With a cry Eëtíon leaped up, knowing the beloved figure before her face was revealed. Melantho ran to her. Dryas reached out arms from his couch, calling, “Sister, Sister,” and the slaves came hurrying from everywhere. Nikander had to explain a hundred questions how she came to be really free. Dryas kept her hand affectionately. “Now home will be home,” he said. “It has never been the same since you went away.” “Dear Theria,” laughed Nikander, “even the fish have tasted wrong. I did not know you directed the cooking of the fish.” Then he turned to Dryas. “Dryas,” he questioned, “have they told you the news?” “What news?” Then all the joyfulness was to be gone through again as Nikander told of Dryas’s election to the priesthood and his crowning. Nikander, being by nature courageous, was never quite to realize the struggle Dryas had had to win such a crown. But fine deeds he did know, and felt new kinship with his son and all the old love and pride. As the two were talking together, Eëtíon softly drew Theria aside. How strong and heavenly the joy in his face as he kissed her. Theria had never known how godlike Eëtíon was until now, his eyes so shining upon her and so full of awe. What was this strange love which had come to her from the gods, a thing so unheard-of for a mere Greek girl? Their very silence together seemed holy, difficult to break. “Oh, do you think that Father will allow——” she began; and then, realizing what she was about to ask, she blushed and hushed her speech. “Allow us what, dear Theria?” He lifted her hands in both of his, hardly listening to her words. And before he could answer Melantho broke in upon them. “Great Heavens! Theria, what are you doing? What am _I_ doing to let you stay here? Come back to our aula at once.” Theria was too happy to be disobedient. She took her mother’s hand and went back with her to the women’s apartment where the door was quickly shut. CHAPTER XLI A SCULPTOR’S RESPECTABILITY Now that abnormal conditions were past, Nikander and his family returned to conventional ways. Theria must not meet nor see Eëtíon. Of course she must not. She must be shut in the women’s court whenever he came to the house. Nikander gave his formal consent to the marriage. He loved Eëtíon with all his heart. The good youth now would have been his choice for Theria even if Theria had had no wish in the matter. Yet as the days went by Nikander dreaded the marriage. Marriage with a metic was indeed a serious step. Nikander knew his daughter well. He knew that while she now made the sacrifice gladly that later when she saw her sons excluded from the priesthood, herself excluded from processional rites and perhaps taunted by women of her own class, Theria’s proud spirit would revolt. He even wondered if her love would outlast the strain. Love so burning bright in youth may be strangely quenched by hard conditions.