"But who gave it you?" asked Pandora, "and where did it come from?"
"That is a secret too," answered Epimetheus.
"How tiresome!" exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. "I wish the great ugly box were out of the way;" and she looked very cross.
"Come along, and let us play games," said Epimetheus; "do not let us think any more about it;" and they ran out to play with the other children, and for a while Pandora forgot all about the box.
But when she came back to the cottage, there it was in front of her, and instead of paying no heed to it, she began to say to herself: "Whatever can be inside it? I wish I just knew who brought it! Dear Epimetheus, do tell me; I know I cannot be happy till you tell me all about it."
Then Epimetheus grew a little angry. "How can I tell you, Pandora?" he said, "I do not know any more than you do."
"Well, you could open it," said Pandora, "and we could see for ourselves!"
But Epimetheus looked so shocked at the very idea of opening a box that had been given to him in trust, that Pandora saw she had better not suggest such a thing again.
"At least you can tell me how it came here," she said.
"It was left at the door," answered Epimetheus, "just before you came, by a queer person dressed in a very strange cloak; he had a cap that seemed to be partly made of feathers; it looked exactly as if he had wings."