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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Age of Innocence
-
-Author: Edith Wharton
-
-Posting Date: August 12, 2008 [EBook #541]
-Release Date: May, 1996
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGE OF INNOCENCE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Judith Boss and Charles Keller.  HTML version by Al Haines.
-
-
-
-
-
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 541 ***
 
 
 
 
 The Age of Innocence
 
+by Edith Wharton
 
-by
-
-Edith Wharton
-
-
-JTABLE 6 18 1
 
-JTABLE 6 16 19
 
 
 Book I
 
 
 
+
 I.
 
+
 On a January evening of the early seventies, Christine Nilsson was
 singing in Faust at the Academy of Music in New York.
 
@@ -67,122 +34,122 @@ problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.
 
 It was Madame Nilsson's first appearance that winter, and what the
 daily press had already learned to describe as "an exceptionally
-brilliant audience" had gathered to hear her, transported through the
-slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious family
-landau, or in the humbler but more convenient "Brown coupe." To come to
-the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honourable a way of arriving
-as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same means had the
-immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to
+brilliant audience" had gathered to hear her, transported through
+the slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious
+family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient "Brown coupe."
+To come to the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honourable a way
+of arriving as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same means
+had the immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to
 democratic principles) to scramble into the first Brown conveyance in
 the line, instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose of
-one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy.  It was
+one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy. It was
 one of the great livery-stableman's most masterly intuitions to have
 discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more
 quickly than they want to get to it.
 
 When Newland Archer opened the door at the back of the club box the
-curtain had just gone up on the garden scene.  There was no reason why
-the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at seven,
-alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward over a
-cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases and
-finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where Mrs.
-Archer allowed smoking.  But, in the first place, New York was a
-metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was "not the
-thing" to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not "the
-thing" played a part as important in Newland Archer's New York as the
-inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his
+curtain had just gone up on the garden scene. There was no reason
+why the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at
+seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward
+over a cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases
+and finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where
+Mrs. Archer allowed smoking. But, in the first place, New York was
+a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was "not
+the thing" to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not
+"the thing" played a part as important in Newland Archer's New York
+as the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his
 forefathers thousands of years ago.
 
-The second reason for his delay was a personal one.  He had dawdled
-over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking over
-a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than its
-realisation.  This was especially the case when the pleasure was a
-delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion the
-moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality
+The second reason for his delay was a personal one. He had dawdled
+over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking
+over a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than
+its realisation. This was especially the case when the pleasure was
+a delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion
+the moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality
 that--well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima
 donna's stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more
-significant moment than just as she was singing:  "He loves me--he
-loves me not--HE LOVES ME!--" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals
-with notes as clear as dew.
-
-She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an
-unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the
-German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be
-translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of
-English-speaking audiences.  This seemed as natural to Newland Archer
-as all the other conventions on which his life was moulded: such as the
-duty of using two silver-backed brushes with his monogram in blue
+significant moment than just as she was singing: "He loves me--he loves
+me not--_he loves me_!--" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals with
+notes as clear as dew.
+
+She sang, of course, "_M'ama_!" and not "he loves me," since an
+unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required
+that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists
+should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of
+English-speaking audiences. This seemed as natural to Newland Archer
+as all the other conventions on which his life was moulded: such as
+the duty of using two silver-backed brushes with his monogram in blue
 enamel to part his hair, and of never appearing in society without a
 flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
 
-"M'ama ... non m'ama ..." the prima donna sang, and "M'ama!", with a
-final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to
-her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of
-the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight purple
-velvet doublet and plumed cap, to look as pure and true as his artless
-victim.
+"_M'ama ... non m'ama ..._" the prima donna sang, and "_M'ama_!", with
+a final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy
+to her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance
+of the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight
+purple velvet doublet and plumed cap, to look as pure and true as his
+artless victim.
 
 Newland Archer, leaning against the wall at the back of the club box,
 turned his eyes from the stage and scanned the opposite side of the
-house.  Directly facing him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott,
-whose monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible for her to
-attend the Opera, but who was always represented on fashionable nights
-by some of the younger members of the family.  On this occasion, the
-front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell
+house. Directly facing him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott,
+whose monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible for her
+to attend the Opera, but who was always represented on fashionable
+nights by some of the younger members of the family. On this occasion,
+the front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell
 Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and slightly withdrawn behind
 these brocaded matrons sat a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically
-fixed on the stagelovers.  As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled out
-above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during the
-Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow
-to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her
-breast to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened with a
-single gardenia.  She dropped her eyes to the immense bouquet of
-lilies-of-the-valley on her knee, and Newland Archer saw her
-white-gloved finger-tips touch the flowers softly.  He drew a breath of
+fixed on the stage-lovers. As Madame Nilsson's "_M'ama_!" thrilled
+out above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during
+the Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her
+brow to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of
+her breast to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened
+with a single gardenia. She dropped her eyes to the immense bouquet
+of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee, and Newland Archer saw her
+white-gloved finger-tips touch the flowers softly. He drew a breath of
 satisfied vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
 
-No expense had been spared on the setting, which was acknowledged to be
-very beautiful even by people who shared his acquaintance with the
-Opera houses of Paris and Vienna.  The foreground, to the footlights,
-was covered with emerald green cloth.  In the middle distance
+No expense had been spared on the setting, which was acknowledged to
+be very beautiful even by people who shared his acquaintance with the
+Opera houses of Paris and Vienna. The foreground, to the footlights,
+was covered with emerald green cloth. In the middle distance
 symmetrical mounds of woolly green moss bounded by croquet hoops formed
-the base of shrubs shaped like orange-trees but studded with large pink
-and red roses.  Gigantic pansies, considerably larger than the roses,
-and closely resembling the floral pen-wipers made by female
+the base of shrubs shaped like orange-trees but studded with large
+pink and red roses. Gigantic pansies, considerably larger than the
+roses, and closely resembling the floral pen-wipers made by female
 parishioners for fashionable clergymen, sprang from the moss beneath
 the rose-trees; and here and there a daisy grafted on a rose-branch
 flowered with a luxuriance prophetic of Mr. Luther Burbank's far-off
 prodigies.
 
 In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white
-cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue
-girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her
-muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's
+cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a
+blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side
+of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's
 impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his
 designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the
 ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from
 the right wing.
 
-"The darling!" thought Newland Archer, his glance flitting back to the
-young girl with the lilies-of-the-valley.  "She doesn't even guess what
-it's all about." And he contemplated her absorbed young face with a
-thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine initiation
-was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity.  "We'll
-read Faust together ... by the Italian lakes ..." he thought, somewhat
-hazily confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with the
-masterpieces of literature which it would be his manly privilege to
-reveal to his bride.  It was only that afternoon that May Welland had
+"The darling!" thought Newland Archer, his glance flitting back to
+the young girl with the lilies-of-the-valley. "She doesn't even guess
+what it's all about." And he contemplated her absorbed young face
+with a thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine
+initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity.
+"We'll read Faust together ... by the Italian lakes ..." he thought,
+somewhat hazily confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with
+the masterpieces of literature which it would be his manly privilege to
+reveal to his bride. It was only that afternoon that May Welland had
 let him guess that she "cared" (New York's consecrated phrase of maiden
 avowal), and already his imagination, leaping ahead of the engagement
 ring, the betrothal kiss and the march from Lohengrin, pictured her at
 his side in some scene of old European witchery.
 
 He did not in the least wish the future Mrs. Newland Archer to be a
-simpleton.  He meant her (thanks to his enlightening companionship) to
+simpleton. He meant her (thanks to his enlightening companionship) to
 develop a social tact and readiness of wit enabling her to hold her own
 with the most popular married women of the "younger set," in which it
 was the recognised custom to attract masculine homage while playfully
-discouraging it.  If he had probed to the bottom of his vanity (as he
+discouraging it. If he had probed to the bottom of his vanity (as he
 sometimes nearly did) he would have found there the wish that his wife
 should be as worldly-wise and as eager to please as the married lady
 whose charms had held his fancy through two mildly agitated years;
@@ -191,36 +158,36 @@ that unhappy being's life, and had disarranged his own plans for a
 whole winter.
 
 How this miracle of fire and ice was to be created, and to sustain
-itself in a harsh world, he had never taken the time to think out; but
-he was content to hold his view without analysing it, since he knew it
-was that of all the carefully-brushed, white-waistcoated,
-button-hole-flowered gentlemen who succeeded each other in the club
-box, exchanged friendly greetings with him, and turned their
+itself in a harsh world, he had never taken the time to think out;
+but he was content to hold his view without analysing it, since he
+knew it was that of all the carefully-brushed, white-waistcoated,
+button-hole-flowered gentlemen who succeeded each other in the
+club box, exchanged friendly greetings with him, and turned their
 opera-glasses critically on the circle of ladies who were the product
-of the system.  In matters intellectual and artistic Newland Archer
-felt himself distinctly the superior of these chosen specimens of old
-New York gentility; he had probably read more, thought more, and even
-seen a good deal more of the world, than any other man of the number.
-Singly they betrayed their inferiority; but grouped together they
-represented "New York," and the habit of masculine solidarity made him
-accept their doctrine on all the issues called moral.  He instinctively
-felt that in this respect it would be troublesome--and also rather bad
-form--to strike out for himself.
+of the system. In matters intellectual and artistic Newland Archer felt
+himself distinctly the superior of these chosen specimens of old New
+York gentility; he had probably read more, thought more, and even seen
+a good deal more of the world, than any other man of the number. Singly
+they betrayed their inferiority; but grouped together they represented
+"New York," and the habit of masculine solidarity made him accept their
+doctrine on all the issues called moral. He instinctively felt that
+in this respect it would be troublesome--and also rather bad form--to
+strike out for himself.
 
 "Well--upon my soul!" exclaimed Lawrence Lefferts, turning his
-opera-glass abruptly away from the stage.  Lawrence Lefferts was, on
-the whole, the foremost authority on "form" in New York.  He had
+opera-glass abruptly away from the stage. Lawrence Lefferts was,
+on the whole, the foremost authority on "form" in New York. He had
 probably devoted more time than any one else to the study of this
 intricate and fascinating question; but study alone could not account
-for his complete and easy competence.  One had only to look at him,
-from the slant of his bald forehead and the curve of his beautiful fair
-moustache to the long patent-leather feet at the other end of his lean
-and elegant person, to feel that the knowledge of "form" must be
-congenital in any one who knew how to wear such good clothes so
-carelessly and carry such height with so much lounging grace.  As a
-young admirer had once said of him:  "If anybody can tell a fellow just
+for his complete and easy competence. One had only to look at him,
+from the slant of his bald forehead and the curve of his beautiful
+fair moustache to the long patent-leather feet at the other end of
+his lean and elegant person, to feel that the knowledge of "form"
+must be congenital in any one who knew how to wear such good clothes
+so carelessly and carry such height with so much lounging grace. As a
+young admirer had once said of him: "If anybody can tell a fellow just
 when to wear a black tie with evening clothes and when not to, it's
-Larry Lefferts."  And on the question of pumps versus patent-leather
+Larry Lefferts." And on the question of pumps versus patent-leather
 "Oxfords" his authority had never been disputed.
 
 "My God!" he said; and silently handed his glass to old Sillerton
@@ -228,28 +195,28 @@ Jackson.
 
 Newland Archer, following Lefferts's glance, saw with surprise that his
 exclamation had been occasioned by the entry of a new figure into old
-Mrs. Mingott's box.  It was that of a slim young woman, a little less
+Mrs. Mingott's box. It was that of a slim young woman, a little less
 tall than May Welland, with brown hair growing in close curls about her
-temples and held in place by a narrow band of diamonds.  The suggestion
+temples and held in place by a narrow band of diamonds. The suggestion
 of this headdress, which gave her what was then called a "Josephine
 look," was carried out in the cut of the dark blue velvet gown rather
 theatrically caught up under her bosom by a girdle with a large
-old-fashioned clasp.  The wearer of this unusual dress, who seemed
-quite unconscious of the attention it was attracting, stood a moment in
-the centre of the box, discussing with Mrs. Welland the propriety of
-taking the latter's place in the front right-hand corner; then she
-yielded with a slight smile, and seated herself in line with Mrs.
-Welland's sister-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who was installed in the
-opposite corner.
+old-fashioned clasp. The wearer of this unusual dress, who seemed quite
+unconscious of the attention it was attracting, stood a moment in the
+centre of the box, discussing with Mrs. Welland the propriety of taking
+the latter's place in the front right-hand corner; then she yielded
+with a slight smile, and seated herself in line with Mrs. Welland's
+sister-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who was installed in the opposite
+corner.
 
 Mr. Sillerton Jackson had returned the opera-glass to Lawrence
-Lefferts.  The whole of the club turned instinctively, waiting to hear
-what the old man had to say; for old Mr. Jackson was as great an
-authority on "family" as Lawrence Lefferts was on "form."  He knew all
-the ramifications of New York's cousinships; and could not only
-elucidate such complicated questions as that of the connection between
-the Mingotts (through the Thorleys) with the Dallases of South
-Carolina, and that of the relationship of the elder branch of
+Lefferts. The whole of the club turned instinctively, waiting to
+hear what the old man had to say; for old Mr. Jackson was as great
+an authority on "family" as Lawrence Lefferts was on "form." He
+knew all the ramifications of New York's cousinships; and could not
+only elucidate such complicated questions as that of the connection
+between the Mingotts (through the Thorleys) with the Dallases of
+South Carolina, and that of the relationship of the elder branch of
 Philadelphia Thorleys to the Albany Chiverses (on no account to be
 confused with the Manson Chiverses of University Place), but could also
 enumerate the leading characteristics of each family: as, for instance,
@@ -261,34 +228,36 @@ to intermarry--with the disastrous exception of poor Medora Manson,
 who, as everybody knew ... but then her mother was a Rushworth.
 
