“Will you walk to the house with me, Damastor, or would you prefer that I go back alone? Very probably, Helen will see us, or Menelaus, or Hermione.”

V

V

“Now that I’ve sent for him,” said Menelaus, “I want to tell you one thing. I was wrong, and all that, but you had no right to thrash out the question as you did, in the presence of our child. There can’t be any discipline in a house where that sort of wrangling goes on in public. I detest family disputes above all things, and the worst possible is between parents with their own children listening.”

“I regret it too,” said Helen, “but it seemed better than to accept without protest the insult you laid on me before my daughter. You have a curious point of view, Menelaus. You brought me home, it seems, for the satisfaction of saying unspeakable things during the rest of my life, and you appear to think, for some reason, that I will put up with it. You seem to think it is good for your child and your household to hear such discourtesy from your lips. If I am not mistaken, you even think it is good for your own character. Every time you insult me, you give the impression of feeling morally elevated.”

“Helen, I haven’t said a word before my own household; no self-respecting man would do that. When Eteoneus wanted to open the subject, I refused to let him go on.”

“What subject did Eteoneus wish to open?” said Helen.

“That’s ancient history,” said Menelaus. “I was foolish to mention it.”

“You were,” said Helen, “but since you did, I hope you will tell me what Eteoneus wanted to say.”

“I’m sorry, Helen, but I can’t. It wasn’t important, anyway.”

“Menelaus, I suspect it was very important. In any case, it concerns me, and it is of a nature that you prefer to hide from me.”

“Well, I can’t tell you, that’s all there is to it. I don’t wish to, in the first place, and if I did repeat his remarks, you’d accuse me of insulting you, and before I got out of the mess, I’d have to invite some other guest to the house. We haven’t enough food in the storeroom to entertain any more; it was a disappointing harvest, you remember.”

“I won’t be put off this way,” said Helen. “If you decide not to tell me, I’ll ask Eteoneus what he said.”

“Since when have you gone to the gate-keeper for opinions on your own character, Helen? Really, you couldn’t do anything more undignified than that, to talk over our affairs with the servants!”

“I have no intention of discussing our affairs—I’ll merely ask him what mysterious thing it was he said about me.”

“He’ll tell you, of course!” said Menelaus.