English
Old–fashionedNewYorkdinedatseven,andthehabitofafter–dinnercalls,thoughderidedinArcher'sset,stillgenerallyprevailed.
AstheyoungmanstrolledupFifthAvenuefromWaverleyPlace,thelongthoroughfarewasdesertedbutforagroupofcarriagesstandingbeforetheReggieChiverses'(wheretherewasadinnerfortheDuke),andtheoccasionalfigureofanelderlygentlemaninheavyovercoatandmufflerascendingabrownstonedoorstepanddisappearingintoagas–lithall.
Thus,asArchercrossedWashingtonSquare,heremarkedthatoldMr.duLacwascallingonhiscousinstheDagonets,andturningdownthecornerofWestTenthStreethesawMr.Skipworth,ofhisownfirm,obviouslyboundonavisittotheMissLannings.
AlittlefartherupFifthAvenue,Beaufortappearedonhisdoorstep,darklyprojectedagainstablazeoflight,descendedtohisprivatebrougham,androlledawaytoamysteriousandprobablyunmentionabledestination.
ItwasnotanOperanight,andnoonewasgivingaparty,sothatBeaufort'soutingwasundoubtedlyofaclandestinenature.
ArcherconnecteditinhismindwithalittlehousebeyondLexingtonAvenueinwhichberibbonedwindowcurtainsandflower–boxeshadrecentlyappeared,andbeforewhosenewlypainteddoorthecanary–colouredbroughamofMissFannyRingwasfrequentlyseentowait.
BeyondthesmallandslipperypyramidwhichcomposedMrs.Archer'sworldlaythealmostunmappedquarterinhabitedbyartists,musiciansand"peoplewhowrote."
Thesescatteredfragmentsofhumanityhadnevershownanydesiretobeamalgamatedwiththesocialstructure.
Inspiteofoddwaystheyweresaidtobe,forthemostpart,quiterespectable;buttheypreferredtokeeptothemselves.
MedoraManson,inherprosperousdays,hadinaugurateda"literarysalon";butithadsoondiedoutowingtothereluctanceoftheliterarytofrequentit.
Othershadmadethesameattempt,andtherewasahouseholdofBlenkers—anintenseandvolublemother,andthreeblowsydaughterswhoimitatedher—whereonemetEdwinBoothandPattiandWilliamWinter,andthenewShakespearianactorGeorgeRignold,andsomeofthemagazineeditorsandmusicalandliterarycritics.
Mrs.Archerandhergroupfeltacertaintimidityconcerningthesepersons.
Theywereodd,theywereuncertain,theyhadthingsonedidn'tknowaboutinthebackgroundoftheirlivesandminds.
LiteratureandartweredeeplyrespectedintheArcherset,andMrs.ArcherwasalwaysatpainstotellherchildrenhowmuchmoreagreeableandcultivatedsocietyhadbeenwhenitincludedsuchfiguresasWashingtonIrving,Fitz–GreeneHalleckandthepoetof"TheCulpritFay."
Themostcelebratedauthorsofthatgenerationhadbeen"gentlemen";perhapstheunknownpersonswhosucceededthemhadgentlemanlysentiments,buttheirorigin,theirappearance,theirhair,theirintimacywiththestageandtheOpera,madeanyoldNewYorkcriterioninapplicabletothem.
"WhenIwasagirl,"Mrs.Archerusedtosay,"wekneweverybodybetweentheBatteryandCanalStreet;andonlythepeopleoneknewhadcarriages.
Itwasperfectlyeasytoplaceanyonethen;nowonecan'ttell,andIprefernottotry."
OnlyoldCatherineMingott,withherabsenceofmoralprejudicesandalmostparvenuindifferencetothesubtlerdistinctions,mighthavebridgedtheabyss;butshehadneveropenedabookorlookedatapicture,andcaredformusiconlybecauseitremindedherofgalanightsattheItaliens,inthedaysofhertriumphattheTuileries.
PossiblyBeaufort,whowashermatchindaring,wouldhavesucceededinbringingaboutafusion;buthisgrandhouseandsilk–stockingedfootmenwereanobstacletoinformalsociability.
Moreover,hewasasilliterateasoldMrs.Mingott,andconsidered"fellowswhowrote"asthemerepaidpurveyorsofrichmen'spleasures;andnoonerichenoughtoinfluencehisopinionhadeverquestionedit.
NewlandArcherhadbeenawareofthesethingseversincehecouldremember,andhadacceptedthemaspartofthestructureofhisuniverse.