 In addition to this forest of family trees, Mr. Sillerton Jackson
-carried between his narrow hollow temples, and under his soft thatch of
-silver hair, a register of most of the scandals and mysteries that had
-smouldered under the unruffled surface of New York society within the
-last fifty years.  So far indeed did his information extend, and so
-acutely retentive was his memory, that he was supposed to be the only
-man who could have told you who Julius Beaufort, the banker, really
-was, and what had become of handsome Bob Spicer, old Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's father, who had disappeared so mysteriously (with a large sum
-of trust money) less than a year after his marriage, on the very day
-that a beautiful Spanish dancer who had been delighting thronged
+carried between his narrow hollow temples, and under his soft thatch
+of silver hair, a register of most of the scandals and mysteries that
+had smouldered under the unruffled surface of New York society within
+the last fifty years. So far indeed did his information extend, and
+so acutely retentive was his memory, that he was supposed to be the
+only man who could have told you who Julius Beaufort, the banker,
+really was, and what had become of handsome Bob Spicer, old Mrs. Manson
+Mingott's father, who had disappeared so mysteriously (with a large
+sum of trust money) less than a year after his marriage, on the very
+day that a beautiful Spanish dancer who had been delighting thronged
 audiences in the old Opera-house on the Battery had taken ship for
-Cuba.  But these mysteries, and many others, were closely locked in Mr.
+Cuba. But these mysteries, and many others, were closely locked in Mr.
 Jackson's breast; for not only did his keen sense of honour forbid his
 repeating anything privately imparted, but he was fully aware that his
 reputation for discretion increased his opportunities of finding out
 what he wanted to know.
 
 The club box, therefore, waited in visible suspense while Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson handed back Lawrence Lefferts's opera-glass.  For a moment he
+Jackson handed back Lawrence Lefferts's opera-glass. For a moment he
 silently scrutinised the attentive group out of his filmy blue eyes
 overhung by old veined lids; then he gave his moustache a thoughtful
-twist, and said simply:  "I didn't think the Mingotts would have tried
+twist, and said simply: "I didn't think the Mingotts would have tried
 it on."
 
 
 
+
 II.
 
+
 Newland Archer, during this brief episode, had been thrown into a
 strange state of embarrassment.
 
@@ -296,49 +265,49 @@ It was annoying that the box which was thus attracting the undivided
 attention of masculine New York should be that in which his betrothed
 was seated between her mother and aunt; and for a moment he could not
 identify the lady in the Empire dress, nor imagine why her presence
-created such excitement among the initiated.  Then light dawned on him,
-and with it came a momentary rush of indignation.  No, indeed; no one
+created such excitement among the initiated. Then light dawned on him,
+and with it came a momentary rush of indignation. No, indeed; no one
 would have thought the Mingotts would have tried it on!
 
 But they had; they undoubtedly had; for the low-toned comments behind
 him left no doubt in Archer's mind that the young woman was May
 Welland's cousin, the cousin always referred to in the family as "poor
-Ellen Olenska."  Archer knew that she had suddenly arrived from Europe
+Ellen Olenska." Archer knew that she had suddenly arrived from Europe
 a day or two previously; he had even heard from Miss Welland (not
 disapprovingly) that she had been to see poor Ellen, who was staying
-with old Mrs. Mingott.  Archer entirely approved of family solidarity,
+with old Mrs. Mingott. Archer entirely approved of family solidarity,
 and one of the qualities he most admired in the Mingotts was their
 resolute championship of the few black sheep that their blameless stock
-had produced.  There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man's
+had produced. There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man's
 heart, and he was glad that his future wife should not be restrained by
 false prudery from being kind (in private) to her unhappy cousin; but
 to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a different thing
 from producing her in public, at the Opera of all places, and in the
 very box with the young girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer,
-was to be announced within a few weeks.  No, he felt as old Sillerton
+was to be announced within a few weeks. No, he felt as old Sillerton
 Jackson felt; he did not think the Mingotts would have tried it on!
 
 He knew, of course, that whatever man dared (within Fifth Avenue's
 limits) that old Mrs. Manson Mingott, the Matriarch of the line, would
-dare.  He had always admired the high and mighty old lady, who, in
-spite of having been only Catherine Spicer of Staten Island, with a
-father mysteriously discredited, and neither money nor position enough
-to make people forget it, had allied herself with the head of the
-wealthy Mingott line, married two of her daughters to "foreigners" (an
-Italian marquis and an English banker), and put the crowning touch to
-her audacities by building a large house of pale cream-coloured stone
-(when brown sandstone seemed as much the only wear as a frock-coat in
-the afternoon) in an inaccessible wilderness near the Central Park.
-
-Old Mrs. Mingott's foreign daughters had become a legend.  They never
+dare. He had always admired the high and mighty old lady, who, in spite
+of having been only Catherine Spicer of Staten Island, with a father
+mysteriously discredited, and neither money nor position enough to
+make people forget it, had allied herself with the head of the wealthy
+Mingott line, married two of her daughters to "foreigners" (an Italian
+marquis and an English banker), and put the crowning touch to her
+audacities by building a large house of pale cream-coloured stone (when
+brown sandstone seemed as much the only wear as a frock-coat in the
+afternoon) in an inaccessible wilderness near the Central Park.
+
+Old Mrs. Mingott's foreign daughters had become a legend. They never
 came back to see their mother, and the latter being, like many persons
 of active mind and dominating will, sedentary and corpulent in her
-habit, had philosophically remained at home.  But the cream-coloured
+habit, had philosophically remained at home. But the cream-coloured
 house (supposed to be modelled on the private hotels of the Parisian
-aristocracy) was there as a visible proof of her moral courage; and she
-throned in it, among pre-Revolutionary furniture and souvenirs of the
-Tuileries of Louis Napoleon (where she had shone in her middle age), as
-placidly as if there were nothing peculiar in living above
+aristocracy) was there as a visible proof of her moral courage; and
+she throned in it, among pre-Revolutionary furniture and souvenirs of
+the Tuileries of Louis Napoleon (where she had shone in her middle
+age), as placidly as if there were nothing peculiar in living above
 Thirty-fourth Street, or in having French windows that opened like
 doors instead of sashes that pushed up.
 
@@ -348,58 +317,58 @@ justified every success, and excused a certain number of failings.
 Unkind people said that, like her Imperial namesake, she had won her
 way to success by strength of will and hardness of heart, and a kind of
 haughty effrontery that was somehow justified by the extreme decency
-and dignity of her private life.  Mr. Manson Mingott had died when she
+and dignity of her private life. Mr. Manson Mingott had died when she
 was only twenty-eight, and had "tied up" the money with an additional
 caution born of the general distrust of the Spicers; but his bold young
 widow went her way fearlessly, mingled freely in foreign society,
 married her daughters in heaven knew what corrupt and fashionable
 circles, hobnobbed with Dukes and Ambassadors, associated familiarly
 with Papists, entertained Opera singers, and was the intimate friend of
-Mme. Taglioni; and all the while (as Sillerton Jackson was the first to
-proclaim) there had never been a breath on her reputation; the only
-respect, he always added, in which she differed from the earlier
+Mme. Taglioni; and all the while (as Sillerton Jackson was the first
+to proclaim) there had never been a breath on her reputation; the
+only respect, he always added, in which she differed from the earlier
 Catherine.
 
 Mrs. Manson Mingott had long since succeeded in untying her husband's
-fortune, and had lived in affluence for half a century; but memories of
-her early straits had made her excessively thrifty, and though, when
-she bought a dress or a piece of furniture, she took care that it
-should be of the best, she could not bring herself to spend much on the
-transient pleasures of the table.  Therefore, for totally different
+fortune, and had lived in affluence for half a century; but memories
+of her early straits had made her excessively thrifty, and though,
+when she bought a dress or a piece of furniture, she took care that it
+should be of the best, she could not bring herself to spend much on
+the transient pleasures of the table. Therefore, for totally different
 reasons, her food was as poor as Mrs. Archer's, and her wines did
-nothing to redeem it.  Her relatives considered that the penury of her
+nothing to redeem it. Her relatives considered that the penury of her
 table discredited the Mingott name, which had always been associated
 with good living; but people continued to come to her in spite of the
 "made dishes" and flat champagne, and in reply to the remonstrances of
 her son Lovell (who tried to retrieve the family credit by having the
-best chef in New York) she used to say laughingly:  "What's the use of
+best chef in New York) she used to say laughingly: "What's the use of
 two good cooks in one family, now that I've married the girls and can't
 eat sauces?"
 
-Newland Archer, as he mused on these things, had once more turned his
-eyes toward the Mingott box.  He saw that Mrs. Welland and her
+Newland Archer, as he mused on these things, had once more turned
+his eyes toward the Mingott box. He saw that Mrs. Welland and her
 sister-in-law were facing their semicircle of critics with the
-Mingottian APLOMB which old Catherine had inculcated in all her tribe,
-and that only May Welland betrayed, by a heightened colour (perhaps due
-to the knowledge that he was watching her) a sense of the gravity of
-the situation.  As for the cause of the commotion, she sat gracefully
-in her corner of the box, her eyes fixed on the stage, and revealing,
-as she leaned forward, a little more shoulder and bosom than New York
-was accustomed to seeing, at least in ladies who had reasons for
-wishing to pass unnoticed.
+Mingottian _aplomb_ which old Catherine had inculcated in all her
+tribe, and that only May Welland betrayed, by a heightened colour
+(perhaps due to the knowledge that he was watching her) a sense of the
+gravity of the situation. As for the cause of the commotion, she sat
+gracefully in her corner of the box, her eyes fixed on the stage, and
+revealing, as she leaned forward, a little more shoulder and bosom than
+New York was accustomed to seeing, at least in ladies who had reasons
+for wishing to pass unnoticed.
 
 Few things seemed to Newland Archer more awful than an offence against
 "Taste," that far-off divinity of whom "Form" was the mere visible
-representative and vicegerent.  Madame Olenska's pale and serious face
+representative and vicegerent. Madame Olenska's pale and serious face
 appealed to his fancy as suited to the occasion and to her unhappy
 situation; but the way her dress (which had no tucker) sloped away from
-her thin shoulders shocked and troubled him.  He hated to think of May
+her thin shoulders shocked and troubled him. He hated to think of May
 Welland's being exposed to the influence of a young woman so careless
 of the dictates of Taste.
 
 "After all," he heard one of the younger men begin behind him
 (everybody talked through the Mephistopheles-and-Martha scenes), "after
-all, just WHAT happened?"
+all, just _what_ happened?"
 
 "Well--she left him; nobody attempts to deny that."
 
@@ -408,42 +377,42 @@ Thorley, who was evidently preparing to enter the lists as the lady's
 champion.
 
 "The very worst; I knew him at Nice," said Lawrence Lefferts with
-authority.  "A half-paralysed white sneering fellow--rather handsome
-head, but eyes with a lot of lashes.  Well, I'll tell you the sort:
-when he wasn't with women he was collecting china.  Paying any price
-for both, I understand."
+authority. "A half-paralysed white sneering fellow--rather handsome
+head, but eyes with a lot of lashes. Well, I'll tell you the sort: when
+he wasn't with women he was collecting china. Paying any price for
+both, I understand."
 
-There was a general laugh, and the young champion said:  "Well,
+There was a general laugh, and the young champion said: "Well,
 then----?"
 
 "Well, then; she bolted with his secretary."
 
-"Oh, I see."  The champion's face fell.
+"Oh, I see." The champion's face fell.
 
 "It didn't last long, though: I heard of her a few months later living
-alone in Venice.  I believe Lovell Mingott went out to get her.  He
-said she was desperately unhappy.  That's all right--but this parading
-her at the Opera's another thing."
+alone in Venice. I believe Lovell Mingott went out to get her. He said
+she was desperately unhappy. That's all right--but this parading her at
+the Opera's another thing."
 
 "Perhaps," young Thorley hazarded, "she's too unhappy to be left at
 home."
 
 This was greeted with an irreverent laugh, and the youth blushed
 deeply, and tried to look as if he had meant to insinuate what knowing
-people called a "double entendre."
+people called a "_double entendre_."
 
 "Well--it's queer to have brought Miss Welland, anyhow," some one said
 in a low tone, with a side-glance at Archer.
 
 "Oh, that's part of the campaign: Granny's orders, no doubt," Lefferts
-laughed.  "When the old lady does a thing she does it thoroughly."
-
-The act was ending, and there was a general stir in the box.  Suddenly
-Newland Archer felt himself impelled to decisive action.  The desire to
-be the first man to enter Mrs. Mingott's box, to proclaim to the
-waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her through
-whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous situation might involve
-her in; this impulse had abruptly overruled all scruples and
+laughed. "When the old lady does a thing she does it thoroughly."
+
+The act was ending, and there was a general stir in the box. Suddenly
+Newland Archer felt himself impelled to decisive action. The desire
+to be the first man to enter Mrs. Mingott's box, to proclaim to
+the waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her
+through whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous situation might
+involve her in; this impulse had abruptly overruled all scruples and
 hesitations, and sent him hurrying through the red corridors to the
 farther side of the house.
 
@@ -453,64 +422,66 @@ both considered so high a virtue would not permit her to tell him so.
 The persons of their world lived in an atmosphere of faint implications
 and pale delicacies, and the fact that he and she understood each other
 without a word seemed to the young man to bring them nearer than any
-explanation would have done.  Her eyes said:  "You see why Mamma
-brought me," and his answered:  "I would not for the world have had you
-stay away."
+explanation would have done. Her eyes said: "You see why Mamma brought
+me," and his answered: "I would not for the world have had you stay
+away."
 
 "You know my niece Countess Olenska?" Mrs. Welland enquired as she
-shook hands with her future son-in-law.  Archer bowed without extending
+shook hands with her future son-in-law. Archer bowed without extending
 his hand, as was the custom on being introduced to a lady; and Ellen
 Olenska bent her head slightly, keeping her own pale-gloved hands
-clasped on her huge fan of eagle feathers.  Having greeted Mrs. Lovell
+clasped on her huge fan of eagle feathers. Having greeted Mrs. Lovell
 Mingott, a large blonde lady in creaking satin, he sat down beside his
-betrothed, and said in a low tone:  "I hope you've told Madame Olenska
-that we're engaged?  I want everybody to know--I want you to let me
+betrothed, and said in a low tone: "I hope you've told Madame Olenska
+that we're engaged? I want everybody to know--I want you to let me
 announce it this evening at the ball."
 
