“The gods grant thee victory, my sons,” said the father gravely. “I pray to them for their favour and protection.”
Before long the three were in animated talk about the games, and the children listened eagerly to discussions as to which of the candidates from Athens had the best chances of victory.
“All goes well with thy mare, I trust?” asked Agis, presently, turning to his brother.
“With Aura all is well,” returned Phidolas cheerfully. “Let us now go to her stable and see that she is fed.”
The boys rose, and at the moment two slaves entered, who, taking the dishes from the table, removed the board and the trestles, thus in less than two minutes leaving the room practically empty.
“Our dinners take much longer to clear,” murmured Rachel. She looked at Agis. “Haven’t you any mother? Or any sisters?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the boy. “My mother lives, and I have two sisters. But they are not with us, of course.”
“Why not?” demanded Diana.
Agis stared. “Always I forget you are strangers!” he declared, laughing. “They are in the women’s part of the house, where they live. They do not pass their time with us. In our country such is not the custom. Look yonder!” He took them out into the courtyard and pointed to where, through a passage, they saw another open space surrounded by a colonnade.
“That is the women’s quarter,” he explained, carelessly. “There my mother and sisters live and do their work.”