Heknewthatthereweresocietieswherepaintersandpoetsandnovelistsandmenofscience,andevengreatactors,wereassoughtafterasDukes;hehadoftenpicturedtohimselfwhatitwouldhavebeentoliveintheintimacyofdrawing–roomsdominatedbythetalkofMerimee(whose"LettresauneInconnue"wasoneofhisinseparables),ofThackeray,BrowningorWilliamMorris.
ButsuchthingswereinconceivableinNewYork,andunsettlingtothinkof.
Archerknewmostofthe"fellowswhowrote,"themusiciansandthepainters:hemetthemattheCentury,oratthelittlemusicalandtheatricalclubsthatwerebeginningtocomeintoexistence.
Heenjoyedthemthere,andwasboredwiththemattheBlenkers',wheretheyweremingledwithfervidanddowdywomenwhopassedthemaboutlikecapturedcuriosities;andevenafterhismostexcitingtalkswithNedWinsetthealwayscameawaywiththefeelingthatifhisworldwassmall,sowastheirs,andthattheonlywaytoenlargeeitherwastoreachastageofmannerswheretheywouldnaturallymerge.
HewasremindedofthisbytryingtopicturethesocietyinwhichtheCountessOlenskahadlivedandsuffered,andalso—perhaps—tastedmysteriousjoys.
HerememberedwithwhatamusementshehadtoldhimthathergrandmotherMingottandtheWellandsobjectedtoherlivingina"Bohemian"quartergivenoverto"peoplewhowrote."
Itwasnottheperilbutthepovertythatherfamilydisliked;butthatshadeescapedher,andshesupposedtheyconsideredliteraturecompromising.
Sheherselfhadnofearsofit,andthebooksscatteredaboutherdrawing–room(apartofthehouseinwhichbookswereusuallysupposedtobe"outofplace"),thoughchieflyworksoffiction,hadwhettedArcher'sinterestwithsuchnewnamesasthoseofPaulBourget,Huysmans,andtheGoncourtbrothers.
Ruminatingonthesethingsasheapproachedherdoor,hewasoncemoreconsciousofthecuriouswayinwhichshereversedhisvalues,andoftheneedofthinkinghimselfintoconditionsincrediblydifferentfromanythatheknewifheweretobeofuseinherpresentdifficulty.
Nastasiaopenedthedoor,smilingmysteriously.
Onthebenchinthehalllayasable–linedovercoat,afoldedoperahatofdullsilkwithagoldJ.B.onthelining,andawhitesilkmuffler:therewasnomistakingthefactthatthesecostlyarticleswerethepropertyofJuliusBeaufort.
Archerwasangry:soangrythathecamenearscribblingawordonhiscardandgoingaway;thenherememberedthatinwritingtoMadameOlenskahehadbeenkeptbyexcessofdiscretionfromsayingthathewishedtoseeherprivately.
Hehadthereforenoonebuthimselftoblameifshehadopenedherdoorstoothervisitors;andheenteredthedrawing–roomwiththedoggeddeterminationtomakeBeaufortfeelhimselfintheway,andtooutstayhim.
Thebankerstoodleaningagainstthemantelshelf,whichwasdrapedwithanoldembroideryheldinplacebybrasscandelabracontainingchurchcandiesofyellowishwax.
Hehadthrusthischestout,supportinghisshouldersagainstthemantelandrestinghisweightononelargepatent–leatherfoot.
AsArcherenteredhewassmilingandlookingdownonhishostess,whosatonasofaplacedatrightanglestothechimney.
Atablebankedwithflowersformedascreenbehindit,andagainsttheorchidsandazaleaswhichtheyoungmanrecognisedastributesfromtheBeauforthot–houses,MadameOlenskasathalf–reclined,herheadproppedonahandandherwidesleeveleavingthearmbaretotheelbow.
Itwasusualforladieswhoreceivedintheeveningstowearwhatwerecalled"simpledinnerdresses":aclose–fittingarmourofwhale–bonedsilk,slightlyopenintheneck,withlacerufflesfillinginthecrack,andtightsleeveswithaflounceuncoveringjustenoughwristtoshowanEtruscangoldbraceletoravelvetband.
ButMadameOlenska,heedlessoftradition,wasattiredinalongrobeofredvelvetborderedaboutthechinanddownthefrontwithglossyblackfur.
Archerremembered,onhislastvisittoParis,seeingaportraitbythenewpainter,CarolusDuran,whosepictureswerethesensationoftheSalon,inwhichtheladyworeoneoftheseboldsheath–likerobeswithherchinnestlinginfur.
