Each faced a cardinal point and quickly emptied his cup. A crash of music mingled with the “Om-ahs!” and every eye turned expectantly toward Kerœcia. At this anniversary each year since Kerœcia had been among them, a betrothal cup had been set in the center of her table. It was the one day in the year when she was privileged to choose a husband. The marriageable men loyally showed themselves, but stood with averted faces lest their intent gaze should embarrass and disconcert her. Every one withdrew from the table and left her free to act. Would she merely bow her head and follow her maidens, as she had done before, or would she return the confidence of her people in full? She was still standing as they left her, amid a feeling, impressive, and intense silence. Quickly she called: “Alcyesta, Suravia, Mineola, intercede for me!” Then she hastily signed to the musicians, and, soft as a breath of Æolian harps, came the answering notes. The three priestesses intoned in low, sweet voices, stretching out their arms in supplication to the north, west and south. Their bodies swayed forth and back as they brought their open hands even with their foreheads, palms downward, and then opened their arms as wide as possible again, repeating the process continually. Many of the women were moved to tears as they heard the familiar strains, while some of them mechanically joined in the chant. Since freedom and unconsciousness are the only expressions of modesty, why, in the name of all that is simple, sincere, and natural, is it considered wrong for a woman to give expression to affection. As well might it be held a shame to live and breathe because uninvited to be born. It may be that it is for the harmony, delicacy, joy, mystery and beauty of love that the differences of sex should be recognized in the right of initiative. Or the notion may lie in the atavism of human nature which stands trembling between the glory of its destiny and the meanness of its achievement. Kerœcia had a naïve, tender, shrinking, sensitive nature, but one in which love clothed itself with many charms and graces. There was no sense of original sin hanging over her head to suppress, intimidate and pervert her love nature. She knew no reason why she should not select a mate. With the confidence of this assurance, she picked up the betrothal cup. The act combined the strength of the sea, the firmness of the mountains, the freedom of the winds, with all the shy grace of the violet hidden by tall grasses and veiled with dew. The cup, a pale violet stone which had been blocked out and ground down, was supported by a slender golden stem, twisted and set with pearls and emeralds. Something of the import of Kerœcia’s action dawned upon Yermah as he stood transfixed, pale and agitated, while his very life seemed to hang upon her every movement.