The old man did not answer for a moment or two. He looked his visitor
through and through with his wise gray eyes--an investigation which
might have disconcerted some people, but Halcyone was unabashed.

"I know what you are doing," she said. "You are seeing the other side of
my head--and I wish I could see the other side of yours, I can the
Aunts' La Sarthe and Priscilla's, in a minute, but yours is different."

"I am glad of that--you might be disappointed, though, if you did see
what was there."

"I always want to see," she said simply--"see everything; and sometimes
I find the other side not a bit what this is--even in the birds and
trees and the beetles. But you must have a huge big one."

The old man laughed.

"You and I are going to be good acquaintances," he said. "Tell me some
more of Perseus. What more do you know of him?"

"I have only read 'The Heroes,'" Halcyone admitted, "but I know it by
heart--and I know it is all true though my governess says it is
fairy-tales and not for girls. I want to learn Greek, but they can't
teach me."

"That is too bad."

"When things are put vaguely I always want to know, them--I want to know
why Medusa turned into a gorgon? What was her sin?"