"The Professor, of course. He is just like the picture in my 'Heroes,'" she answered, "and I often pretend we are in the cave on Pelion. I thought you would perhaps be like one of the others since you were his pupil, too, but I cannot find which. You are not Heracles—because you have none of those great muscles—or Æneas or Peleus. Are—are you Jason himself, perhaps—" and her voice sounded glad with discovery. "We do not know, he may not have had a Greek face."
John Derringham laughed. "Jason who led the Argonauts to find the Golden Fleece—it is a good omen. Would you help me to find the Golden Fleece if you could?"
"Yes, I would, if you were good and true—but the end of the story was sad because Jason was not."
"How must I be good and true then? I thought Jason was a straight enough sort of a fellow and that it was Medea who brought all the trouble—Medea, the woman."
Halcyone's grave eyes never left his face. She saw the whimsical twinkle in his but heeded it not.
"He should not have had anything to do with Medea—that is where he was wrong," she said, "but having given her his word, he should have kept it."
"Even though she was a witch?" Mr. Derringham asked.
"It was still his word—don't you see? Her being a witch did not alter his word. He did not give it because she was or was not a witch—but because he himself wanted to at the time, I suppose; therefore, it was binding."
"A man should always keep his word, even to a woman, then?" and John Derringham smiled finely.
"Why not to a woman as well as a man?" Halcyone asked surprised. "You do not see the point at all it seems. It is not to whom it is you give your word—it is to you it matters that you keep it, because to break it degrades yourself."