 Miss Welland's face grew rosy as the dawn, and she looked at him with
-radiant eyes.  "If you can persuade Mamma," she said; "but why should
-we change what is already settled?"  He made no answer but that which
-his eyes returned, and she added, still more confidently smiling:
-"Tell my cousin yourself: I give you leave.  She says she used to play
-with you when you were children."
+radiant eyes. "If you can persuade Mamma," she said; "but why should we
+change what is already settled?" He made no answer but that which his
+eyes returned, and she added, still more confidently smiling: "Tell my
+cousin yourself: I give you leave. She says she used to play with you
+when you were children."
 
 She made way for him by pushing back her chair, and promptly, and a
 little ostentatiously, with the desire that the whole house should see
 what he was doing, Archer seated himself at the Countess Olenska's side.
 
-"We DID use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her grave
-eyes to his.  "You were a horrid boy, and kissed me once behind a door;
-but it was your cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me, that I
-was in love with."  Her glance swept the horse-shoe curve of boxes.
-"Ah, how this brings it all back to me--I see everybody here in
+"We _did_ use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her
+grave eyes to his. "You were a horrid boy, and kissed me once behind a
+door; but it was your cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me,
+that I was in love with." Her glance swept the horse-shoe curve of
+boxes. "Ah, how this brings it all back to me--I see everybody here in
 knickerbockers and pantalettes," she said, with her trailing slightly
 foreign accent, her eyes returning to his face.
 
 Agreeable as their expression was, the young man was shocked that they
 should reflect so unseemly a picture of the august tribunal before
-which, at that very moment, her case was being tried.  Nothing could be
-in worse taste than misplaced flippancy; and he answered somewhat
-stiffly:  "Yes, you have been away a very long time."
+which, at that very moment, her case was being tried. Nothing could
+be in worse taste than misplaced flippancy; and he answered somewhat
+stiffly: "Yes, you have been away a very long time."
 
-"Oh, centuries and centuries; so long," she said, "that I'm sure I'm
-dead and buried, and this dear old place is heaven;" which, for reasons
-he could not define, struck Newland Archer as an even more
+"Oh, centuries and centuries; so long," she said, "that I'm sure
+I'm dead and buried, and this dear old place is heaven;" which, for
+reasons he could not define, struck Newland Archer as an even more
 disrespectful way of describing New York society.
 
 
 
+
 III.
 
+
 It invariably happened in the same way.
 
 Mrs. Julius Beaufort, on the night of her annual ball, never failed to
 appear at the Opera; indeed, she always gave her ball on an Opera night
-in order to emphasise her complete superiority to household cares, and
-her possession of a staff of servants competent to organise every
+in order to emphasise her complete superiority to household cares,
+and her possession of a staff of servants competent to organise every
 detail of the entertainment in her absence.
 
-The Beauforts' house was one of the few in New York that possessed a
-ball-room (it antedated even Mrs. Manson Mingott's and the Headly
+The Beauforts' house was one of the few in New York that possessed
+a ball-room (it antedated even Mrs. Manson Mingott's and the Headly
 Chiverses'); and at a time when it was beginning to be thought
 "provincial" to put a "crash" over the drawing-room floor and move the
 furniture upstairs, the possession of a ball-room that was used for no
@@ -520,22 +491,21 @@ and its chandelier in a bag; this undoubted superiority was felt to
 compensate for whatever was regrettable in the Beaufort past.
 
 Mrs. Archer, who was fond of coining her social philosophy into axioms,
-had once said:  "We all have our pet common people--" and though the
+had once said: "We all have our pet common people--" and though the
 phrase was a daring one, its truth was secretly admitted in many an
-exclusive bosom.  But the Beauforts were not exactly common; some
-people said they were even worse.  Mrs. Beaufort belonged indeed to one
-of America's most honoured families; she had been the lovely Regina
-Dallas (of the South Carolina branch), a penniless beauty introduced to
-New York society by her cousin, the imprudent Medora Manson, who was
-always doing the wrong thing from the right motive.  When one was
-related to the Mansons and the Rushworths one had a "droit de cite" (as
-Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who had frequented the Tuileries, called it) in
-New York society; but did one not forfeit it in marrying Julius
-Beaufort?
-
-The question was: who was Beaufort?  He passed for an Englishman, was
-agreeable, handsome, ill-tempered, hospitable and witty.  He had come
-to America with letters of recommendation from old Mrs. Manson
+exclusive bosom. But the Beauforts were not exactly common; some people
+said they were even worse. Mrs. Beaufort belonged indeed to one of
+America's most honoured families; she had been the lovely Regina Dallas
+(of the South Carolina branch), a penniless beauty introduced to New
+York society by her cousin, the imprudent Medora Manson, who was always
+doing the wrong thing from the right motive. When one was related
+to the Mansons and the Rushworths one had a "_droit de cité_" (as Mr.
+Sillerton Jackson, who had frequented the Tuileries, called it) in New
+York society; but did one not forfeit it in marrying Julius Beaufort?
+
+The question was: who was Beaufort? He passed for an Englishman,
+was agreeable, handsome, ill-tempered, hospitable and witty. He had
+come to America with letters of recommendation from old Mrs. Manson
 Mingott's English son-in-law, the banker, and had speedily made himself
 an important position in the world of affairs; but his habits were
 dissipated, his tongue was bitter, his antecedents were mysterious; and
@@ -543,34 +513,34 @@ when Medora Manson announced her cousin's engagement to him it was felt
 to be one more act of folly in poor Medora's long record of imprudences.
 
 But folly is as often justified of her children as wisdom, and two
-years after young Mrs. Beaufort's marriage it was admitted that she had
-the most distinguished house in New York.  No one knew exactly how the
-miracle was accomplished.  She was indolent, passive, the caustic even
-called her dull; but dressed like an idol, hung with pearls, growing
-younger and blonder and more beautiful each year, she throned in Mr.
-Beaufort's heavy brown-stone palace, and drew all the world there
-without lifting her jewelled little finger.  The knowing people said it
-was Beaufort himself who trained the servants, taught the chef new
-dishes, told the gardeners what hot-house flowers to grow for the
-dinner-table and the drawing-rooms, selected the guests, brewed the
-after-dinner punch and dictated the little notes his wife wrote to her
-friends.  If he did, these domestic activities were privately
+years after young Mrs. Beaufort's marriage it was admitted that she
+had the most distinguished house in New York. No one knew exactly how
+the miracle was accomplished. She was indolent, passive, the caustic
+even called her dull; but dressed like an idol, hung with pearls,
+growing younger and blonder and more beautiful each year, she throned
+in Mr. Beaufort's heavy brown-stone palace, and drew all the world
+there without lifting her jewelled little finger. The knowing people
+said it was Beaufort himself who trained the servants, taught the chef
+new dishes, told the gardeners what hot-house flowers to grow for
+the dinner-table and the drawing-rooms, selected the guests, brewed
+the after-dinner punch and dictated the little notes his wife wrote
+to her friends. If he did, these domestic activities were privately
 performed, and he presented to the world the appearance of a careless
 and hospitable millionaire strolling into his own drawing-room with the
-detachment of an invited guest, and saying:  "My wife's gloxinias are a
-marvel, aren't they?  I believe she gets them out from Kew."
+detachment of an invited guest, and saying: "My wife's gloxinias are a
+marvel, aren't they? I believe she gets them out from Kew."
 
 Mr. Beaufort's secret, people were agreed, was the way he carried
-things off.  It was all very well to whisper that he had been "helped"
+things off. It was all very well to whisper that he had been "helped"
 to leave England by the international banking-house in which he had
 been employed; he carried off that rumour as easily as the rest--though
 New York's business conscience was no less sensitive than its moral
 standard--he carried everything before him, and all New York into his
-drawing-rooms, and for over twenty years now people had said they were
-"going to the Beauforts'" with the same tone of security as if they had
-said they were going to Mrs. Manson Mingott's, and with the added
-satisfaction of knowing they would get hot canvas-back ducks and
-vintage wines, instead of tepid Veuve Clicquot without a year and
+drawing-rooms, and for over twenty years now people had said they
+were "going to the Beauforts'" with the same tone of security as if
+they had said they were going to Mrs. Manson Mingott's, and with the
+added satisfaction of knowing they would get hot canvas-back ducks
+and vintage wines, instead of tepid Veuve Clicquot without a year and
 warmed-up croquettes from Philadelphia.
 
 Mrs. Beaufort, then, had as usual appeared in her box just before the
@@ -579,20 +549,20 @@ act, drew her opera cloak about her lovely shoulders, and disappeared,
 New York knew that meant that half an hour later the ball would begin.
 
 The Beaufort house was one that New Yorkers were proud to show to
-foreigners, especially on the night of the annual ball.  The Beauforts
-had been among the first people in New York to own their own red velvet
-carpet and have it rolled down the steps by their own footmen, under
-their own awning, instead of hiring it with the supper and the
-ball-room chairs.  They had also inaugurated the custom of letting the
+foreigners, especially on the night of the annual ball. The Beauforts
+had been among the first people in New York to own their own red
+velvet carpet and have it rolled down the steps by their own footmen,
+under their own awning, instead of hiring it with the supper and the
+ball-room chairs. They had also inaugurated the custom of letting the
 ladies take their cloaks off in the hall, instead of shuffling up to
 the hostess's bedroom and recurling their hair with the aid of the
 gas-burner; Beaufort was understood to have said that he supposed all
 his wife's friends had maids who saw to it that they were properly
-coiffees when they left home.
+_coiffées_ when they left home.
 
 Then the house had been boldly planned with a ball-room, so that,
-instead of squeezing through a narrow passage to get to it (as at the
-Chiverses') one marched solemnly down a vista of enfiladed
+instead of squeezing through a narrow passage to get to it (as at
+the Chiverses') one marched solemnly down a vista of enfiladed
 drawing-rooms (the sea-green, the crimson and the bouton d'or), seeing
 from afar the many-candled lustres reflected in the polished parquetry,
 and beyond that the depths of a conservatory where camellias and
@@ -600,54 +570,54 @@ tree-ferns arched their costly foliage over seats of black and gold
 bamboo.
 
 Newland Archer, as became a young man of his position, strolled in
-somewhat late.  He had left his overcoat with the silk-stockinged
+somewhat late. He had left his overcoat with the silk-stockinged
 footmen (the stockings were one of Beaufort's few fatuities), had
 dawdled a while in the library hung with Spanish leather and furnished
-with Buhl and malachite, where a few men were chatting and putting on
-their dancing-gloves, and had finally joined the line of guests whom
-Mrs. Beaufort was receiving on the threshold of the crimson
+with Buhl and malachite, where a few men were chatting and putting
+on their dancing-gloves, and had finally joined the line of guests
+whom Mrs. Beaufort was receiving on the threshold of the crimson
 drawing-room.
 
-Archer was distinctly nervous.  He had not gone back to his club after
+Archer was distinctly nervous. He had not gone back to his club after
 the Opera (as the young bloods usually did), but, the night being fine,
 had walked for some distance up Fifth Avenue before turning back in the
-direction of the Beauforts' house.  He was definitely afraid that the
+direction of the Beauforts' house. He was definitely afraid that the
 Mingotts might be going too far; that, in fact, they might have Granny
 Mingott's orders to bring the Countess Olenska to the ball.
 
-From the tone of the club box he had perceived how grave a mistake that
-would be; and, though he was more than ever determined to "see the
-thing through," he felt less chivalrously eager to champion his
+From the tone of the club box he had perceived how grave a mistake
+that would be; and, though he was more than ever determined to "see
+the thing through," he felt less chivalrously eager to champion his
 betrothed's cousin than before their brief talk at the Opera.
 
 Wandering on to the bouton d'or drawing-room (where Beaufort had had
 the audacity to hang "Love Victorious," the much-discussed nude of
 Bouguereau) Archer found Mrs. Welland and her daughter standing near
-the ball-room door.  Couples were already gliding over the floor
-beyond: the light of the wax candles fell on revolving tulle skirts, on
-girlish heads wreathed with modest blossoms, on the dashing aigrettes
-and ornaments of the young married women's coiffures, and on the
-glitter of highly glazed shirt-fronts and fresh glace gloves.
+the ball-room door. Couples were already gliding over the floor beyond:
+the light of the wax candles fell on revolving tulle skirts, on girlish
+heads wreathed with modest blossoms, on the dashing aigrettes and
+ornaments of the young married women's coiffures, and on the glitter of
+highly glazed shirt-fronts and fresh _glacé_ gloves.
 
 Miss Welland, evidently about to join the dancers, hung on the
 threshold, her lilies-of-the-valley in her hand (she carried no other
 bouquet), her face a little pale, her eyes burning with a candid
-excitement.  A group of young men and girls were gathered about her,
-and there was much hand-clasping, laughing and pleasantry on which Mrs.
-Welland, standing slightly apart, shed the beam of a qualified
-approval.  It was evident that Miss Welland was in the act of
-announcing her engagement, while her mother affected the air of
-parental reluctance considered suitable to the occasion.
-
-Archer paused a moment.  It was at his express wish that the
+excitement. A group of young men and girls were gathered about her,
+and there was much hand-clasping, laughing and pleasantry on which
+Mrs. Welland, standing slightly apart, shed the beam of a qualified
+approval. It was evident that Miss Welland was in the act of announcing
+her engagement, while her mother affected the air of parental
+reluctance considered suitable to the occasion.
+
+Archer paused a moment. It was at his express wish that the
 announcement had been made, and yet it was not thus that he would have
-wished to have his happiness known.  To proclaim it in the heat and
+wished to have his happiness known. To proclaim it in the heat and
 noise of a crowded ball-room was to rob it of the fine bloom of privacy
-which should belong to things nearest the heart.  His joy was so deep
+which should belong to things nearest the heart. His joy was so deep
 that this blurring of the surface left its essence untouched; but he
-would have liked to keep the surface pure too.  It was something of a
-satisfaction to find that May Welland shared this feeling.  Her eyes
-fled to his beseechingly, and their look said:  "Remember, we're doing
+would have liked to keep the surface pure too. It was something of a
+satisfaction to find that May Welland shared this feeling. Her eyes
+fled to his beseechingly, and their look said: "Remember, we're doing
 this because it's right."
 
 No appeal could have found a more immediate response in Archer's
@@ -660,11 +630,11 @@ into the middle of the ball-room floor and put his arm about her waist.
 "Now we shan't have to talk," he said, smiling into her candid eyes, as
 they floated away on the soft waves of the Blue Danube.
 