Therewassomethingperverseandprovocativeinthenotionoffurwornintheeveninginaheateddrawing–room,andinthecombinationofamuffledthroatandbarearms;buttheeffectwasundeniablypleasing.
"Lordloveus—threewholedaysatSkuytercliff!"BeaufortwassayinginhisloudsneeringvoiceasArcherentered."You'dbettertakeallyourfurs,andahot–water–bottle."
"Why?Isthehousesocold?"sheasked,holdingoutherlefthandtoArcherinawaymysteriouslysuggestingthatsheexpectedhimtokissit.
"No;butthemissusis,"saidBeaufort,noddingcarelesslytotheyoungman.
"ButIthoughthersokind.Shecameherselftoinviteme.GrannysaysImustcertainlygo."
"Grannywould,ofcourse.AndIsayit'sashameyou'regoingtomissthelittleoystersupperI'dplannedforyouatDelmonico'snextSunday,withCampaniniandScalchiandalotofjollypeople."
ShelookeddoubtfullyfromthebankertoArcher.
"Ah—thatdoestemptme!ExcepttheothereveningatMrs.Struthers'sI'venotmetasingleartistsinceI'vebeenhere."
"Whatkindofartists?Iknowoneortwopainters,verygoodfellows,thatIcouldbringtoseeyouifyou'dallowme,"saidArcherboldly.
"Painters?AretherepaintersinNewYork?"
askedBeaufort,inatoneimplyingthattherecouldbenonesincehedidnotbuytheirpictures;andMadameOlenskasaidtoArcher,withhergravesmile:"Thatwouldbecharming.
ButIwasreallythinkingofdramaticartists,singers,actors,musicians.
Myhusband'shousewasalwaysfullofthem."
Shesaidthewords"myhusband"asifnosinisterassociationswereconnectedwiththem,andinatonethatseemedalmosttosighoverthelostdelightsofhermarriedlife.
Archerlookedatherperplexedly,wonderingifitwerelightnessordissimulationthatenabledhertotouchsoeasilyonthepastattheverymomentwhenshewasriskingherreputationinordertobreakwithit.
"Idothink,"shewenton,addressingbothmen,"thattheimprevuaddstoone'senjoyment.It'sperhapsamistaketoseethesamepeopleeveryday."
"It'sconfoundedlydull,anyhow;NewYorkisdyingofdullness,"Beaufortgrumbled.
"AndwhenItrytolivenitupforyou,yougobackonme.Come—thinkbetterofit!
Sundayisyourlastchance,forCampaninileavesnextweekforBaltimoreandPhiladelphia;andI'veaprivateroom,andaSteinway,andthey'llsingallnightforme."
"Howdelicious!MayIthinkitover,andwritetoyoutomorrowmorning?"
Shespokeamiably,yetwiththeleasthintofdismissalinhervoice.Beaufortevidentlyfeltit,andbeingunusedtodismissals,stoodstaringatherwithanobstinatelinebetweenhiseyes.
"Whynotnow?"
"It'stooseriousaquestiontodecideatthislatehour."
"Doyoucallitlate?"
Shereturnedhisglancecoolly."Yes;becauseIhavestilltotalkbusinesswithMr.Archerforalittlewhile."
"Ah,"Beaufortsnapped.Therewasnoappealfromhertone,andwithaslightshrugherecoveredhiscomposure,tookherhand,whichhekissedwithapractisedair,andcallingoutfromthethreshold:"Isay,Newland,ifyoucanpersuadetheCountesstostopintownofcourseyou'reincludedinthesupper,"lefttheroomwithhisheavyimportantstep.
ForamomentArcherfanciedthatMr.Letterblairmusthavetoldherofhiscoming;buttheirrelevanceofhernextremarkmadehimchangehismind.
"Youknowpainters,then?Youliveintheirmilieu?"sheasked,hereyesfullofinterest.
"Oh,notexactly.Idon'tknowthattheartshaveamilieuhere,anyofthem;they'remorelikeaverythinlysettledoutskirt."
"Butyoucareforsuchthings?"
"Immensely.WhenI'minParisorLondonInevermissanexhibition.Itrytokeepup."
Shelookeddownatthetipofthelittlesatinbootthatpeepedfromherlongdraperies.
"Iusedtocareimmenselytoo:mylifewasfullofsuchthings.ButnowIwanttotrynotto."
"Youwanttotrynotto?"
