g irritated
instead of winning her.

Unfortunately, his soothing speeches fell on hard ground, for Semestre
scarcely vouchsafed a reply, and at last distinctly intimated that he
interrupted her.

"Attention," she said, "is the mother of every true success. It is even
more needful in cooking than in weaving; and if Leonax, for whom my
hands are busy, resembles his father, he knows how to distinguish bad
from good."

"Alciphron," replied Jason, "liked the figs on our arbor by the house
better than yours."

"And while he was enjoying them," cried the old woman, "you beat him
with a hazel rod. I can hear him cry now, poor little dear."

"Too many figs are bad for the stomach," replied the old man, very
slowly and distinctly, but not too loud, that he might not remind her
of her deafness. Then seeing Semestre smile, he drew nearer, and with
winning cheerfulness continued: "Be sensible, and don't try to part the
children, who belong to each other. Xanthe, too, is fond of figs, and,
if Leonax shares his father's taste, how will the sweet fruit of your
favorite trees fare, if Hymen unites them in marriage? Phaon doesn't
care for sweet things. But seriously: though his father may seek twenty
brides for him, he himself wants no one but Xanthe. And can you deny
that he is a handsome, powerful fellow?"

"So is the other," cried Semestre, wholly unmoved by these words. "Have
you seen your favorite this morning? No! Do you know where he slept last
night and the night before?"

"On his couch, I suppose."

"In your house?"

"I don't run after the youth, now he is grown up."

"Neither shall we! You are giving yourself useless trouble, Jason, and
I earnestly beg you not to disturb me any longer now, for a dark spot is
already appearing on the roast. Quick, Chloris--lift the spit from the
fire!"

"I should like to bid Lysander good-morning."

"He is tired, and wants to see no one. The servants have vexed him."

"Then I'll stay awhile in the garden."

"To try your luck with Xanthe? I tell you, it's trouble wasted, for
she's dressing her hair to receive our guest from Messina; and, if she
were standing where those cabbage-leaves be, she wouldn't contradict me
if I were to repeat what you heard from my lips this morning at sunrise.
Our girl will never become Phaon's wife until I myself offer a sacrifice
to Aphrodite, that she may fill Xanthe's heart with love for him."

Jason shrugged his shoulders, and was preparing to t