“You are uncivil,” said Helen, “and you’ve lost your temper. I see with regret that your judgment has deserted you. Permit me to suggest that a failure to get on well with Pyrrhus would raise the question among our friends, whether there mightn’t be something to say for previous guests of yours who didn’t get on well with you. Even in the case of Paris, there were those who asked what you did to induce such a tragedy. You should be able to point to at least one young man who came to you as a guest and left as a friend. Since we can’t be certain of such an end to this visit, I beg of you not to have Pyrrhus just now.”

“The only negligence I contributed in the case of Paris,” said Menelaus, “was that I trusted you out of my sight. I shan’t do it again. Whether Pyrrhus leaves as a friend, I don’t care a fig, but I guarantee he leaves this house alone. He won’t take Hermione with him, and he won’t take you. If you behave yourself, there’ll be no quarrel with him.”

“Have him come later, then,” said Helen. “If he comes in the next few days, or even weeks, he may arrive just when you ought to go to your brother. Suppose Agamemnon sends for you in great haste; will you answer that you’d like to go to his rescue, but you have a guest with whom you don’t dare trust your wife? If Agamemnon needs you, you’ll have to go—you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t. And I really shouldn’t care to be left with a guest here alone, knowing what your jealous suspicions would be for the rest of your life. It’s best to keep yourself free for the possible emergency.”

“My brother won’t need me,” said Menelaus. “The more I think of it, the surer I am. He can take care of Ægisthus, or if he wants help, Orestes is on the way.”

“On the way where?” said Hermione. “How do you know that?”

“Why, Eteoneus got in touch with him, and lent him some weapons of mine, and he went off quite a while ago, to aid his father, if necessary.”

“Oh, why didn’t you go yourself to Agamemnon?” cried Hermione. “You could have done more good than Orestes; you have experience, and he’s only—”

“If Orestes is fit for you to marry,” said Helen, “he’s not ‘only’—he’s a real man. He ought to go to his father—he’s now where he belongs.”