"My lord," cried Psyche, "thy cruelty would kill my love for thee, were it not immortal. But, in very truth, all my joy would be slain did I know that my sisters were killed when I could have saved them. Oh, dearest husband, by the love that makes us one, I beseech thee, send Zephyr once more to bear my sisters hither." And she sobbed so pitifully and prayed so earnestly that once again he had not the heart to refuse. So about noontide the next day Psyche heard loud knocking and cries at the door, and she hastened to open it herself to her sisters. Again she kissed them, and bade them welcome, and they deceived her with flattery and honeyed words, and when she was off her guard one said, "Come, tell us, Psyche, thy husband's name. Among the immortal gods, where doth he take his place, and why is he not here to greet us?" "My husband," she replied, "is a rich merchant. Many a long year hath it taken to build up all the fortune you behold, for already the hair about his temples is touched with snow. And this day hath he gone a long journey to a distant town in search of rich merchandise, and he returneth not till the setting of the sun." Then quickly she called on Zephyr to bear them away before they could ply her with questions. When her husband came that night he was more troubled than before, and begged her to see them no more, but let them be dashed to death on the rocks if they troubled her again. Her pure heart, however, would believe no evil of them; and in this one thing she disobeyed her lord. V Meanwhile, the second visit of the sisters to Psyche in her beautiful home had but served to add fuel to the fire of their envy. When they remembered her confusion and the different tales she had told them about her unknown lord, jealousy whispered in their ears that all her happiness depended on the keeping of her secret, and that secret they straightway determined to know. "'Tis a strange lord, methinks," said one, "who in the waxing and waning of a single moon doth change from a beardless boy to a grave and reverend merchant whose hair is touched with snow." "True, sister. And therein lieth the secret of her happiness. Her lying tale but proves that she hath never seen her lord. And verily, he who would hide his face from the queen of his heart must be some child of the Immortals, whose love for an earth-born maid must be hid from gods and men." "Yea, and they who are loved of the Immortals are themselves immortal, too, and their seed after them. Truly, sister, that Psyche should be a goddess is more than I can bear." "I feel with thee! It is not meet that the youngest should have all. Let us invent some lying tale which shall make her look upon her lord, and break the spell which binds him to her." "What sayest thou to the words of the oracle that doomed her to wed a monster? Let us go to her and say that now we know this to be true, and beg her to flee from a fate so vile."