CHAPTER XLIII
THE BIRD IN THE CAGE
Nikander came hurrying into the house.
“Where is Theria?” he demanded.
Time was when Nikander coming in had invariably asked, “Where is Dryas?” Now it was always, “Where is Theria?” looking about restlessly as though home were not home until Theria appeared.
“Theria? She has gone to bed,” answered her mother.
“To bed! But the sun has not yet set,” said Nikander.
“Yes, but that’s where she is all the same. She said there was nothing more to do in the house so she had better sleep. Of course there is more to do,” complained Melantho. “You’d think she’d take more interest in her bridal spinning. She says there are already more linens and woollens than she can use in twenty years if she had twenty children.”
“Well, aren’t there?” laughed Nikander.
“I should think she would like some more just to put away. But she is so listless.”
Nikander smiled happily.