The strong man was sobbing. “Ah, Æole, Æole, to hold thee once again!”
“Father, father, after these years! But I knew thou wouldst come, if of earth!”
The rapture of her tone was so intense that he began to fear for her. Thus, he bore her to a couch, and sat beside her, supporting her; and then Electra came to chafe her hands, and bathe her brow. Her trembling was excessive; and she kept repeating, “Father—father. Thanks—thanks!” Though soon she calmed to question, “Father, tell me of mother. Is she well?” And extreme was the pathos of her tone.
“Æole, thy mother waiteth for thee.”
“What, then, is the past? One look from her will heal all. Mother—mother!” So intense were tone and look that Sensel turned away. And Electra sobbed.
Throughout this scene, Queen Atlana had gazed stonily. Though, at Æole’s cry for her mother, she thrilled, and her eyes moistened. But she conquered her feeling, and now asked in irony: “Sir Deucalion, doth this—thy guile—come of the gods?”
He arose, and bowed. “Most gracious Queen, this is not guile.”
“How callest thou it?”
“I call it working to the best end a matter between Pelasgia and Atlantis.”
“That is the look from thine eyes. I can see it in but one light.”