“Why was not I told?”
“It was for the reason that the prince wished thou shouldst believe him but Sensel until we reached here.”
“But Sensel”—Æole checking herself, turned to the prince. “Why was this, Prince Pelasgus?”
“I knew that thou didst look upon Sensel with good will; but I knew not how thou wouldst look upon the prince.”
A great load seemed lifted. She said naively, charmingly, “Thou wert right to think I should like the old beyond the new. There have been many princes, but never another Sensel. Prince Pelasgus, ever shall I joy to think of thee as Sensel. No higher thought could I have for thee.”
Over Sensel’s—Prince Pelasgus’ face passed a beautiful glow, and his eyes shone with a loving light that all might see. Pyrrha, comprehending, glanced at Deucalion, to find him watching the two in delight. As to the friends of their exile, they were receptive also.
For one, the keen-eyed Pelop whispered to his wife:
“I see it. Those two are fond.”
She was as interested. “They are a noble pair. And most fair to look upon. May it be so. Well I like it that his eyes are so dark, and hers so blue. As thine and mine.”
Pelop laughed to himself. Well he knew his Peloppa’s taste for romance. Then he looked about with a view to further discovery.