“When I reflect,” said Hermione, “that all this has been arranged for my happiness, I’m greatly puzzled. How do you two imagine I’m to profit in any way from this visit of Pyrrhus, when I know what you are thinking of him and of each other? If this is the preparation for making the right choice in marriage, I should say there must be less wear and tear in making the wrong choice and getting out of it later.”

“You are quite right, Hermione,” said Helen. “It is useless for Pyrrhus to come now. I’m sorry I made the suggestion in the first place. I meant well, but your father misinterprets my motives, and his mental attitude now is too deplorable for us to promise any guest a comfortable visit. I mean it, Menelaus; I give my consent to Orestes; I will raise no further objections, neither in your presence nor behind your back. And as a final favour I ask you to recall the invitation—send word that Agamemnon is returned, and that business with him makes it necessary to postpone the pleasure we had suggested for ourselves.”

“You don’t get off so easily!” said Menelaus. “I see what you’re after, clear enough; rather than have me tell the whole story, and let him report to the curious world what our relations are, you want to head him off before he gets here. I’ll do nothing of the kind. Pyrrhus will come, if I can possibly persuade him to. If you value the liberty which is now yours, you will make no further objection to Orestes. And at the first opportunity Hermione will marry her cousin.”

“Oh, father,” said Hermione, “I wish you’d do as mother says—don’t have Pyrrhus! Nobody wants him now—I’m sure you do mother an injustice—she spoke in the interest of our family peace. For herself, I really believe, she wouldn’t mind your locking her up, and all that—it would give her the kind of excitement she yearns for. But this time she’s thinking of me, of all of us, and her advice is good. I don’t want that man here!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s too late,” said Menelaus, “I was forced to invite him, though I wanted him no more than you. Now he’ll come.”

“Menelaus,” said Helen, “I doubt if you have the right to ask Pyrrhus here, in view of the heated arguments we’ve had, and the emotions that are running high in the family now. Some discourtesy might happen, and he take offence at it. He would think you were continuing your old feud with his father—people in general would think so—and your reputation would suffer.”

“I’ll take care of my reputation,” said Menelaus. “You’re a fine one to advise me how to protect my name! Where did you learn the art?”