“You consent then to my calling to-morrow on Oïdas with an official communication and recognition?”
“It is never too soon to marry your child well.”
“Perhaps you are right. I would have chosen a younger man. However, do not precipitate matters. I must know more of this Oïdas. He is a politician, and you know my feelings towards that class of men. It is just possible he may be less disreputable and illiterate than the general run. He cannot be an honourable man upon your own admission, for he stooped to buy the influence of that reptile, Stavros.”
“True, but all politicians do so. The greater they are, the more unscrupulous. It is part of their _métier_, as callousness to pain is of the surgeon’s. You have studied history and I have not; then this fact you must have learnt.”
“Sometimes the loose political mind may prove itself more keenly apprehensive of correct deductions than that of the studiously trained thinker,” Pericles rejoined, with a subtle smile. “Doubtless it is I who am in error.”
“This is idle wandering. I’ll grant you anything in argument, only grant me in turn the consideration of Oïdas’ proposals and his formal reception.”
Pericles thought awhile, then rose and stretched his arms.
“There will be nothing incorrect in receiving him. I cannot settle straight off to marry Inarime to him, but I agree with you that his proposals are worth considering. He is not the man I should have selected, and that is why I hesitate to compromise our honour. But he can come. I will not coerce my child. It is for her to say whether he will stay.”
This concession was more than Constantine had dared to hope for, and his spirits rose to the point of exuberance next morning when an invitation came from Madame Jarovisky’s for Inarime to attend an afternoon party for young people given in honour of her daughter’s birthday.
There were about twenty young ladies and mature little girls, with a sprinkling of boys and youths from the military and naval schools, at Madame Jarovisky’s when Inarime entered the rooms, escorted by her father. The chaperons retired to the salon downstairs, to refresh themselves with tea and return to their homes, or stay and watch the youngsters disport and play. By and by Miltiades came, that prince of masters of ceremonies, especially invited to conduct the cotillon, and show the small rabble how to dance the mazurka. Could a hero object to shine and lead, even in minute and giggling society? Heavens above us! What would be the result of an entertainment in Athens without Miltiades? Confusion, scare, and disgrace,--worse, the privation of its most picturesque adornment, and its crown of military glory.