'

Aphrodite vanished, but Cupid remained where he was, gazing on the
sleeping maiden and confessing in his heart that those who paid her the
honours due to his mother were not much to blame.

'Never will I do you such wrong,' he murmured, 'as to mate you with some
base wretch, who has no thought beyond the wine-cup. From me and my
darts you are safe. But am I safe from yours?' Then, fearing to stay any
longer, lest his mother should wax wroth with him, he also took his way
to the palace of Oceanos.

[Illustration: APHRODITE BRINGS CUPID TO PSYCHE]

If Aphrodite had not been a goddess, and had known a little more about
the hearts of men, she might not have envied Psyche so bitterly; for,
though all men bowed down before her and worshipped her beauty, each
felt that she was too far above him to woo for his bride. So that, while
her sisters had homes and children of their own, Psyche remained unasked
and unsought in her father's palace.

At length the king grew frightened as months and years slipped by, and
Psyche was past the age when Greek maidens left the hearth where they
had grown into girlhood. He summoned some wise men to give him counsel,
but they shook their heads, and bade him consult the oracle of his
fathers. It was a three days' journey to his shrine, and then no man
knew when the oracle would speak, so the king took with him sheep and
oxen, and skins of wine for himself and his followers.

Ten days later he returned to the city with bowed head and white face.
The queen, with anxious heart, had been watching his arrival from the
roof of the palace, and awaited him at the door of the women's
apartments.

'What has happened?' she said, as she greeted him; but he drew her on
one side, where none might hear them.

'The oracle has spoken,' answered he, 'and decrees that Psyche shall be
left upon a barren rock till a hideous monster shall come and devour
her. And it is for this that men have paid her honours which were the
portion only of the gods! Far better had she been born with the hair of
Medusa and the hump of Hephaestos.'

At these dreadful tidings the queen and her maidens broke into weeping,
and when the news spread through the city no sounds but those of wailing
were heard. Only the voice of Psyche was silent among them. She moved
about as one that was sleeping, and indeed she felt as if the boat, with
its grim ferryman, had already borne her across the Styx. So the days
passed on, and one even