“I sincerely hope so,” replied the girl. “My greatest happiness can come only from successfully convincing others that there is a future existence for all who deserve it.”
“I saw my cousin, Cleodice and her daughter, Eumetis,” said Agne. “There was a young man seated between them, and I believe he must be the one to whom Eumetis is betrothed. He will find Eumetis a worthy mate, for a more unselfish girl never lived. She loved Polygnotus, but when she realized that her sister, Corinna loved him, she stepped aside and gave Polygnotus every opportunity to pay court to her sister. But see who is coming to pay court here, little Persephone! Behold Pluto is vanished, and in his stead we see Ephialtes. I was young once, Persephone, and if I mistake not, your greatest happiness lies with him, not in revealing a future life to others. Do not misunderstand me, my dear, your part as Persephone is a noble one and may be for a year or two yet, but then younger Persephones will come to the front, and you do not want to become a Demeter!” here Agne laughed bitterly. “I once stood as you now stand and hesitated between a lover and an ambition,—and now I am just Demeter, truly a noble calling, but not life as it should be. You are life, Persephone! You personify it! Then live it, and Ephialtes will gladly share it with you.”
Persephone was amazed at Agne’s frank outburst. She had always known her as a devout, conscientious woman whose interest in her part of Ceres in the mystery-play was the obsession of her life. It was now vividly impressed upon her that Agne had once been young as she was, that Agne had once loved and been loved, and now Agne’s advice was to make the most of that love which comes in life’s spring-time.
“But I always thought you wanted me to succeed you some day as Demeter!” the girl exclaimed wonderingly.
“Maybe some day you can, but live first. Demeter was a mother, and I believe a real mother will present the truths of our belief more vividly than can one who has never known the joys and pangs of motherhood.” With these words Agne left the maiden just as Ephialtes approached.
“Come with me to the Grotto of Pluto, Persephone,” said Ephialtes. “I wish to have a word with you alone.”
The Grotto of Pluto was a half furlong distant from the Great Hall which the two now left by way of the rock-terrace. The night breeze from across the Rharian plain was warm and laden with the odors of grain fields.
“The usual cool sea breeze has deserted us tonight,” remarked Persephone, “but I love equally well that which blows from the land. It seems to bear a message from others who live in our own fair land and to unite us by its common touch.”
“I love that wind,” said Ephialtes, “which blows across the water from strange, unknown lands, bringing with it a feeling of mystery. It is characteristic, I suppose, that the woman love her native land and the familiar haunts of her childhood, but the man longs to explore the unknown.”
“Yes I love Greece, Ephialtes, and who would not? It has the richest pale-blue air, the loveliest mountain forms and silvery estuaries, sinking far into the heart of the land!”