"You ought to think yourself a fortunate girl, Thyra," Adherbal
said, smiling; "for your father might have taken it into his head
to have done as Hamilcar Barca did, and married his daughters to
Massilian and Numidian princes, to become queens of bands of nomad
savages."

"Well, they were queens, that was something, even if only of nomads."

"I don't think that it would have suited you, Thyra -- a seat on
horseback for a throne, and a rough tent for a palace, would not
be in your way at all. I think a snug villa on the slopes of the
bay of Carthagena, will suit you better, not to mention the fact
that I shall make an infinitely more pleasant and agreeable master
than a Numidian chief would do."

"You are intolerable, Adherbal, with your conceit and your mastership.
However, I suppose when the time comes I shall have to obey my
father. What a pity it is we girls cannot choose our husbands for
ourselves! Perhaps the time may come when we shall do so."

"Well, in your case, Thyra," Adherbal said, "it would make no
difference, because you know you would have chosen me anyhow; but
most girls would make a nice business of it. How are they to know
what men really are? They might be gamesters, drunkards, brutal
and cruel by nature, idle and spendthrift. What can maidens know
of a man's disposition? Of course they only see him at his best.
Wise parents can make careful inquiries, and have means of knowing
what a man's disposition and habits really are."

"You don't think, Adherbal," Thyra said earnestly, "that girls are