They found the glorious goddess still
sitting by the wayside, unmoved. Then they led her to their father's
house; and she, veiled from head to foot, in her deep grief, followed
them on the way, and her blue robe gathered itself as she walked, in
many folds about her feet. They came to the house, and passed
through the sunny porch, where their mother, Metaneira, was [87]
sitting against one of the pillars of the roof, having a young child
in her bosom. They ran up to her; but Demeter crossed the threshold,
and, as she passed through, her head rose and touched the roof, and
her presence filled the doorway with a divine brightness.
"Still they did not wholly recognise her. After a time she was made
to smile. She refused to drink wine, but tasted of a cup mingled of
water and barley, flavoured with mint. It happened that Metaneira
had lately borne a child. It had come beyond hope, long after its
elder brethren, and was the object of a peculiar tenderness and of
many prayers with all. Demeter consented to remain, and become the
nurse of this child. She took the child in her immortal hands, and
placed it in her fragrant bosom; and the heart of the mother
rejoiced.
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