CHAPTER II
The Gauntlet
EDGEMERE was a beautiful estate overlooking Great South Bay, just east of Babylon. Across the waters of the bay, the low dunes of Fire Island were visible, with the lighthouse pointing upward its white finger of warning. To east and west low, wooded islets closed in the horizon, while to the north, the tall trees of a broad stretch of woodland looked down upon the house. A pretty boathouse and pier adorned the beach and there was every other device of bowling-alley, gymnasium, tennis-court, and what not that could add to the amusement of summer sojourners. There were many pretty walks among the trees, many fragrant nooks where nature’s sway had not been disputed; but perhaps the most attractive corner of the place was the walk beyond the bowling-alley, beneath a graceful pergola, covered with vines in summer, leading to a shady bower commanding a wide view of the bay, from which a terraced walk descended to the water.
It was essentially a summer play-house, and yet John Drysdale, looking through the blurred glass of the carriage that had brought him from the station through the sudden April shower, saw in the light streaming redly from the windows a warmth of welcome that summer could not show. A pile of logs was blazing
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