"Yes:Iwanttocastoffallmyoldlife,tobecomejustlikeeverybodyelsehere."
Archerreddened."You'llneverbelikeeverybodyelse,"hesaid.
Sheraisedherstraighteyebrowsalittle."Ah,don'tsaythat.IfyouknewhowIhatetobedifferent!"
Herfacehadgrownassombreasatragicmask.Sheleanedforward,claspingherkneeinherthinhands,andlookingawayfromhimintoremotedarkdistances.
"Iwanttogetawayfromitall,"sheinsisted.
Hewaitedamomentandclearedhisthroat."Iknow.Mr.Letterblairhastoldme."
"Ah?"
"That'sthereasonI'vecome.Heaskedmeto—youseeI'minthefirm."
Shelookedslightlysurprised,andthenhereyesbrightened."Youmeanyoucanmanageitforme?IcantalktoyouinsteadofMr.Letterblair?Oh,thatwillbesomucheasier!"
Hertonetouchedhim,andhisconfidencegrewwithhisself–satisfaction.
HeperceivedthatshehadspokenofbusinesstoBeaufortsimplytogetridofhim;andtohaveroutedBeaufortwassomethingofatriumph.
"Iamheretotalkaboutit,"herepeated.
Shesatsilent,herheadstillproppedbythearmthatrestedonthebackofthesofa.
Herfacelookedpaleandextinguished,asifdimmedbytherichredofherdress.
ShestruckArcher,ofasudden,asapatheticandevenpitifulfigure.
"Nowwe'recomingtohardfacts,"hethought,consciousinhimselfofthesameinstinctiverecoilthathehadsooftencriticisedinhismotherandhercontemporaries.
Howlittlepracticehehadhadindealingwithunusualsituations!
Theirveryvocabularywasunfamiliartohim,andseemedtobelongtofictionandthestage.
Infaceofwhatwascominghefeltasawkwardandembarrassedasaboy.
AfterapauseMadameOlenskabrokeoutwithunexpectedvehemence:"Iwanttobefree;Iwanttowipeoutallthepast."
"Iunderstandthat."
Herfacewarmed."Thenyou'llhelpme?"
"First—"hehesitated—"perhapsIoughttoknowalittlemore."
Sheseemedsurprised."Youknowaboutmyhusband—mylifewithhim?"
Hemadeasignofassent.
"Well—then—whatmoreisthere?Inthiscountryaresuchthingstolerated?I'maProtestant—ourchurchdoesnotforbiddivorceinsuchcases."
"Certainlynot."
Theywerebothsilentagain,andArcherfeltthespectreofCountOlenski'slettergrimacinghideouslybetweenthem.
Theletterfilledonlyhalfapage,andwasjustwhathehaddescribedittobeinspeakingofittoMr.Letterblair:thevaguechargeofanangryblackguard.Buthowmuchtruthwasbehindit?OnlyCountOlenski'swifecouldtell.
"I'velookedthroughthepapersyougavetoMr.Letterblair,"hesaidatlength.
"Well—cantherebeanythingmoreabominable?"
"No."
Shechangedherpositionslightly,screeninghereyeswithherliftedhand.
"Ofcourseyouknow,"Archercontinued,"thatifyourhusbandchoosestofightthecase—ashethreatensto—"
"Yes—?"
"Hecansaythings—thingsthatmightbeunpl—mightbedisagreeabletoyou:saythempublicly,sothattheywouldgetabout,andharmyouevenif—"
"If—?"
"Imean:nomatterhowunfoundedtheywere."
Shepausedforalonginterval;solongthat,notwishingtokeephiseyesonhershadedface,hehadtimetoimprintonhismindtheexactshapeofherotherhand,theoneonherknee,andeverydetailofthethreeringsonherfourthandfifthfingers;amongwhich,henoticed,aweddingringdidnotappear.
"Whatharmcouldsuchaccusations,evenifhemadethempublicly,domehere?"
Itwasonhislipstoexclaim:"Mypoorchild—farmoreharmthananywhereelse!"
Instead,heanswered,inavoicethatsoundedinhisearslikeMr.Letterblair's:"NewYorksocietyisaverysmallworldcomparedwiththeoneyou'velivedin.
Andit'sruled,inspiteofappearances,byafewpeoplewith—well,ratherold–fashionedideas."
Shesaidnothing,andhecontinued:"Ourideasaboutmarriageanddivorceareparticularlyold–fashioned.Ourlegislationfavoursdivorce—oursocialcustomsdon't."
"Never?"
