“Their life together,” said Helen.

“But suppose, speaking in the abstract,” said Menelaus, “suppose the deserted husband went after her and brought her back; that would be an improvement, wouldn’t it? She’d begin to think more of him, wouldn’t she?”

“In the abstract, yes,” said Helen—“especially if he were able to manage it all single-handed.”

“My word!” said Menelaus.

“And you’ll ask Pyrrhus to come at once?” said Helen.

“Not at once nor later!” said Menelaus.

“It’s at once we need him,” said Helen.

“He’ll never set foot in my house!” said Menelaus.

“The details can be arranged at any time,” said Helen. “The important thing is to get him here soon.”

II

“Hermione, my child, come here,” said Menelaus. “I must ask you a question. Sit down. Have you the love of life?”

“What’s that?” said Hermione.

“Don’t ask me hard questions—answer mine,” said her father. “Do you love life?”

“Oh, yes indeed!” said Hermione.

“Very well, then, do you love it enough?”

“How should I know? What is enough?”

“We will now apply the test,” said Menelaus. “Do you earnestly desire to marry Orestes?”

“Yes, I do,” said Hermione.

“That answers it. You haven’t the love of life.”

“I don’t see how that proves it,” said Hermione.

“Nor I,” said Menelaus, “but it proves it to your mother, who knows more than we do about such matters. I hope you will conduct yourself accordingly.”

“Father, I wish you wouldn’t tease me about what I consider—any one would consider—a serious thing!”

“Just to what do you refer?” said Menelaus.

“To marriage, of course!”

“That is serious,” said her father, “but I hadn’t got to that yet. I was finding out whether you had the love of life, because if you have it, you may marry any time, even if it’s the wrong man, but if you haven’t, you must postpone the wedding, even if it’s the right one.”

“I wish you’d tell me what you are talking about,” said Hermione.

“All in good season,” said Menelaus. “I must first ask you another question or two. Is there any one you would like to elope with?”