Scarce had they accepted her words than she was speeding off to the place designated, hopeful of convincing Hellen of his injustice.
But, when almost there, paused because of a significant rustling. Though the pause was only for the instant. Bravely she resumed her way; and was at the thicket just as a tall form showed itself before vanishing!
Poor Electra, overcome, could only turn and look to Hellen, who had fast followed her. Pitiful was it to witness her trembling. Hellen, in his loving commiseration, put his arm about her, nay, both arms; and thus supported her.
“Come, dear Electra, come away. Thou wilt be sick.”
She burst into tears; and was emulated by the approaching Æole. As she sobbed, she said:
“I grieve not to believe him our friend.”
“It doth not make him the less our friend that he hath done this,” spoke Æole, with head held high. “How know we but he is the more our friend in thus doing. It is plain he was not there to hearken. It is too far from the place where we sat.” Sweet was her majesty.
“Why, then, didst thou weep?” asked the keen Hellen.
“I know not,” she faltered, her head lowering. “Unless it was because—everything was so sudden—and Electra was trembling and weeping.”
“Wert thou in fear, Electra?”