"But I cannot give my leave," rejoined Aspasia, playfully, still keeping
her hold upon the veil: "I must see this tyrannical custom done away in
the free commonwealth of Athens. All the matrons who visit my house
agree with me in this point; all are willing to renounce the absurd
fashion."

"But in a maiden it would be less seemly," answered Philothea.

Thus resisted, Aspasia appealed to Anaxagoras to exert his authority;
adding, in an audible whisper, "Phidias has told me that she is as
lovely as the immortals."

With a quiet smile, the aged philosopher replied, "My child must be
guided by her own heart. The gods have there placed an oracle, which
never misleads or perplexes those who listen to it."

Aspasia continued, "From what I had heard of you, Philothea, I expected
to find you above the narrow prejudices of Grecian women. In _you_ I was
sure of a mind strong enough to break the fetters of habit. Tell me, my
bashful maiden, why is beauty given us, unless it be like sunlight to
bless and gladden the world?"

"Lady," replied the gentle recluse, "beauty is given to remind us that
the soul should be kept as fair and perfect in its proportions, as the
temple in which it dwells."

"You are above ordinary women," said Aspasia; "for you hear me allude to
your beauty without affecting to contradict me, and apparently without
pleasure."