She felt her way to the door, then hurried along the balcony to her father’s room. He was in the heavy first sleep of night, and when she spoke to him he did not arouse, but only sighed wearily. Melantho sat up. “Are you ill? Is it robbers?” she asked. And learning it was neither she rated Theria in wrathful whispers for disturbing the head of the house.
So Theria perforce went back to her room, there to toss, to plan, to wonder, until nearly dawn when she fell, as with a sudden stumble, into slumber.
When she awoke again the full sun was shining brightly into the court. Inessa, the new wonderful colony, met her awaking mind. She had been walking in its streets of dream with Eëtíon.
But she knew that Nikander always rose with the dawn. Already he might be gone from the house to tell the priests to choose another leader. In mad haste she threw on her chiton and hurried down into the aula. Paian be praised! Nikander was still there, but all dressed and sandalled going toward the door.
“Father, Father!” she cried breathlessly. “Wait a moment. Oh, I must see you alone.”
“What has happened?” he asked.
“Inessa! Oh, Father, I am going to Inessa. I must go.”
“What,” he smiled at her vehemence. “Changeable woman! Do you expect me to veer about with all your moods?”