-She made no answer.  Her lips trembled into a smile, but the eyes
+She made no answer. Her lips trembled into a smile, but the eyes
 remained distant and serious, as if bent on some ineffable vision.
 "Dear," Archer whispered, pressing her to him: it was borne in on him
 that the first hours of being engaged, even if spent in a ball-room,
-had in them something grave and sacramental.  What a new life it was
+had in them something grave and sacramental. What a new life it was
 going to be, with this whiteness, radiance, goodness at one's side!
 
 The dance over, the two, as became an affianced couple, wandered into
@@ -673,62 +643,62 @@ camellias Newland pressed her gloved hand to his lips.
 
 "You see I did as you asked me to," she said.
 
-"Yes: I couldn't wait," he answered smiling.  After a moment he added:
+"Yes: I couldn't wait," he answered smiling. After a moment he added:
 "Only I wish it hadn't had to be at a ball."
 
-"Yes, I know."  She met his glance comprehendingly.  "But after
-all--even here we're alone together, aren't we?"
+"Yes, I know." She met his glance comprehendingly. "But after all--even
+here we're alone together, aren't we?"
 
 "Oh, dearest--always!" Archer cried.
 
-Evidently she was always going to understand; she was always going to
-say the right thing.  The discovery made the cup of his bliss overflow,
-and he went on gaily:  "The worst of it is that I want to kiss you and
-I can't."  As he spoke he took a swift glance about the conservatory,
-assured himself of their momentary privacy, and catching her to him
-laid a fugitive pressure on her lips.  To counteract the audacity of
-this proceeding he led her to a bamboo sofa in a less secluded part of
-the conservatory, and sitting down beside her broke a
-lily-of-the-valley from her bouquet.  She sat silent, and the world lay
+Evidently she was always going to understand; she was always going
+to say the right thing. The discovery made the cup of his bliss
+overflow, and he went on gaily: "The worst of it is that I want to
+kiss you and I can't." As he spoke he took a swift glance about the
+conservatory, assured himself of their momentary privacy, and catching
+her to him laid a fugitive pressure on her lips. To counteract the
+audacity of this proceeding he led her to a bamboo sofa in a less
+secluded part of the conservatory, and sitting down beside her broke a
+lily-of-the-valley from her bouquet. She sat silent, and the world lay
 like a sunlit valley at their feet.
 
 "Did you tell my cousin Ellen?" she asked presently, as if she spoke
 through a dream.
 
-He roused himself, and remembered that he had not done so.  Some
+He roused himself, and remembered that he had not done so. Some
 invincible repugnance to speak of such things to the strange foreign
 woman had checked the words on his lips.
 
 "No--I hadn't the chance after all," he said, fibbing hastily.
 
-"Ah."  She looked disappointed, but gently resolved on gaining her
-point.  "You must, then, for I didn't either; and I shouldn't like her
+"Ah." She looked disappointed, but gently resolved on gaining her
+point. "You must, then, for I didn't either; and I shouldn't like her
 to think--"
 
-"Of course not.  But aren't you, after all, the person to do it?"
+"Of course not. But aren't you, after all, the person to do it?"
 
-She pondered on this.  "If I'd done it at the right time, yes: but now
-that there's been a delay I think you must explain that I'd asked you
-to tell her at the Opera, before our speaking about it to everybody
-here.  Otherwise she might think I had forgotten her.  You see, she's
-one of the family, and she's been away so long that she's
+She pondered on this. "If I'd done it at the right time, yes: but
+now that there's been a delay I think you must explain that I'd
+asked you to tell her at the Opera, before our speaking about it to
+everybody here. Otherwise she might think I had forgotten her. You
+see, she's one of the family, and she's been away so long that she's
 rather--sensitive."
 
-Archer looked at her glowingly.  "Dear and great angel!  Of course I'll
-tell her."  He glanced a trifle apprehensively toward the crowded
-ball-room.  "But I haven't seen her yet.  Has she come?"
+Archer looked at her glowingly. "Dear and great angel! Of course I'll
+tell her." He glanced a trifle apprehensively toward the crowded
+ball-room. "But I haven't seen her yet. Has she come?"
 
 "No; at the last minute she decided not to."
 
 "At the last minute?" he echoed, betraying his surprise that she should
 ever have considered the alternative possible.
 
-"Yes.  She's awfully fond of dancing," the young girl answered simply.
+"Yes. She's awfully fond of dancing," the young girl answered simply.
 "But suddenly she made up her mind that her dress wasn't smart enough
 for a ball, though we thought it so lovely; and so my aunt had to take
 her home."
 
-"Oh, well--" said Archer with happy indifference.  Nothing about his
+"Oh, well--" said Archer with happy indifference. Nothing about his
 betrothed pleased him more than her resolute determination to carry to
 its utmost limit that ritual of ignoring the "unpleasant" in which they
 had both been brought up.
@@ -740,53 +710,54 @@ Olenska's reputation."
 
 
 
+
 IV.
 
+
 In the course of the next day the first of the usual betrothal visits
-were exchanged.  The New York ritual was precise and inflexible in such
+were exchanged. The New York ritual was precise and inflexible in such
 matters; and in conformity with it Newland Archer first went with his
 mother and sister to call on Mrs. Welland, after which he and Mrs.
 Welland and May drove out to old Mrs. Manson Mingott's to receive that
 venerable ancestress's blessing.
 
 A visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott was always an amusing episode to the
-young man.  The house in itself was already an historic document,
+young man. The house in itself was already an historic document,
 though not, of course, as venerable as certain other old family houses
-in University Place and lower Fifth Avenue.  Those were of the purest
+in University Place and lower Fifth Avenue. Those were of the purest
 1830, with a grim harmony of cabbage-rose-garlanded carpets, rosewood
 consoles, round-arched fire-places with black marble mantels, and
 immense glazed book-cases of mahogany; whereas old Mrs. Mingott, who
-had built her house later, had bodily cast out the massive furniture of
-her prime, and mingled with the Mingott heirlooms the frivolous
-upholstery of the Second Empire.  It was her habit to sit in a window
-of her sitting-room on the ground floor, as if watching calmly for life
-and fashion to flow northward to her solitary doors.  She seemed in no
-hurry to have them come, for her patience was equalled by her
-confidence.  She was sure that presently the hoardings, the quarries,
+had built her house later, had bodily cast out the massive furniture
+of her prime, and mingled with the Mingott heirlooms the frivolous
+upholstery of the Second Empire. It was her habit to sit in a window
+of her sitting-room on the ground floor, as if watching calmly for
+life and fashion to flow northward to her solitary doors. She seemed
+in no hurry to have them come, for her patience was equalled by her
+confidence. She was sure that presently the hoardings, the quarries,
 the one-story saloons, the wooden green-houses in ragged gardens, and
-the rocks from which goats surveyed the scene, would vanish before the
-advance of residences as stately as her own--perhaps (for she was an
-impartial woman) even statelier; and that the cobble-stones over which
-the old clattering omnibuses bumped would be replaced by smooth
-asphalt, such as people reported having seen in Paris.  Meanwhile, as
-every one she cared to see came to HER (and she could fill her rooms as
-easily as the Beauforts, and without adding a single item to the menu
-of her suppers), she did not suffer from her geographic isolation.
+the rocks from which goats surveyed the scene, would vanish before
+the advance of residences as stately as her own--perhaps (for she was
+an impartial woman) even statelier; and that the cobble-stones over
+which the old clattering omnibuses bumped would be replaced by smooth
+asphalt, such as people reported having seen in Paris. Meanwhile, as
+every one she cared to see came to _her_ (and she could fill her rooms
+as easily as the Beauforts, and without adding a single item to the
+menu of her suppers), she did not suffer from her geographic isolation.
 
 The immense accretion of flesh which had descended on her in middle
-life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a plump
-active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something
-as vast and august as a natural phenomenon.  She had accepted this
-submergence as philosophically as all her other trials, and now, in
-extreme old age, was rewarded by presenting to her mirror an almost
+life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a
+plump active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into
+something as vast and august as a natural phenomenon. She had accepted
+this submergence as philosophically as all her other trials, and now,
+in extreme old age, was rewarded by presenting to her mirror an almost
 unwrinkled expanse of firm pink and white flesh, in the centre of which
-the traces of a small face survived as if awaiting excavation.  A
-flight of smooth double chins led down to the dizzy depths of a
-still-snowy bosom veiled in snowy muslins that were held in place by a
-miniature portrait of the late Mr. Mingott; and around and below, wave
-after wave of black silk surged away over the edges of a capacious
-armchair, with two tiny white hands poised like gulls on the surface of
-the billows.
+the traces of a small face survived as if awaiting excavation. A flight
+of smooth double chins led down to the dizzy depths of a still-snowy
+bosom veiled in snowy muslins that were held in place by a miniature
+portrait of the late Mr. Mingott; and around and below, wave after wave
+of black silk surged away over the edges of a capacious armchair, with
+two tiny white hands poised like gulls on the surface of the billows.
 
 The burden of Mrs. Manson Mingott's flesh had long since made it
 impossible for her to go up and down stairs, and with characteristic
@@ -794,18 +765,18 @@ independence she had made her reception rooms upstairs and established
 herself (in flagrant violation of all the New York proprieties) on the
 ground floor of her house; so that, as you sat in her sitting-room
 window with her, you caught (through a door that was always open, and a
-looped-back yellow damask portiere) the unexpected vista of a bedroom
+looped-back yellow damask portière) the unexpected vista of a bedroom
 with a huge low bed upholstered like a sofa, and a toilet-table with
 frivolous lace flounces and a gilt-framed mirror.
 
 Her visitors were startled and fascinated by the foreignness of this
 arrangement, which recalled scenes in French fiction, and architectural
 incentives to immorality such as the simple American had never dreamed
-of.  That was how women with lovers lived in the wicked old societies,
+of. That was how women with lovers lived in the wicked old societies,
 in apartments with all the rooms on one floor, and all the indecent
-propinquities that their novels described.  It amused Newland Archer
-(who had secretly situated the love-scenes of "Monsieur de Camors" in
-Mrs. Mingott's bedroom) to picture her blameless life led in the
+propinquities that their novels described. It amused Newland Archer
+(who had secretly situated the love-scenes of "Monsieur de Camors"
+in Mrs. Mingott's bedroom) to picture her blameless life led in the
 stage-setting of adultery; but he said to himself, with considerable
 admiration, that if a lover had been what she wanted, the intrepid
 woman would have had him too.
@@ -814,43 +785,43 @@ To the general relief the Countess Olenska was not present in her
 grandmother's drawing-room during the visit of the betrothed couple.
 Mrs. Mingott said she had gone out; which, on a day of such glaring
 sunlight, and at the "shopping hour," seemed in itself an indelicate
-thing for a compromised woman to do.  But at any rate it spared them
-the embarrassment of her presence, and the faint shadow that her
-unhappy past might seem to shed on their radiant future.  The visit
-went off successfully, as was to have been expected.  Old Mrs. Mingott
-was delighted with the engagement, which, being long foreseen by
-watchful relatives, had been carefully passed upon in family council;
-and the engagement ring, a large thick sapphire set in invisible claws,
-met with her unqualified admiration.
+thing for a compromised woman to do. But at any rate it spared them the
+embarrassment of her presence, and the faint shadow that her unhappy
+past might seem to shed on their radiant future. The visit went off
+successfully, as was to have been expected. Old Mrs. Mingott was
+delighted with the engagement, which, being long foreseen by watchful
+relatives, had been carefully passed upon in family council; and the
+engagement ring, a large thick sapphire set in invisible claws, met
+with her unqualified admiration.
 
 "It's the new setting: of course it shows the stone beautifully, but it
 looks a little bare to old-fashioned eyes," Mrs. Welland had explained,
 with a conciliatory side-glance at her future son-in-law.
 
-"Old-fashioned eyes?  I hope you don't mean mine, my dear?  I like all
+"Old-fashioned eyes? I hope you don't mean mine, my dear? I like all
 the novelties," said the ancestress, lifting the stone to her small
-bright orbs, which no glasses had ever disfigured.  "Very handsome,"
-she added, returning the jewel; "very liberal.  In my time a cameo set
-in pearls was thought sufficient.  But it's the hand that sets off the
+bright orbs, which no glasses had ever disfigured. "Very handsome,"
+she added, returning the jewel; "very liberal. In my time a cameo set
+in pearls was thought sufficient. But it's the hand that sets off the
 ring, isn't it, my dear Mr. Archer?" and she waved one of her tiny
 hands, with small pointed nails and rolls of aged fat encircling the
-wrist like ivory bracelets.  "Mine was modelled in Rome by the great
-Ferrigiani.  You should have May's done: no doubt he'll have it done,
-my child.  Her hand is large--it's these modern sports that spread the
+wrist like ivory bracelets. "Mine was modelled in Rome by the great
+Ferrigiani. You should have May's done: no doubt he'll have it done,
+my child. Her hand is large--it's these modern sports that spread the
 joints--but the skin is white.--And when's the wedding to be?" she
 broke off, fixing her eyes on Archer's face.
 
 "Oh--" Mrs. Welland murmured, while the young man, smiling at his
-betrothed, replied:  "As soon as ever it can, if only you'll back me
-up, Mrs. Mingott."
+betrothed, replied: "As soon as ever it can, if only you'll back me up,
+Mrs. Mingott."
 
 "We must give them time to get to know each other a little better,
 mamma," Mrs. Welland interposed, with the proper affectation of
-reluctance; to which the ancestress rejoined:  "Know each other?
-Fiddlesticks!  Everybody in New York has always known everybody.  Let
-the young man have his way, my dear; don't wait till the bubble's off
-the wine.  Marry them before Lent; I may catch pneumonia any winter
-now, and I want to give the wedding-breakfast."
+reluctance; to which the ancestress rejoined: "Know each other?
+Fiddlesticks! Everybody in New York has always known everybody. Let the
+young man have his way, my dear; don't wait till the bubble's off the
+wine. Marry them before Lent; I may catch pneumonia any winter now, and
+I want to give the wedding-breakfast."
 
