Second paragraph of third chapter:

All day he stood by the priest while the flames were fed on the altars, in the midst of the respectful army, and Menelaus stood beside him–the two kings without a rival, now that Achilles was gone. At dusk they let the offerings burn down and smoulder, the soldiers kindled supper-fires, and the priest said the omens so far were good.

This was the best-selling book in the USA in 1926, a hundred years ago, so I got hold of it and read it (as previously for the best-selling books of 1909, 1910, 1911, 1912, 1913, 1916, 1917, 1921, and 1925). It’s a bit of a gem – almost entirely told in dialogue, with very little description of the scenery, Helen has nonchalantly returned home with Menelaus after the war and is confronted with the emotional resentment of their daughter Hermione, who sees her mother’s scandalous behaviour as the root of all her problems, but incidentally is in love with he cousin Orestes, who starts killing people (notably his mother, Helen’s sister Clytemnestra) in the last part of the book.

Despite the grim storyline, it’s actually rather funny, with Helen bringing 1920s sensibilities to a dark mythic past. It’s anachronistic, but one can totally see her quipping to her relatives and associates over her cigarette-holder. And her message is one of empowerment: she is unashamed of her love affair with Paris; it didn’t work out, so she is back with Menelaus. She is then challenged to apply the same standards to Hermione, and to another young woman in her household who becomes pregnant, but in the end succeeds in doing so, and we cheer for her. Menelaus (and his doorkeeper Eteoneus who provides an alternative old-fashioned viewpoint) are left confused by her confidence. Rather an interesting find.

You can buy The Private Life of Helen of Troy here, but I got it from Project Gutenberg Australia.