They had scarcely finished when Mena knocked at the door and ushered in two women of Cyprus, with gleaming black eyes and slender, agile forms. "My master, the noble Phradates, sends you these," he said, bowing low before Thais.
"Phradates hath our thanks," she replied gravely. "Tell him that we hope to express our gratitude to him in person."
Mena withdrew, and Thais immediately commanded the women to dress her and Artemisia. To this task she gave her whole attention, directing every step with the minutest care, to the least fold of the saffron chiton. She chose for her adornment a topaz necklace that seemed to sparkle with inward fire. Artemisia she robed simply in white, with a white rose in her soft, brown hair.
There was an unwonted stir in the house. Slaves came and went with messages. The sound of men's voices rose from below. Thais was restless and uneasy. She paced backward and forward, stopping now and then before the polished mirror to examine once more the lustrous coils of her hair, or the arrangement of her silken chiton. She seemed expectant, and at every footfall turned her face toward the door; but the morning wore on, and Phradates did not come. Finally she sent one of the Cyprian women down, on pretence of fetching water, to learn what was going on. The woman returned with the news that the Tyrian was there, but of Chares and Clearchus she could learn nothing.
Thais hesitated for a moment. "Go down again," she said at last, "and tell Phradates that we are ready to receive him."
The woman took the message, but she came back almost immediately, saying that Phradates had left the house.
Thais stamped her foot. "Then we must wait," she said regretfully. "O that I were a man this day!"