"We were talking of only one woman," he said, with an impulse of frankness. "She is Artemisia."
"Artemisia!" Xanthe exclaimed. "Don't try to deceive me. Why should you wish Artemisia to be carried off? Is not Clearchus to make her his wife?"
"It is for that very reason," Ariston replied. "I do not wish him to do so."
"Why not?" Xanthe demanded in a tone of suspicion.
"Sit down and let us talk rationally," Ariston said. "Suppose they marry and have children. His property would be lost to us forever."
"That is true," Xanthe assented. "I had not thought of that, and we need it so much more than he. If he should die, would it belong to us?"
"It would," her husband answered, "and now you know why I wish to prevent the marriage."
He rose, and she aided him to adjust the folds of his himation.
"I am going to the Assembly," he said. "If we have war with Macedon, the price of corn will advance. Look to the house and let none enter while I am away."
It was not until after he had gone that Xanthe began to wonder how she and Ariston were to profit by preventing the marriage, since their nephew would still be alive and in the possession of his property. It could not be that Ariston intended to have him slain. She shuddered at the thought, for she was fond of Clearchus, and he had always been kind to her. Besides, such a crime could not be committed without almost certain detection. Ariston must have formed some other scheme for bringing about his object. She reproached herself for not having questioned him on this point while he was in a frame of mind to answer. The opportunity might not occur again and she could only guess at what was to come. The half-confidence that he had given her left her more watchful and suspicious than ever.