 These successive statements were received with the proper expressions
 of amusement, incredulity and gratitude; and the visit was breaking up
@@ -859,46 +830,46 @@ Olenska, who entered in bonnet and mantle followed by the unexpected
 figure of Julius Beaufort.
 
 There was a cousinly murmur of pleasure between the ladies, and Mrs.
-Mingott held out Ferrigiani's model to the banker.  "Ha!  Beaufort,
-this is a rare favour!" (She had an odd foreign way of addressing men
-by their surnames.)
+Mingott held out Ferrigiani's model to the banker. "Ha! Beaufort, this
+is a rare favour!" (She had an odd foreign way of addressing men by
+their surnames.)
 
-"Thanks.  I wish it might happen oftener," said the visitor in his easy
-arrogant way.  "I'm generally so tied down; but I met the Countess
-Ellen in Madison Square, and she was good enough to let me walk home
-with her."
+"Thanks. I wish it might happen oftener," said the visitor in his easy
+arrogant way. "I'm generally so tied down; but I met the Countess Ellen
+in Madison Square, and she was good enough to let me walk home with
+her."
 
 "Ah--I hope the house will be gayer, now that Ellen's here!" cried Mrs.
-Mingott with a glorious effrontery.  "Sit down--sit down, Beaufort:
-push up the yellow armchair; now I've got you I want a good gossip.  I
-hear your ball was magnificent; and I understand you invited Mrs.
-Lemuel Struthers?  Well--I've a curiosity to see the woman myself."
+Mingott with a glorious effrontery. "Sit down--sit down, Beaufort: push
+up the yellow armchair; now I've got you I want a good gossip. I hear
+your ball was magnificent; and I understand you invited Mrs. Lemuel
+Struthers? Well--I've a curiosity to see the woman myself."
 
 She had forgotten her relatives, who were drifting out into the hall
-under Ellen Olenska's guidance.  Old Mrs. Mingott had always professed
-a great admiration for Julius Beaufort, and there was a kind of kinship
-in their cool domineering way and their short-cuts through the
-conventions.  Now she was eagerly curious to know what had decided the
+under Ellen Olenska's guidance. Old Mrs. Mingott had always professed
+a great admiration for Julius Beaufort, and there was a kind of
+kinship in their cool domineering way and their short-cuts through the
+conventions. Now she was eagerly curious to know what had decided the
 Beauforts to invite (for the first time) Mrs. Lemuel Struthers, the
 widow of Struthers's Shoe-polish, who had returned the previous year
 from a long initiatory sojourn in Europe to lay siege to the tight
-little citadel of New York.  "Of course if you and Regina invite her
-the thing is settled.  Well, we need new blood and new money--and I
-hear she's still very good-looking," the carnivorous old lady declared.
+little citadel of New York. "Of course if you and Regina invite her the
+thing is settled. Well, we need new blood and new money--and I hear
+she's still very good-looking," the carnivorous old lady declared.
 
 In the hall, while Mrs. Welland and May drew on their furs, Archer saw
 that the Countess Olenska was looking at him with a faintly questioning
 smile.
 
 "Of course you know already--about May and me," he said, answering her
-look with a shy laugh.  "She scolded me for not giving you the news
+look with a shy laugh. "She scolded me for not giving you the news
 last night at the Opera: I had her orders to tell you that we were
 engaged--but I couldn't, in that crowd."
 
 The smile passed from Countess Olenska's eyes to her lips: she looked
-younger, more like the bold brown Ellen Mingott of his boyhood.  "Of
-course I know; yes.  And I'm so glad.  But one doesn't tell such things
-first in a crowd."  The ladies were on the threshold and she held out
+younger, more like the bold brown Ellen Mingott of his boyhood. "Of
+course I know; yes. And I'm so glad. But one doesn't tell such things
+first in a crowd." The ladies were on the threshold and she held out
 her hand.
 
 "Good-bye; come and see me some day," she said, still looking at Archer.
@@ -906,65 +877,65 @@ her hand.
 In the carriage, on the way down Fifth Avenue, they talked pointedly of
 Mrs. Mingott, of her age, her spirit, and all her wonderful attributes.
 No one alluded to Ellen Olenska; but Archer knew that Mrs. Welland was
-thinking:  "It's a mistake for Ellen to be seen, the very day after her
-arrival, parading up Fifth Avenue at the crowded hour with Julius
-Beaufort--" and the young man himself mentally added:  "And she ought
-to know that a man who's just engaged doesn't spend his time calling on
-married women.  But I daresay in the set she's lived in they do--they
+thinking: "It's a mistake for Ellen to be seen, the very day after
+her arrival, parading up Fifth Avenue at the crowded hour with Julius
+Beaufort--" and the young man himself mentally added: "And she ought to
+know that a man who's just engaged doesn't spend his time calling on
+married women. But I daresay in the set she's lived in they do--they
 never do anything else." And, in spite of the cosmopolitan views on
 which he prided himself, he thanked heaven that he was a New Yorker,
 and about to ally himself with one of his own kind.
 
 
 
+
 V.
 
+
 The next evening old Mr. Sillerton Jackson came to dine with the
 Archers.
 
 Mrs. Archer was a shy woman and shrank from society; but she liked to
-be well-informed as to its doings.  Her old friend Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson applied to the investigation of his friends' affairs the
-patience of a collector and the science of a naturalist; and his
-sister, Miss Sophy Jackson, who lived with him, and was entertained by
-all the people who could not secure her much-sought-after brother,
-brought home bits of minor gossip that filled out usefully the gaps in
-his picture.
-
-Therefore, whenever anything happened that Mrs. Archer wanted to know
-about, she asked Mr. Jackson to dine; and as she honoured few people
-with her invitations, and as she and her daughter Janey were an
+be well-informed as to its doings. Her old friend Mr. Sillerton Jackson
+applied to the investigation of his friends' affairs the patience of a
+collector and the science of a naturalist; and his sister, Miss Sophy
+Jackson, who lived with him, and was entertained by all the people who
+could not secure her much-sought-after brother, brought home bits of
+minor gossip that filled out usefully the gaps in his picture.
+
+Therefore, whenever anything happened that Mrs. Archer wanted to
+know about, she asked Mr. Jackson to dine; and as she honoured few
+people with her invitations, and as she and her daughter Janey were an
 excellent audience, Mr. Jackson usually came himself instead of sending
-his sister.  If he could have dictated all the conditions, he would
-have chosen the evenings when Newland was out; not because the young
-man was uncongenial to him (the two got on capitally at their club) but
-because the old anecdotist sometimes felt, on Newland's part, a
-tendency to weigh his evidence that the ladies of the family never
-showed.
+his sister. If he could have dictated all the conditions, he would have
+chosen the evenings when Newland was out; not because the young man was
+uncongenial to him (the two got on capitally at their club) but because
+the old anecdotist sometimes felt, on Newland's part, a tendency to
+weigh his evidence that the ladies of the family never showed.
 
 Mr. Jackson, if perfection had been attainable on earth, would also
-have asked that Mrs. Archer's food should be a little better.  But then
+have asked that Mrs. Archer's food should be a little better. But then
 New York, as far back as the mind of man could travel, had been divided
 into the two great fundamental groups of the Mingotts and Mansons and
-all their clan, who cared about eating and clothes and money, and the
-Archer-Newland-van-der-Luyden tribe, who were devoted to travel,
+all their clan, who cared about eating and clothes and money, and
+the Archer-Newland-van-der-Luyden tribe, who were devoted to travel,
 horticulture and the best fiction, and looked down on the grosser forms
 of pleasure.
 
-You couldn't have everything, after all.  If you dined with the Lovell
+You couldn't have everything, after all. If you dined with the Lovell
 Mingotts you got canvas-back and terrapin and vintage wines; at Adeline
-Archer's you could talk about Alpine scenery and "The Marble Faun"; and
-luckily the Archer Madeira had gone round the Cape.  Therefore when a
-friendly summons came from Mrs. Archer, Mr. Jackson, who was a true
-eclectic, would usually say to his sister:  "I've been a little gouty
+Archer's you could talk about Alpine scenery and "The Marble Faun";
+and luckily the Archer Madeira had gone round the Cape. Therefore when
+a friendly summons came from Mrs. Archer, Mr. Jackson, who was a true
+eclectic, would usually say to his sister: "I've been a little gouty
 since my last dinner at the Lovell Mingotts'--it will do me good to
 diet at Adeline's."
 
 Mrs. Archer, who had long been a widow, lived with her son and daughter
-in West Twenty-eighth Street.  An upper floor was dedicated to Newland,
-and the two women squeezed themselves into narrower quarters below.  In
-an unclouded harmony of tastes and interests they cultivated ferns in
-Wardian cases, made macrame lace and wool embroidery on linen,
+in West Twenty-eighth Street. An upper floor was dedicated to Newland,
+and the two women squeezed themselves into narrower quarters below.
+In an unclouded harmony of tastes and interests they cultivated ferns
+in Wardian cases, made _macramé_ lace and wool embroidery on linen,
 collected American revolutionary glazed ware, subscribed to "Good
 Words," and read Ouida's novels for the sake of the Italian atmosphere.
 (They preferred those about peasant life, because of the descriptions
@@ -973,23 +944,23 @@ novels about people in society, whose motives and habits were more
 comprehensible, spoke severely of Dickens, who "had never drawn a
 gentleman," and considered Thackeray less at home in the great world
 than Bulwer--who, however, was beginning to be thought old-fashioned.)
-Mrs. and Miss Archer were both great lovers of scenery.  It was what
-they principally sought and admired on their occasional travels abroad;
-considering architecture and painting as subjects for men, and chiefly
-for learned persons who read Ruskin.  Mrs. Archer had been born a
-Newland, and mother and daughter, who were as like as sisters, were
-both, as people said, "true Newlands"; tall, pale, and slightly
+Mrs. and Miss Archer were both great lovers of scenery. It was what
+they principally sought and admired on their occasional travels
+abroad; considering architecture and painting as subjects for men,
+and chiefly for learned persons who read Ruskin. Mrs. Archer had been
+born a Newland, and mother and daughter, who were as like as sisters,
+were both, as people said, "true Newlands"; tall, pale, and slightly
 round-shouldered, with long noses, sweet smiles and a kind of drooping
-distinction like that in certain faded Reynolds portraits.  Their
+distinction like that in certain faded Reynolds portraits. Their
 physical resemblance would have been complete if an elderly embonpoint
 had not stretched Mrs. Archer's black brocade, while Miss Archer's
 brown and purple poplins hung, as the years went on, more and more
 slackly on her virgin frame.
 
 Mentally, the likeness between them, as Newland was aware, was less
-complete than their identical mannerisms often made it appear.  The
-long habit of living together in mutually dependent intimacy had given
-them the same vocabulary, and the same habit of beginning their phrases
+complete than their identical mannerisms often made it appear. The long
+habit of living together in mutually dependent intimacy had given them
+the same vocabulary, and the same habit of beginning their phrases
 "Mother thinks" or "Janey thinks," according as one or the other wished
 to advance an opinion of her own; but in reality, while Mrs. Archer's
 serene unimaginativeness rested easily in the accepted and familiar,
@@ -999,7 +970,7 @@ springs of suppressed romance.
 Mother and daughter adored each other and revered their son and
 brother; and Archer loved them with a tenderness made compunctious and
 uncritical by the sense of their exaggerated admiration, and by his
-secret satisfaction in it.  After all, he thought it a good thing for a
+secret satisfaction in it. After all, he thought it a good thing for a
 man to have his authority respected in his own house, even if his sense
 of humour sometimes made him question the force of his mandate.
 
@@ -1008,7 +979,7 @@ rather have had him dine out; but he had his own reasons for not doing
 so.
 
 Of course old Jackson wanted to talk about Ellen Olenska, and of course
-Mrs. Archer and Janey wanted to hear what he had to tell.  All three
+Mrs. Archer and Janey wanted to hear what he had to tell. All three
 would be slightly embarrassed by Newland's presence, now that his
 prospective relation to the Mingott clan had been made known; and the
 young man waited with an amused curiosity to see how they would turn
@@ -1016,69 +987,69 @@ the difficulty.
 
 They began, obliquely, by talking about Mrs. Lemuel Struthers.
 
-"It's a pity the Beauforts asked her," Mrs. Archer said gently.  "But
-then Regina always does what he tells her; and BEAUFORT--"
+"It's a pity the Beauforts asked her," Mrs. Archer said gently. "But
+then Regina always does what he tells her; and _Beaufort_--"
 
-"Certain nuances escape Beaufort," said Mr. Jackson, cautiously
+"Certain _nuances_ escape Beaufort," said Mr. Jackson, cautiously
 inspecting the broiled shad, and wondering for the thousandth time why
-Mrs. Archer's cook always burnt the roe to a cinder. (Newland, who had
-long shared his wonder, could always detect it in the older man's
+Mrs. Archer's cook always burnt the roe to a cinder. (Newland, who
+had long shared his wonder, could always detect it in the older man's
 expression of melancholy disapproval.)
 
-"Oh, necessarily; Beaufort is a vulgar man," said Mrs. Archer.  "My
-grandfather Newland always used to say to my mother:  'Whatever you do,
-don't let that fellow Beaufort be introduced to the girls.'  But at
+"Oh, necessarily; Beaufort is a vulgar man," said Mrs. Archer. "My
+grandfather Newland always used to say to my mother: 'Whatever you do,
+don't let that fellow Beaufort be introduced to the girls.' But at
 least he's had the advantage of associating with gentlemen; in England
-too, they say.  It's all very mysterious--" She glanced at Janey and
-paused.  She and Janey knew every fold of the Beaufort mystery, but in
+too, they say. It's all very mysterious--" She glanced at Janey and
+paused. She and Janey knew every fold of the Beaufort mystery, but in
 public Mrs. Archer continued to assume that the subject was not one for
 the unmarried.
 
-"But this Mrs. Struthers," Mrs. Archer continued; "what did you say SHE
-was, Sillerton?"
+"But this Mrs. Struthers," Mrs. Archer continued; "what did you say
+_she_ was, Sillerton?"
 
 "Out of a mine: or rather out of the saloon at the head of the pit.
-Then with Living Wax-Works, touring New England.  After the police
-broke THAT up, they say she lived--"  Mr. Jackson in his turn glanced
-at Janey, whose eyes began to bulge from under her prominent lids.
-There were still hiatuses for her in Mrs. Struthers's past.
+Then with Living Wax-Works, touring New England. After the police broke
+_that_ up, they say she lived--" Mr. Jackson in his turn glanced at
+Janey, whose eyes began to bulge from under her prominent lids. There
+were still hiatuses for her in Mrs. Struthers's past.
 
