“A pretty brother I have got,” rejoined the lady, in high sharp tones:  “to leave me in want!  Never once to inquire after me!”

“Nay, sister, or sister-in-law,” responded Prometheus, “if it comes to that, where were you while I was on Caucasus?  The Oceanides ministered to me, Hermes came now and then, even Hercules left a card; but I never saw Pandora.”

“How could I compromise Epimetheus, Prometheus?” demanded Pandora.  “Besides, my attendant Hope was always telling me that all would come right, without any meddling of mine.”

“Let her tell you so now,” retorted Prometheus.

“Tell me now!  Do you pretend not to know that the hussey forsook Olympus ten years ago, and has turned Christian?”

“I am sure I am very sorry to hear it.  Somehow, she never forsook me.  I can’t imagine how you Gods get on without her.”

“Get on!  We are getting off.  Except Eros and Plutus, who seem as usual, and the old Fates, who go on spinning as if nothing had happened, none of us expects to last for another ten years.  The sacrifices have dwindled down to nothing.  Zeus has put down his eagle.  Hera has eaten her peacocks.  Apollo’s lyre is never heard—­pawned, no doubt.  Bacchus drinks water, and Venus—­well, you can imagine how she gets on without him and Ceres.  And here you are, sleek and comfortable, and never troubling yourself about your family.  But you had better, or I swear I will tell Zeus; and we shall see whether these Christians will keep you with your ante-chamber full of starving gods.  Take a day to think of what I have been saying!”

And away she flounced, not noticing Elenko.  Long and earnestly did the pair discuss the perils that menaced them, and at the end of their deliberations Elenko sought the Bishop, and briefly imparted the Princess Miriam’s ultimatum.

“It is painful to a spiritual man,” replied the prelate, “to be accessory to a murder.  It is also repugnant to his feelings to deny a beloved niece anything on which she has set her heart.  To avoid such grievous dilemma, I judge it well that ye both ascend to heaven without further ceremony.”

That night the ascent of Prometheus and Elenko was witnessed by divers credible persons.  The new church was consecrated shortly afterwards.  It was amply stored with relics from the wardrobe of Prometheus and what remained of the eagle.  The damsels of the capital regained their admirers, and those who had become enamoured of Prometheus mostly transferred their affections to the Bishop.  Everybody was satisfied except the Princess Miriam, who never ceased to deplore her indulgence in giving Elenko the chance of first speech with her uncle.

“If I had been five minutes beforehand with the minx!” she said.

IV