"Yes, that will be just right."

True, directly after, he looked as doubtful as if an invisible
myrtle-staff had been swung over his back, and asked:

"But if she notices it?"

"I know how we'll manage it," replied the old man, and, putting
Semestre's pig in Mopsus's arms, took the ribbons from its ears and
curly tail.

Meantime, the little animal grunted as piteously as if it noticed that
its finery was being stolen and its beauty impaired.

And when Jason, with Mopsus's assistance, put the same ribbons on his
own lank pig, it looked neither better nor prouder than before, for it
was no lucky animal and did not appreciate beautiful gifts.

CHAPTER V.

THE WALK TO THE SEA.

While the priest of Aphrodite received Jason's gift, praised the pig's
beauty, and promised to slay it immediately, but said he would only
accept the lean animal Mopsus offered in Semestre's name for the sake of
its ornaments and the giver, Xanthe came out of her father's house. She
wore her handsomest garments, and had carefully arranged her beautiful
fair hair reflecting as she did so on many different things, for maidens
are fond of thinking when seated at the loom or spinning-wheel, or
quietly occupied in adorning their tresses.

Semestre followed close behind, and gave her a small knife, saying:

"It is seemly to decorate the door of a welcome guest with flowers. The
bushes are full of roses now, so go and cut as many as will be needed
for a handsome garland, but gather only red or yellow flowers, no white
ones, for they bring no good fortune. You will find the largest below
near the bench by the sea."

"I know."

"Wait and hear me out."

"Well?"

"The weather is delightful, there was a light breeze from the north
during the night, so it may happen that the ship from Messina will
arrive before noon."

"Then let me go down."

"Go and watch for the sails. If you see ours, hurry back and tell
Chloris to call me, for I must go to the temple of Cypris."

"You?" asked Xanthe, laughing.

"I, and you are the last person who should sneer at the errand; nay, you
can accompany me."

"No! I will cut the roses."

These words were uttered in a tone the house-keeper knew well. Whenever
Xanthe used it, she insisted upon having her own way, and did what she
pleased, while Semestre, who usually never admitted that her hearing was
no longer so keen as in former clays, in such cases willingly pleaded
her deafness, in order to a