 "Then," Mr. Jackson continued (and Archer saw he was wondering why no
 one had told the butler never to slice cucumbers with a steel knife),
-"then Lemuel Struthers came along.  They say his advertiser used the
+"then Lemuel Struthers came along. They say his advertiser used the
 girl's head for the shoe-polish posters; her hair's intensely black,
-you know--the Egyptian style.  Anyhow, he--eventually--married her."
+you know--the Egyptian style. Anyhow, he--eventually--married her."
 There were volumes of innuendo in the way the "eventually" was spaced,
 and each syllable given its due stress.
 
 "Oh, well--at the pass we've come to nowadays, it doesn't matter," said
-Mrs. Archer indifferently.  The ladies were not really interested in
+Mrs. Archer indifferently. The ladies were not really interested in
 Mrs. Struthers just then; the subject of Ellen Olenska was too fresh
-and too absorbing to them.  Indeed, Mrs. Struthers's name had been
+and too absorbing to them. Indeed, Mrs. Struthers's name had been
 introduced by Mrs. Archer only that she might presently be able to say:
-"And Newland's new cousin--Countess Olenska?  Was SHE at the ball too?"
+"And Newland's new cousin--Countess Olenska? Was _she_ at the ball too?"
 
 There was a faint touch of sarcasm in the reference to her son, and
-Archer knew it and had expected it.  Even Mrs. Archer, who was seldom
-unduly pleased with human events, had been altogether glad of her son's
-engagement. ("Especially after that silly business with Mrs.
+Archer knew it and had expected it. Even Mrs. Archer, who was seldom
+unduly pleased with human events, had been altogether glad of her
+son's engagement. ("Especially after that silly business with Mrs.
 Rushworth," as she had remarked to Janey, alluding to what had once
 seemed to Newland a tragedy of which his soul would always bear the
 scar.)
 
 There was no better match in New York than May Welland, look at the
-question from whatever point you chose.  Of course such a marriage was
+question from whatever point you chose. Of course such a marriage was
 only what Newland was entitled to; but young men are so foolish and
 incalculable--and some women so ensnaring and unscrupulous--that it was
 nothing short of a miracle to see one's only son safe past the Siren
 Isle and in the haven of a blameless domesticity.
 
-All this Mrs. Archer felt, and her son knew she felt; but he knew also
-that she had been perturbed by the premature announcement of his
+All this Mrs. Archer felt, and her son knew she felt; but he knew
+also that she had been perturbed by the premature announcement of his
 engagement, or rather by its cause; and it was for that reason--because
 on the whole he was a tender and indulgent master--that he had stayed
-at home that evening.  "It's not that I don't approve of the Mingotts'
-esprit de corps; but why Newland's engagement should be mixed up with
+at home that evening. "It's not that I don't approve of the Mingotts'
+_esprit de corps_; but why Newland's engagement should be mixed up with
 that Olenska woman's comings and goings I don't see," Mrs. Archer
 grumbled to Janey, the only witness of her slight lapses from perfect
 sweetness.
@@ -1088,14 +1059,14 @@ unsurpassed--during the call on Mrs. Welland; but Newland knew (and his
 betrothed doubtless guessed) that all through the visit she and Janey
 were nervously on the watch for Madame Olenska's possible intrusion;
 and when they left the house together she had permitted herself to say
-to her son:  "I'm thankful that Augusta Welland received us alone."
+to her son: "I'm thankful that Augusta Welland received us alone."
 
 These indications of inward disturbance moved Archer the more that he
-too felt that the Mingotts had gone a little too far.  But, as it was
+too felt that the Mingotts had gone a little too far. But, as it was
 against all the rules of their code that the mother and son should ever
 allude to what was uppermost in their thoughts, he simply replied: "Oh,
 well, there's always a phase of family parties to be gone through when
-one gets engaged, and the sooner it's over the better."  At which his
+one gets engaged, and the sooner it's over the better." At which his
 mother merely pursed her lips under the lace veil that hung down from
 her grey velvet bonnet trimmed with frosted grapes.
 
@@ -1107,7 +1078,7 @@ subject was already beginning to bore him.
 
 Mr. Jackson had helped himself to a slice of the tepid filet which the
 mournful butler had handed him with a look as sceptical as his own, and
-had rejected the mushroom sauce after a scarcely perceptible sniff.  He
+had rejected the mushroom sauce after a scarcely perceptible sniff. He
 looked baffled and hungry, and Archer reflected that he would probably
 finish his meal on Ellen Olenska.
 
@@ -1118,20 +1089,20 @@ dark walls.
 "Ah, how your grandfather Archer loved a good dinner, my dear Newland!"
 he said, his eyes on the portrait of a plump full-chested young man in
 a stock and a blue coat, with a view of a white-columned country-house
-behind him.  "Well--well--well ... I wonder what he would have said to
+behind him. "Well--well--well ... I wonder what he would have said to
 all these foreign marriages!"
 
 Mrs. Archer ignored the allusion to the ancestral cuisine and Mr.
-Jackson continued with deliberation: "No, she was NOT at the ball."
+Jackson continued with deliberation: "No, she was _not_ at the ball."
 
-"Ah--" Mrs. Archer murmured, in a tone that implied:  "She had that
+"Ah--" Mrs. Archer murmured, in a tone that implied: "She had that
 decency."
 
 "Perhaps the Beauforts don't know her," Janey suggested, with her
 artless malice.
 
 Mr. Jackson gave a faint sip, as if he had been tasting invisible
-Madeira.  "Mrs. Beaufort may not--but Beaufort certainly does, for she
+Madeira. "Mrs. Beaufort may not--but Beaufort certainly does, for she
 was seen walking up Fifth Avenue this afternoon with him by the whole
 of New York."
 
@@ -1139,8 +1110,8 @@ of New York."
 trying to ascribe the actions of foreigners to a sense of delicacy.
 
 "I wonder if she wears a round hat or a bonnet in the afternoon," Janey
-speculated.  "At the Opera I know she had on dark blue velvet,
-perfectly plain and flat--like a night-gown."
+speculated. "At the Opera I know she had on dark blue velvet, perfectly
+plain and flat--like a night-gown."
 
 "Janey!" said her mother; and Miss Archer blushed and tried to look
 audacious.
@@ -1148,34 +1119,34 @@ audacious.
 "It was, at any rate, in better taste not to go to the ball," Mrs.
 Archer continued.
 
-A spirit of perversity moved her son to rejoin:  "I don't think it was
-a question of taste with her.  May said she meant to go, and then
-decided that the dress in question wasn't smart enough."
+A spirit of perversity moved her son to rejoin: "I don't think it was a
+question of taste with her. May said she meant to go, and then decided
+that the dress in question wasn't smart enough."
 
-Mrs. Archer smiled at this confirmation of her inference.  "Poor
-Ellen," she simply remarked; adding compassionately:  "We must always
-bear in mind what an eccentric bringing-up Medora Manson gave her.
-What can you expect of a girl who was allowed to wear black satin at
-her coming-out ball?"
+Mrs. Archer smiled at this confirmation of her inference. "Poor Ellen,"
+she simply remarked; adding compassionately: "We must always bear in
+mind what an eccentric bringing-up Medora Manson gave her. What can you
+expect of a girl who was allowed to wear black satin at her coming-out
+ball?"
 
-"Ah--don't I remember her in it!" said Mr. Jackson; adding:  "Poor
+"Ah--don't I remember her in it!" said Mr. Jackson; adding: "Poor
 girl!" in the tone of one who, while enjoying the memory, had fully
 understood at the time what the sight portended.
 
 "It's odd," Janey remarked, "that she should have kept such an ugly
-name as Ellen.  I should have changed it to Elaine."  She glanced about
+name as Ellen. I should have changed it to Elaine." She glanced about
 the table to see the effect of this.
 
-Her brother laughed.  "Why Elaine?"
+Her brother laughed. "Why Elaine?"
 
 "I don't know; it sounds more--more Polish," said Janey, blushing.
 
 "It sounds more conspicuous; and that can hardly be what she wishes,"
 said Mrs. Archer distantly.
 
-"Why not?" broke in her son, growing suddenly argumentative.  "Why
-shouldn't she be conspicuous if she chooses?  Why should she slink
-about as if it were she who had disgraced herself?  She's 'poor Ellen'
+"Why not?" broke in her son, growing suddenly argumentative. "Why
+shouldn't she be conspicuous if she chooses? Why should she slink
+about as if it were she who had disgraced herself? She's 'poor Ellen'
 certainly, because she had the bad luck to make a wretched marriage;
 but I don't see that that's a reason for hiding her head as if she were
 the culprit."
@@ -1183,21 +1154,21 @@ the culprit."
 "That, I suppose," said Mr. Jackson, speculatively, "is the line the
 Mingotts mean to take."
 
-The young man reddened.  "I didn't have to wait for their cue, if
-that's what you mean, sir.  Madame Olenska has had an unhappy life:
-that doesn't make her an outcast."
+The young man reddened. "I didn't have to wait for their cue, if that's
+what you mean, sir. Madame Olenska has had an unhappy life: that
+doesn't make her an outcast."
 
 "There are rumours," began Mr. Jackson, glancing at Janey.
 
-"Oh, I know: the secretary," the young man took him up.  "Nonsense,
-mother; Janey's grown-up.  They say, don't they," he went on, "that the
+"Oh, I know: the secretary," the young man took him up. "Nonsense,
+mother; Janey's grown-up. They say, don't they," he went on, "that the
 secretary helped her to get away from her brute of a husband, who kept
-her practically a prisoner?  Well, what if he did?  I hope there isn't
-a man among us who wouldn't have done the same in such a case."
+her practically a prisoner? Well, what if he did? I hope there isn't a
+man among us who wouldn't have done the same in such a case."
 
 Mr. Jackson glanced over his shoulder to say to the sad butler:
 "Perhaps ... that sauce ... just a little, after all--"; then, having
-helped himself, he remarked: "I'm told she's looking for a house.  She
+helped himself, he remarked: "I'm told she's looking for a house. She
 means to live here."
 
 "I hear she means to get a divorce," said Janey boldly.
@@ -1205,8 +1176,8 @@ means to live here."
 "I hope she will!" Archer exclaimed.
 
 The word had fallen like a bombshell in the pure and tranquil
-atmosphere of the Archer dining-room.  Mrs. Archer raised her delicate
-eye-brows in the particular curve that signified:  "The butler--" and
+atmosphere of the Archer dining-room. Mrs. Archer raised her delicate
+eye-brows in the particular curve that signified: "The butler--" and
 the young man, himself mindful of the bad taste of discussing such
 intimate matters in public, hastily branched off into an account of his
 visit to old Mrs. Mingott.
@@ -1221,19 +1192,19 @@ drawing-room of young Mrs. Newland Archer.
 
 While this rite was in progress in the drawing-room, Archer settled Mr.
 Jackson in an armchair near the fire in the Gothic library and handed
-him a cigar.  Mr. Jackson sank into the armchair with satisfaction, lit
-his cigar with perfect confidence (it was Newland who bought them), and
-stretching his thin old ankles to the coals, said:  "You say the
-secretary merely helped her to get away, my dear fellow?  Well, he was
+him a cigar. Mr. Jackson sank into the armchair with satisfaction, lit
+his cigar with perfect confidence (it was Newland who bought them),
+and stretching his thin old ankles to the coals, said: "You say the
+secretary merely helped her to get away, my dear fellow? Well, he was
 still helping her a year later, then; for somebody met 'em living at
 Lausanne together."
 
-Newland reddened.  "Living together?  Well, why not?  Who had the right
-to make her life over if she hadn't?  I'm sick of the hypocrisy that
+Newland reddened. "Living together? Well, why not? Who had the right
+to make her life over if she hadn't? I'm sick of the hypocrisy that
 would bury alive a woman of her age if her husband prefers to live with
 harlots."
 
-He stopped and turned away angrily to light his cigar.  "Women ought to
+He stopped and turned away angrily to light his cigar. "Women ought to
 be free--as free as we are," he declared, making a discovery of which
 he was too irritated to measure the terrific consequences.
 
@@ -1246,76 +1217,78 @@ back."
 
 
 
+
 VI.
 
+
 That evening, after Mr. Jackson had taken himself away, and the ladies
 had retired to their chintz-curtained bedroom, Newland Archer mounted
-thoughtfully to his own study.  A vigilant hand had, as usual, kept the
-fire alive and the lamp trimmed; and the room, with its rows and rows
-of books, its bronze and steel statuettes of "The Fencers" on the
-mantelpiece and its many photographs of famous pictures, looked
+thoughtfully to his own study. A vigilant hand had, as usual, kept
+the fire alive and the lamp trimmed; and the room, with its rows and
+rows of books, its bronze and steel statuettes of "The Fencers" on
+the mantelpiece and its many photographs of famous pictures, looked
 singularly home-like and welcoming.
 
 As he dropped into his armchair near the fire his eyes rested on a
-large photograph of May Welland, which the young girl had given him in
-the first days of their romance, and which had now displaced all the
-other portraits on the table.  With a new sense of awe he looked at the
-frank forehead, serious eyes and gay innocent mouth of the young
-creature whose soul's custodian he was to be.  That terrifying product
-of the social system he belonged to and believed in, the young girl who
-knew nothing and expected everything, looked back at him like a
+large photograph of May Welland, which the young girl had given him
+in the first days of their romance, and which had now displaced all
+the other portraits on the table. With a new sense of awe he looked at
+the frank forehead, serious eyes and gay innocent mouth of the young
+creature whose soul's custodian he was to be. That terrifying product
+of the social system he belonged to and believed in, the young girl
+who knew nothing and expected everything, looked back at him like a
 stranger through May Welland's familiar features; and once more it was
 borne in on him that marriage was not the safe anchorage he had been
 taught to think, but a voyage on uncharted seas.
 
