High ran the enthusiasm. Then succeeded the usual calm. So it was that the plighted ones fell to regarding each other in surprise. It seemed as though months had passed, so much at home did they feel in this new condition. Upon parting for the night, Electra whispered:
“Of a truth, Hellen, it seemeth an age since we left the boat.”
The world was now of a rare brightness to these lovers, and this increased in quality, if possible, with the days. Sensel, beholding, rejoiced; and yet pined with envy. Why could not he become thus positive as regarded Æole? It was sinful further to fritter away the precious time! He, like Hellen, must make opportunity. But how? The boat was an old story. What could he devise instead?
Thus he fell to planning, as his eyes followed wistfully the happy pair that were ever moving about together. He and Æole might be as they. Yet were the precious hours wasting.
Not that Sensel was always following with his eyes this couple. No, it was only at such times as Æole was not in sight; otherwise his absorption was in her, and was ecstatic. For with the happiness that had come about her, she had grown even lovelier; and further, seemed to tread the air. Besides, several times had Sensel surprised her regarding intently himself when he had turned back to look upon her—and to her evident discomfiture. For it must be admitted that, at such times, she was deep in thought to some such effect:
“What a noble beauty covereth the good in Sensel! What an air, what a movement is his! He walketh not—he soareth! Never was there such grace, such a tread in man before. It is no wonder he could so well take his strange part. And, can I ever cease to think upon him as Sensel? Hard is it ever to bring to mind that he is Prince Pelasgus, harder to call him that. Ever will he be to me Sensel—dear Sensel. And to think that his was the voice!”
But Sensel would have been no true, ardent lover had he not managed a way to press his suit. His first move was to confess his love to Deucalion, and his desire to speak with Æole. Whereupon, Deucalion replied to the effect that he knew this was coming, and was in sympathy, but that he could not give consent without that of King Pelasgus as he might have other views. However, his scruples were removed when the prince assured him it had ever been the advice of his father and mother that he should wed for love, and seek love. He was to scorn all thought of worldly advantage. Thus, there could be no bar to consent. His parents would think with him, especially as his love was the daughter of the man most revered in Pelasgia. At the end, he entreated:
“Dear Deucalion, in this manner I ask thy help. On the morrow, in the morning, let there be no company. Then give Hellen the word. And afterward, go with Pyrrha to visit Queen Atlana. Thus will open the way.”
“Prince Pelasgus, it shall be as thou sayest.”
“Thou dost not speak with cheer, Deucalion.”