Vassar determined that every day of the two weeks at Babylon should be
red lettered in his life. He had never taken a vacation; nor had his
father. It was time to adopt this good custom of the country. It was
mid-July. The campaign would not really be under way until October.
There was nothing to worry about. Neither the suffragettes with their
organization nor Waldron with his money could break his hold on the
hearts of his people.
He gave himself up to the sheer joy of living for the first time in
life. Through the long glorious early days he drove with Virginia in her
little dogcart about the beautiful country roads of Long Island. He had
never dreamed the panoramas of ravishing landscape that stretched away
in endless beauty. He found gentle hills and valleys, babbling brooks
and shady woods and always seaward the solemn white sand dunes of the
beach and the changing mirror of the bay reflecting their shining forms.
On days when the wind was right the far-away roar of the surf could be
distinctly heard.
Each day alone with the charming and brilliant woman by his side had
led him deeper and deeper into the mazes of a fascination that had
become resistless. They talked with deep earnestness of the great things
of life and eternity. She made no effort to conceal her keen personal
interest in the man she was studying.
With deliberate purpose she had abandoned herself to the romantic
situation of being sought and courted by a handsome, fascinating man. He
wondered vaguely if she were experimenting with her own character, and
merely using him for the moment for the purpose of chemical reaction? He
shivered at the uncanny idea. It was disconcerting. She might be capable
of such a gruesome process. For the life of him he couldn’t make out as
yet whether such a woman was capable of real passion.
There was no longer any doubt about his own situation. He had faced the
fact squarely. He was in love--madly, passionately, hopelessly--the one
grand passion of mature manhood. Its violence frightened him. He was
afraid to put it to the test with a declaration. He must wait and be
sure of a response on her part. There was too much at stake to bungle
such an issue. If he could win her by surrender on the suffrage
question, he would give her two ballots if she wanted them. He knew her
character too well to believe that such ignoble surrender of principle
merely to please could succeed. She would accept his help in her cause
and despise him for a weakling in her heart.
As the time drew near that he must go he knew with increasing fear the
supreme hour of life had struck. He must put his fate to the test. He
took his seat in a rowboat facing her and drifted into the silver sea of
moon, fully determined. An hour passed and he had only spoken
commonplace nothings. With each effort his courage grew weaker.
If she were like other girls he would have dared it. “Faint heart ne’er
won fair lady,” he kept repeating as he tried in vain to screw his mind
up to the point of speech. It was no use. She was not the fair lady of
song and story. She had a disconcerting way of demanding the reason for
things.
He gave it up at last and spent an evening of supreme happiness drifting
and listening to the soft round flute-like notes of her voice. He would
speak tomorrow. They had two days more. Tomorrow they were to take a
long ride down the smooth road to Southampton in her little runabout.
She was an expert at the wheel of an automobile and they had explored
the whole south side of Long Island in the past five days.
He had grown to love the peace and charm of this wonderful
isle--homes--homes--homes--everywhere! laughing children played beside
the roadways. Smiling boys and girls made hill and valley ring with
joy.
He had promised Zonia and Marya to take the cottage across the turnpike
in front of the spacious lawn of the Holland homestead and let them
spend the summer there. His father had joined in their clamor and he had
consented. The cottage was furnished and a power launch went with it for
a reasonable rent. They were to move down next week. There would be but
two days’ break in the new life they had begun in this fairyland of sun
and sky, trees and flowers, laughing waters and shining seas.
Why should he press his suit? He would wait and see more of her. And
then the crisis came that hurled him headlong into a decision.