"Well—notifthewoman,howeverinjured,howeverirreproachable,hasappearancesintheleastdegreeagainsther,hasexposedherselfbyanyunconventionalactionto—tooffensiveinsinuations—"
Shedroopedherheadalittlelower,andhewaitedagain,intenselyhopingforaflashofindignation,oratleastabriefcryofdenial.Nonecame.
Alittletravellingclocktickedpurringlyatherelbow,andalogbrokeintwoandsentupashowerofsparks.ThewholehushedandbroodingroomseemedtobewaitingsilentlywithArcher.
"Yes,"shemurmuredatlength,"that'swhatmyfamilytellme."
Hewincedalittle."It'snotunnatural—"
"OURfamily,"shecorrectedherself;andArchercoloured."Foryou'llbemycousinsoon,"shecontinuedgently.
"Ihopeso."
"Andyoutaketheirview?"
Hestoodupatthis,wanderedacrosstheroom,staredwithvoideyesatoneofthepicturesagainsttheoldreddamask,andcamebackirresolutelytoherside.
Howcouldhesay:"Yes,ifwhatyourhusbandhintsistrue,orifyou'venowayofdisprovingit?"
"Sincerely—"sheinterjected,ashewasabouttospeak.
Helookeddownintothefire."Sincerely,then—whatshouldyougainthatwouldcompensateforthepossibility—thecertainty—ofalotofbeastlytalk?"
"Butmyfreedom—isthatnothing?"
Itflashedacrosshimatthatinstantthatthechargeintheletterwastrue,andthatshehopedtomarrythepartnerofherguilt.
Howwashetotellherthat,ifshereallycherishedsuchaplan,thelawsoftheStatewereinexorablyopposedtoit?
Themeresuspicionthatthethoughtwasinhermindmadehimfeelharshlyandimpatientlytowardher.
"Butaren'tyouasfreeasairasitis?"hereturned."Whocantouchyou?
Mr.Letterblairtellsmethefinancialquestionhasbeensettled—"
"Oh,yes,"shesaidindifferently.
"Well,then:isitworthwhiletoriskwhatmaybeinfinitelydisagreeableandpainful?Thinkofthenewspapers—theirvileness!It'sallstupidandnarrowandunjust—butonecan'tmakeoversociety."
"No,"sheacquiesced;andhertonewassofaintanddesolatethathefeltasuddenremorseforhisownhardthoughts.
"Theindividual,insuchcases,isnearlyalwayssacrificedtowhatissupposedtobethecollectiveinterest:peopleclingtoanyconventionthatkeepsthefamilytogether—protectsthechildren,ifthereareany,"herambledon,pouringoutallthestockphrasesthatrosetohislipsinhisintensedesiretocoverovertheuglyrealitywhichhersilenceseemedtohavelaidbare.
Sinceshewouldnotorcouldnotsaytheonewordthatwouldhaveclearedtheair,hiswishwasnottoletherfeelthathewastryingtoprobeintohersecret.
Betterkeeponthesurface,intheprudentoldNewYorkway,thanriskuncoveringawoundhecouldnotheal.
"It'smybusiness,youknow,"hewenton,"tohelpyoutoseethesethingsasthepeoplewhoarefondestofyouseethem.
TheMingotts,theWellands,thevanderLuydens,allyourfriendsandrelations:ifIdidn'tshowyouhonestlyhowtheyjudgesuchquestions,itwouldn'tbefairofme,wouldit?"
Hespokeinsistently,almostpleadingwithherinhiseagernesstocoverupthatyawningsilence.
Shesaidslowly:"No;itwouldn'tbefair."
Thefirehadcrumbleddowntogreyness,andoneofthelampsmadeagurglingappealforattention.MadameOlenskarose,wounditupandreturnedtothefire,butwithoutresumingherseat.
Herremainingonherfeetseemedtosignifythattherewasnothingmoreforeitherofthemtosay,andArcherstoodupalso.
"Verywell;Iwilldowhatyouwish,"shesaidabruptly.Thebloodrushedtohisforehead;and,takenabackbythesuddennessofhersurrender,hecaughthertwohandsawkwardlyinhis.
"I—Idowanttohelpyou,"hesaid.
"Youdohelpme.Goodnight,mycousin."
Hebentandlaidhislipsonherhands,whichwerecoldandlifeless.
Shedrewthemaway,andheturnedtothedoor,foundhiscoatandhatunderthefaintgas–lightofthehall,andplungedoutintothewinternightburstingwiththebelatedeloquenceoftheinarticulate.
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