-The case of the Countess Olenska had stirred up old settled convictions
-and set them drifting dangerously through his mind.  His own
-exclamation:  "Women should be free--as free as we are," struck to the
-root of a problem that it was agreed in his world to regard as
-non-existent.  "Nice" women, however wronged, would never claim the
-kind of freedom he meant, and generous-minded men like himself were
-therefore--in the heat of argument--the more chivalrously ready to
-concede it to them.  Such verbal generosities were in fact only a
+The case of the Countess Olenska had stirred up old settled
+convictions and set them drifting dangerously through his mind. His
+own exclamation: "Women should be free--as free as we are," struck
+to the root of a problem that it was agreed in his world to regard
+as non-existent. "Nice" women, however wronged, would never claim
+the kind of freedom he meant, and generous-minded men like himself
+were therefore--in the heat of argument--the more chivalrously ready
+to concede it to them. Such verbal generosities were in fact only a
 humbugging disguise of the inexorable conventions that tied things
-together and bound people down to the old pattern.  But here he was
-pledged to defend, on the part of his betrothed's cousin, conduct that,
-on his own wife's part, would justify him in calling down on her all
-the thunders of Church and State.  Of course the dilemma was purely
-hypothetical; since he wasn't a blackguard Polish nobleman, it was
-absurd to speculate what his wife's rights would be if he WERE.  But
-Newland Archer was too imaginative not to feel that, in his case and
-May's, the tie might gall for reasons far less gross and palpable.
+together and bound people down to the old pattern. But here he was
+pledged to defend, on the part of his betrothed's cousin, conduct
+that, on his own wife's part, would justify him in calling down on
+her all the thunders of Church and State. Of course the dilemma was
+purely hypothetical; since he wasn't a blackguard Polish nobleman, it
+was absurd to speculate what his wife's rights would be if he _were_.
+But Newland Archer was too imaginative not to feel that, in his case
+and May's, the tie might gall for reasons far less gross and palpable.
 What could he and she really know of each other, since it was his duty,
 as a "decent" fellow, to conceal his past from her, and hers, as a
-marriageable girl, to have no past to conceal?  What if, for some one
+marriageable girl, to have no past to conceal? What if, for some one
 of the subtler reasons that would tell with both of them, they should
-tire of each other, misunderstand or irritate each other?  He reviewed
+tire of each other, misunderstand or irritate each other? He reviewed
 his friends' marriages--the supposedly happy ones--and saw none that
 answered, even remotely, to the passionate and tender comradeship which
-he pictured as his permanent relation with May Welland.  He perceived
+he pictured as his permanent relation with May Welland. He perceived
 that such a picture presupposed, on her part, the experience, the
 versatility, the freedom of judgment, which she had been carefully
 trained not to possess; and with a shiver of foreboding he saw his
 marriage becoming what most of the other marriages about him were: a
 dull association of material and social interests held together by
-ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other.  Lawrence
-Lefferts occurred to him as the husband who had most completely
-realised this enviable ideal.  As became the high-priest of form, he
-had formed a wife so completely to his own convenience that, in the
-most conspicuous moments of his frequent love-affairs with other men's
-wives, she went about in smiling unconsciousness, saying that "Lawrence
-was so frightfully strict"; and had been known to blush indignantly,
-and avert her gaze, when some one alluded in her presence to the fact
-that Julius Beaufort (as became a "foreigner" of doubtful origin) had
-what was known in New York as "another establishment."
-
-Archer tried to console himself with the thought that he was not quite
-such an ass as Larry Lefferts, nor May such a simpleton as poor
-Gertrude; but the difference was after all one of intelligence and not
-of standards.  In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic
+ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other. Lawrence Lefferts
+occurred to him as the husband who had most completely realised this
+enviable ideal. As became the high-priest of form, he had formed a wife
+so completely to his own convenience that, in the most conspicuous
+moments of his frequent love-affairs with other men's wives, she
+went about in smiling unconsciousness, saying that "Lawrence was so
+frightfully strict"; and had been known to blush indignantly, and avert
+her gaze, when some one alluded in her presence to the fact that Julius
+Beaufort (as became a "foreigner" of doubtful origin) had what was
+known in New York as "another establishment."
+
+Archer tried to console himself with the thought that he was not
+quite such an ass as Larry Lefferts, nor May such a simpleton as poor
+Gertrude; but the difference was after all one of intelligence and
+not of standards. In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic
 world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but
-only represented by a set of arbitrary signs; as when Mrs. Welland, who
-knew exactly why Archer had pressed her to announce her daughter's
+only represented by a set of arbitrary signs; as when Mrs. Welland,
+who knew exactly why Archer had pressed her to announce her daughter's
 engagement at the Beaufort ball (and had indeed expected him to do no
 less), yet felt obliged to simulate reluctance, and the air of having
 had her hand forced, quite as, in the books on Primitive Man that
@@ -1324,38 +1297,38 @@ dragged with shrieks from her parents' tent.
 
 The result, of course, was that the young girl who was the centre of
 this elaborate system of mystification remained the more inscrutable
-for her very frankness and assurance.  She was frank, poor darling,
+for her very frankness and assurance. She was frank, poor darling,
 because she had nothing to conceal, assured because she knew of nothing
 to be on her guard against; and with no better preparation than this,
 she was to be plunged overnight into what people evasively called "the
 facts of life."
 
-The young man was sincerely but placidly in love.  He delighted in the
+The young man was sincerely but placidly in love. He delighted in the
 radiant good looks of his betrothed, in her health, her horsemanship,
 her grace and quickness at games, and the shy interest in books and
-ideas that she was beginning to develop under his guidance.  (She had
+ideas that she was beginning to develop under his guidance. (She had
 advanced far enough to join him in ridiculing the Idyls of the King,
 but not to feel the beauty of Ulysses and the Lotus Eaters.) She was
 straightforward, loyal and brave; she had a sense of humour (chiefly
-proved by her laughing at HIS jokes); and he suspected, in the depths
-of her innocently-gazing soul, a glow of feeling that it would be a joy
-to waken.  But when he had gone the brief round of her he returned
+proved by her laughing at _his_ jokes); and he suspected, in the depths
+of her innocently-gazing soul, a glow of feeling that it would be a
+joy to waken. But when he had gone the brief round of her he returned
 discouraged by the thought that all this frankness and innocence were
-only an artificial product.  Untrained human nature was not frank and
+only an artificial product. Untrained human nature was not frank and
 innocent; it was full of the twists and defences of an instinctive
-guile.  And he felt himself oppressed by this creation of factitious
+guile. And he felt himself oppressed by this creation of factitious
 purity, so cunningly manufactured by a conspiracy of mothers and aunts
-and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses, because it was supposed to
-be what he wanted, what he had a right to, in order that he might
+and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses, because it was supposed
+to be what he wanted, what he had a right to, in order that he might
 exercise his lordly pleasure in smashing it like an image made of snow.
 
 There was a certain triteness in these reflections: they were those
-habitual to young men on the approach of their wedding day.  But they
+habitual to young men on the approach of their wedding day. But they
 were generally accompanied by a sense of compunction and self-abasement
-of which Newland Archer felt no trace.  He could not deplore (as
+of which Newland Archer felt no trace. He could not deplore (as
 Thackeray's heroes so often exasperated him by doing) that he had not a
 blank page to offer his bride in exchange for the unblemished one she
-was to give to him.  He could not get away from the fact that if he had
+was to give to him. He could not get away from the fact that if he had
 been brought up as she had they would have been no more fit to find
 their way about than the Babes in the Wood; nor could he, for all his
 anxious cogitations, see any honest reason (any, that is, unconnected
@@ -1363,14 +1336,14 @@ with his own momentary pleasure, and the passion of masculine vanity)
 why his bride should not have been allowed the same freedom of
 experience as himself.
 
-Such questions, at such an hour, were bound to drift through his mind;
-but he was conscious that their uncomfortable persistence and precision
-were due to the inopportune arrival of the Countess Olenska.  Here he
-was, at the very moment of his betrothal--a moment for pure thoughts
-and cloudless hopes--pitchforked into a coil of scandal which raised
-all the special problems he would have preferred to let lie.  "Hang
-Ellen Olenska!" he grumbled, as he covered his fire and began to
-undress.  He could not really see why her fate should have the least
+Such questions, at such an hour, were bound to drift through his
+mind; but he was conscious that their uncomfortable persistence and
+precision were due to the inopportune arrival of the Countess Olenska.
+Here he was, at the very moment of his betrothal--a moment for pure
+thoughts and cloudless hopes--pitchforked into a coil of scandal which
+raised all the special problems he would have preferred to let lie.
+"Hang Ellen Olenska!" he grumbled, as he covered his fire and began to
+undress. He could not really see why her fate should have the least
 bearing on his; yet he dimly felt that he had only just begun to
 measure the risks of the championship which his engagement had forced
 upon him.
@@ -1388,21 +1361,21 @@ at least as their ambassadors.
 The guests had been selected with a boldness and discrimination in
 which the initiated recognised the firm hand of Catherine the Great.
 Associated with such immemorial standbys as the Selfridge Merrys, who
-were asked everywhere because they always had been, the Beauforts, on
-whom there was a claim of relationship, and Mr. Sillerton Jackson and
-his sister Sophy (who went wherever her brother told her to), were some
-of the most fashionable and yet most irreproachable of the dominant
-"young married" set; the Lawrence Leffertses, Mrs. Lefferts Rushworth
-(the lovely widow), the Harry Thorleys, the Reggie Chiverses and young
-Morris Dagonet and his wife (who was a van der Luyden).  The company
-indeed was perfectly assorted, since all the members belonged to the
-little inner group of people who, during the long New York season,
-disported themselves together daily and nightly with apparently
+were asked everywhere because they always had been, the Beauforts,
+on whom there was a claim of relationship, and Mr. Sillerton Jackson
+and his sister Sophy (who went wherever her brother told her to),
+were some of the most fashionable and yet most irreproachable of the
+dominant "young married" set; the Lawrence Leffertses, Mrs. Lefferts
+Rushworth (the lovely widow), the Harry Thorleys, the Reggie Chiverses
+and young Morris Dagonet and his wife (who was a van der Luyden). The
+company indeed was perfectly assorted, since all the members belonged
+to the little inner group of people who, during the long New York
+season, disported themselves together daily and nightly with apparently
 undiminished zest.
 
 Forty-eight hours later the unbelievable had happened; every one had
 refused the Mingotts' invitation except the Beauforts and old Mr.
-Jackson and his sister.  The intended slight was emphasised by the fact
+Jackson and his sister. The intended slight was emphasised by the fact
 that even the Reggie Chiverses, who were of the Mingott clan, were
 among those inflicting it; and by the uniform wording of the notes, in
 all of which the writers "regretted that they were unable to accept,"
@@ -1417,13 +1390,13 @@ Mingott's invitations to make cruelly clear their determination not to
 meet the Countess Olenska.
 
 The blow was unexpected; but the Mingotts, as their way was, met it
-gallantly.  Mrs. Lovell Mingott confided the case to Mrs. Welland, who
+gallantly. Mrs. Lovell Mingott confided the case to Mrs. Welland, who
 confided it to Newland Archer; who, aflame at the outrage, appealed
 passionately and authoritatively to his mother; who, after a painful
 period of inward resistance and outward temporising, succumbed to his
 instances (as she always did), and immediately embracing his cause with
 an energy redoubled by her previous hesitations, put on her grey velvet
-bonnet and said:  "I'll go and see Louisa van der Luyden."
+bonnet and said: "I'll go and see Louisa van der Luyden."
 
 The New York of Newland Archer's day was a small and slippery pyramid,
 in which, as yet, hardly a fissure had been made or a foothold gained.
@@ -1438,25 +1411,24 @@ last much longer.
 
 Firmly narrowing upward from this wealthy but inconspicuous substratum
 was the compact and dominant group which the Mingotts, Newlands,
-Chiverses and Mansons so actively represented.  Most people imagined
+Chiverses and Mansons so actively represented. Most people imagined
 them to be the very apex of the pyramid; but they themselves (at least
 those of Mrs. Archer's generation) were aware that, in the eyes of the
 professional genealogist, only a still smaller number of families could
 lay claim to that eminence.
 
 "Don't tell me," Mrs. Archer would say to her children, "all this
-modern newspaper rubbish about a New York aristocracy.  If there is
-one, neither the Mingotts nor the Mansons belong to it; no, nor the
-Newlands or the Chiverses either.  Our grandfathers and
-great-grandfathers were just respectable English or Dutch merchants,
-who came to the colonies to make their fortune, and stayed here because
-they did so well.  One of your great-grandfathers signed the
-Declaration, and another was a general on Washington's staff, and
-received General Burgoyne's sword after the battle of Saratoga.  These
-are things to be proud of, but they have nothing to do with rank or
-class.  New York has always been a commercial community, and there are
-not more than three families in it who can claim an aristocratic origin
-in the real sense of the word."
+modern newspaper rubbish about a New York aristocracy. If there is one,
+neither the Mingotts nor the Mansons belong to it; no, nor the Newlands
+or the Chiverses either. Our grandfathers and great-grandfathers were
+just respectable English or Dutch merchants, who came to the colonies
+to make their fortune, and stayed here because they did so well. One
+of your great-grandfathers signed the Declaration, and another was a
+general on Washington's staff, and received General Burgoyne's sword
+after the battle of Saratoga. These are things to be proud of, but
+they have nothing to do with rank or class. New York has always been a
+commercial community, and there are not more than three families in it
+who can claim an aristocratic origin in the real sense of the word."
 
 Mrs. Archer and her son and daughter, like every one else in New York,
 knew who these privileged beings were: the Dagonets of Washington
@@ -1469,8 +1441,8 @@ marriages to several members of the French and British aristocracy.
 The Lannings survived only in the person of two very old but lively
 Miss Lannings, who lived cheerfully and reminiscently among family
 portraits and Chippendale; the Dagonets were a considerable clan,
-allied to the best names in Baltimore and Philadelphia; but the van der
-Luydens, who stood above all of them, had faded into a kind of
+allied to the best names in Baltimore and Philadelphia; but the van
+der Luydens, who stood above all of them, had faded into a kind of
 super-terrestrial twilight, from which only two figures impressively
 emerged; those of Mr. and Mrs. Henry van der Luyden.
 
