‘But yesterday. The poor lady waited for two days and nights in tears. “Tell me, Amykla, has he come?” she said each minute. “No, Hippareté, not yet; he will come soon,” said I to cheer her. “Tell me, Amykla, is he hurt?” “Ah, no; we should soon hear if he was hurt. The great affairs of Athens keep him. He will soon be the greatest man in Athens. But yesterday he went to sup with Kleon. Kleon can do nothing without him. They say Kleon will have to go himself to conquer Brasidas, and he wishes Alkibiades to go with him. He dare not fight Brasidas without your Alkibiades. But Alkibiades will not go. He will stay here to lead the people, and protect his wife and child, whom he loves so much.” So I babbled to distract her thoughts, although I knew full well where you were gone. “Bring me,” she said, “the painting of him;” and I brought it, and then, poor lady, she fell a-kissing of it, till I got her to her bed and sat beside her as she sobbed and wept. A troubled sleep came over her at last, and in the morning a slave brought this from Kallias.’ He raised his head and read it. ‘“HIPPARETÉ, ‘“Alkibiades is with Timandra. I await you here. He is not worthy of you. Come to me and bring your child. I will protect you. ‘“KALLIAS.” ‘Ah, Alkibiades, could you have seen her then! She rose indignant from her bed, and taking the child, she bade me stay behind, nor dare to follow her. Then, turning to me, she gave me the child again. She seemed as in a daze, and went towards your rooms. When she came back she threw herself upon her knees beside her couch, and covering her head with both her hands, she laid it on the pillow, and there she wept until I thought her heart must break. ‘And then she rose, walked slowly to the door, and turning once more towards her couch, she raised both hands to heaven, and then I think she would have fallen had I not caught her in my arms. She let me hold her for a little while, but at the last she walked slowly away and through the courtyard, bidding her women to bring the child after her. So she left us, Alkibiades.’ Long time he stayed there in sadness; then he rose and told Amykla she might go. Then he gazed mournfully at all the small things that were hers. He opened the great carved chest. There lay her marriage robe, the long veil, the faded wreath she had worn the day he brought her to his home. There was a strange swelling in his throat, such as he had not felt for many years. He found a tablet with her writing on it about some small things that were wanted for Ephialtes, their child—about a gift for him, as a surprise. He remembered how happy she had been when she gave it to him. He almost wept as he went to lie down upon the couch in his own room. He dare not lie on hers; it seemed a profanation. In his own room everything had been put in order. He could see her care for him, for his things were just as he always liked them to be.