“Dear Father, dear Father,” she said.
Nikander at once plunged into the further details of the colony. Theria’s enthusiasm was contagious. She listened to him, absorbed. Suddenly she stopped him.
“Of course Eëtíon knows of my leadership? He approves?”
“I did not see him, Daughter. I came hot-foot to you.”
“But Eëtíon should have known it first of all.” Her eyes looked startled, then deep trouble entered into them. “Suppose he does not wish to go?”
“But he will go, Daughter. I am sure he will.”
“I am not sure, not sure,” was her troubled answer. “Eëtíon has been so beaten about the world. He is so pathetically glad to be here at home in Hellas.”
“I’ll make him go,” laughed Nikander.
“Oh, but that is not what I want. No, Eëtíon, too, must be happy. If he were saddened, all the joy would go out of the work; I would lose my luck.”