@@ -1478,12 +1450,12 @@ Mrs. Henry van der Luyden had been Louisa Dagonet, and her mother had
 been the granddaughter of Colonel du Lac, of an old Channel Island
 family, who had fought under Cornwallis and had settled in Maryland,
 after the war, with his bride, Lady Angelica Trevenna, fifth daughter
-of the Earl of St. Austrey.  The tie between the Dagonets, the du Lacs
+of the Earl of St. Austrey. The tie between the Dagonets, the du Lacs
 of Maryland, and their aristocratic Cornish kinsfolk, the Trevennas,
-had always remained close and cordial.  Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden had
-more than once paid long visits to the present head of the house of
-Trevenna, the Duke of St.  Austrey, at his country-seat in Cornwall and
-at St.  Austrey in Gloucestershire; and his Grace had frequently
+had always remained close and cordial. Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden
+had more than once paid long visits to the present head of the house
+of Trevenna, the Duke of St. Austrey, at his country-seat in Cornwall
+and at St. Austrey in Gloucestershire; and his Grace had frequently
 announced his intention of some day returning their visit (without the
 Duchess, who feared the Atlantic).
 
@@ -1491,26 +1463,28 @@ Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden divided their time between Trevenna, their
 place in Maryland, and Skuytercliff, the great estate on the Hudson
 which had been one of the colonial grants of the Dutch government to
 the famous first Governor, and of which Mr. van der Luyden was still
-"Patroon."  Their large solemn house in Madison Avenue was seldom
+"Patroon." Their large solemn house in Madison Avenue was seldom
 opened, and when they came to town they received in it only their most
 intimate friends.
 
 "I wish you would go with me, Newland," his mother said, suddenly
-pausing at the door of the Brown coupe.  "Louisa is fond of you; and of
+pausing at the door of the Brown coupe. "Louisa is fond of you; and of
 course it's on account of dear May that I'm taking this step--and also
 because, if we don't all stand together, there'll be no such thing as
 Society left."
 
 
 
+
 VII.
 
+
 Mrs. Henry van der Luyden listened in silence to her cousin Mrs.
 Archer's narrative.
 
 It was all very well to tell yourself in advance that Mrs. van der
-Luyden was always silent, and that, though non-committal by nature and
-training, she was very kind to the people she really liked.  Even
+Luyden was always silent, and that, though non-committal by nature
+and training, she was very kind to the people she really liked. Even
 personal experience of these facts was not always a protection from the
 chill that descended on one in the high-ceilinged white-walled Madison
 Avenue drawing-room, with the pale brocaded armchairs so obviously
@@ -1519,37 +1493,37 @@ mantel ornaments and the beautiful old carved frame of Gainsborough's
 "Lady Angelica du Lac."
 
 Mrs. van der Luyden's portrait by Huntington (in black velvet and
-Venetian point) faced that of her lovely ancestress.  It was generally
+Venetian point) faced that of her lovely ancestress. It was generally
 considered "as fine as a Cabanel," and, though twenty years had elapsed
 since its execution, was still "a perfect likeness." Indeed the Mrs.
 van der Luyden who sat beneath it listening to Mrs. Archer might have
 been the twin-sister of the fair and still youngish woman drooping
-against a gilt armchair before a green rep curtain.  Mrs. van der
+against a gilt armchair before a green rep curtain. Mrs. van der
 Luyden still wore black velvet and Venetian point when she went into
 society--or rather (since she never dined out) when she threw open her
-own doors to receive it.  Her fair hair, which had faded without
-turning grey, was still parted in flat overlapping points on her
-forehead, and the straight nose that divided her pale blue eyes was
-only a little more pinched about the nostrils than when the portrait
-had been painted.  She always, indeed, struck Newland Archer as having
-been rather gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of a
-perfectly irreproachable existence, as bodies caught in glaciers keep
-for years a rosy life-in-death.
-
-Like all his family, he esteemed and admired Mrs. van der Luyden; but
-he found her gentle bending sweetness less approachable than the
+own doors to receive it. Her fair hair, which had faded without turning
+grey, was still parted in flat overlapping points on her forehead,
+and the straight nose that divided her pale blue eyes was only a
+little more pinched about the nostrils than when the portrait had been
+painted. She always, indeed, struck Newland Archer as having been
+rather gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of a perfectly
+irreproachable existence, as bodies caught in glaciers keep for years a
+rosy life-in-death.
+
+Like all his family, he esteemed and admired Mrs. van der Luyden;
+but he found her gentle bending sweetness less approachable than the
 grimness of some of his mother's old aunts, fierce spinsters who said
 "No" on principle before they knew what they were going to be asked.
 
 Mrs. van der Luyden's attitude said neither yes nor no, but always
 appeared to incline to clemency till her thin lips, wavering into the
-shadow of a smile, made the almost invariable reply:  "I shall first
+shadow of a smile, made the almost invariable reply: "I shall first
 have to talk this over with my husband."
 
 She and Mr. van der Luyden were so exactly alike that Archer often
 wondered how, after forty years of the closest conjugality, two such
 merged identities ever separated themselves enough for anything as
-controversial as a talking-over.  But as neither had ever reached a
+controversial as a talking-over. But as neither had ever reached a
 decision without prefacing it by this mysterious conclave, Mrs. Archer
 and her son, having set forth their case, waited resignedly for the
 familiar phrase.
@@ -1564,8 +1538,8 @@ A footman appeared, to whom she gravely added: "If Mr. van der Luyden
 has finished reading the newspaper, please ask him to be kind enough to
 come."
 
-She said "reading the newspaper" in the tone in which a Minister's wife
-might have said:  "Presiding at a Cabinet meeting"--not from any
+She said "reading the newspaper" in the tone in which a Minister's
+wife might have said: "Presiding at a Cabinet meeting"--not from any
 arrogance of mind, but because the habit of a life-time, and the
 attitude of her friends and relations, had led her to consider Mr. van
 der Luyden's least gesture as having an almost sacerdotal importance.
@@ -1587,19 +1561,20 @@ language as his wife's, and seated himself in one of the brocade
 armchairs with the simplicity of a reigning sovereign.
 
 "I had just finished reading the Times," he said, laying his long
-finger-tips together.  "In town my mornings are so much occupied that I
+finger-tips together. "In town my mornings are so much occupied that I
 find it more convenient to read the newspapers after luncheon."
 
 "Ah, there's a great deal to be said for that plan--indeed I think my
 uncle Egmont used to say he found it less agitating not to read the
 morning papers till after dinner," said Mrs. Archer responsively.
 
-"Yes: my good father abhorred hurry.  But now we live in a constant
+"Yes: my good father abhorred hurry. But now we live in a constant
 rush," said Mr. van der Luyden in measured tones, looking with pleasant
 deliberation about the large shrouded room which to Archer was so
 complete an image of its owners.
 
-"But I hope you HAD finished your reading, Henry?" his wife interposed.
+"But I hope you _had_ finished your reading, Henry?" his wife
+interposed.
 
 "Quite--quite," he reassured her.
 
@@ -1610,38 +1585,38 @@ proceeded to rehearse once more the monstrous tale of the affront
 inflicted on Mrs. Lovell Mingott.
 
 "Of course," she ended, "Augusta Welland and Mary Mingott both felt
-that, especially in view of Newland's engagement, you and Henry OUGHT
-TO KNOW."
+that, especially in view of Newland's engagement, you and Henry _ought
+to know_."
 
 "Ah--" said Mr. van der Luyden, drawing a deep breath.
 
 There was a silence during which the tick of the monumental ormolu
 clock on the white marble mantelpiece grew as loud as the boom of a
-minute-gun.  Archer contemplated with awe the two slender faded
-figures, seated side by side in a kind of viceregal rigidity,
-mouthpieces of some remote ancestral authority which fate compelled
-them to wield, when they would so much rather have lived in simplicity
-and seclusion, digging invisible weeds out of the perfect lawns of
-Skuytercliff, and playing Patience together in the evenings.
+minute-gun. Archer contemplated with awe the two slender faded figures,
+seated side by side in a kind of viceregal rigidity, mouthpieces of
+some remote ancestral authority which fate compelled them to wield,
+when they would so much rather have lived in simplicity and seclusion,
+digging invisible weeds out of the perfect lawns of Skuytercliff, and
+playing Patience together in the evenings.
 
 Mr. van der Luyden was the first to speak.
 
 "You really think this is due to some--some intentional interference of
 Lawrence Lefferts's?" he enquired, turning to Archer.
 
-"I'm certain of it, sir.  Larry has been going it rather harder than
+"I'm certain of it, sir. Larry has been going it rather harder than
 usual lately--if cousin Louisa won't mind my mentioning it--having
 rather a stiff affair with the postmaster's wife in their village, or
 some one of that sort; and whenever poor Gertrude Lefferts begins to
-suspect anything, and he's afraid of trouble, he gets up a fuss of this
-kind, to show how awfully moral he is, and talks at the top of his
-voice about the impertinence of inviting his wife to meet people he
-doesn't wish her to know.  He's simply using Madame Olenska as a
+suspect anything, and he's afraid of trouble, he gets up a fuss of
+this kind, to show how awfully moral he is, and talks at the top of
+his voice about the impertinence of inviting his wife to meet people
+he doesn't wish her to know. He's simply using Madame Olenska as a
 lightning-rod; I've seen him try the same thing often before."
 
-"The LEFFERTSES!--" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
+"The _Leffertses_!--" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
 
-"The LEFFERTSES!--" echoed Mrs. Archer.  "What would uncle Egmont have
+"The _Leffertses_!--" echoed Mrs. Archer. "What would uncle Egmont have
 said of Lawrence Lefferts's pronouncing on anybody's social position?
 It shows what Society has come to."
 
@@ -1650,74 +1625,73 @@ firmly.
 
 "Ah, if only you and Louisa went out more!" sighed Mrs. Archer.
 
-But instantly she became aware of her mistake.  The van der Luydens
-were morbidly sensitive to any criticism of their secluded existence.
-They were the arbiters of fashion, the Court of last Appeal, and they
-knew it, and bowed to their fate.  But being shy and retiring persons,
-with no natural inclination for their part, they lived as much as
-possible in the sylvan solitude of Skuytercliff, and when they came to
-town, declined all invitations on the plea of Mrs. van der Luyden's
-health.
-
-Newland Archer came to his mother's rescue.  "Everybody in New York
-knows what you and cousin Louisa represent.  That's why Mrs. Mingott
+But instantly she became aware of her mistake. The van der Luydens were
+morbidly sensitive to any criticism of their secluded existence. They
+were the arbiters of fashion, the Court of last Appeal, and they knew
+it, and bowed to their fate. But being shy and retiring persons, with
+no natural inclination for their part, they lived as much as possible
+in the sylvan solitude of Skuytercliff, and when they came to town,
+declined all invitations on the plea of Mrs. van der Luyden's health.
+
+Newland Archer came to his mother's rescue. "Everybody in New York
+knows what you and cousin Louisa represent. That's why Mrs. Mingott
 felt she ought not to allow this slight on Countess Olenska to pass
 without consulting you."
 
 Mrs. van der Luyden glanced at her husband, who glanced back at her.
 
-"It is the principle that I dislike," said Mr. van der Luyden.  "As
+"It is the principle that I dislike," said Mr. van der Luyden. "As
 long as a member of a well-known family is backed up by that family it
 should be considered--final."
 
 "It seems so to me," said his wife, as if she were producing a new
 thought.
 
-"I had no idea," Mr. van der Luyden continued, "that things had come to
-such a pass."  He paused, and looked at his wife again.  "It occurs to
-me, my dear, that the Countess Olenska is already a sort of
-relation--through Medora Manson's first husband.  At any rate, she will
-be when Newland marries."  He turned toward the young man.  "Have you
+"I had no idea," Mr. van der Luyden continued, "that things had
+come to such a pass." He paused, and looked at his wife again. "It
+occurs to me, my dear, that the Countess Olenska is already a sort of
+relation--through Medora Manson's first husband. At any rate, she will
+be when Newland marries." He turned toward the young man. "Have you
 read this morning's Times, Newland?"
 
 "Why, yes, sir," said Archer, who usually tossed off half a dozen
 papers with his morning coffee.
 
-Husband and wife looked at each other again.  Their pale eyes clung
+Husband and wife looked at each other again. Their pale eyes clung
 together in prolonged and serious consultation; then a faint smile
-fluttered over Mrs. van der Luyden's face.  She had evidently guessed
+fluttered over Mrs. van der Luyden's face. She had evidently guessed
 and approved.
 
-Mr. van der Luyden turned to Mrs. Archer.  "If Louisa's health allowed
-her to dine out--I wish you would say to Mrs. Lovell Mingott--she and I
-would have been happy to--er--fill the places of the Lawrence
-Leffertses at her dinner."  He paused to let the irony of this sink in.
-"As you know, this is impossible."  Mrs. Archer sounded a sympathetic
-assent.  "But Newland tells me he has read this morning's Times;
+Mr. van der Luyden turned to Mrs. Archer. "If Louisa's health allowed
+her to dine out--I wish you would say to Mrs. Lovell Mingott--she
+and I would have been happy to--er--fill the places of the Lawrence
+Leffertses at her dinner." He paused to let the irony of this sink in.
+"As you know, this is impossible." Mrs. Archer sounded a sympathetic
+assent. "But Newland tells me he has read this morning's Times;
 therefore he has probably seen that Louisa's relative, the Duke of St.
-Austrey, arrives next week on the Russia.  He is coming to enter his
+Austrey, arrives next week on the Russia. He is coming to enter his
 new sloop, the Guinevere, in next summer's International Cup Race; and
-also to have a little canvasback shooting at Trevenna."  Mr. van der
-Luyden paused again, and continued with increasing benevolence:
-"Before taking him down to Maryland we are inviting a few friends to
-meet him here--only a little dinner--with a reception afterward.  I am
-sure Louisa will be as glad as I am if Countess Olenska will let us
-include her among our guests."  He got up, bent his long body with a
-stiff friendliness toward his cousin, and added:  "I think I have
-Louisa's authority for saying that she will herself leave the
-invitation to dine when she drives out presently: with our cards--of
-course with our cards."
+also to have a little canvasback shooting at Trevenna." Mr. van der
+Luyden paused again, and continued with increasing benevolence: "Before
+taking him down to Maryland we are inviting a few friends to meet him
+here--only a little dinner--with a reception afterward. I am sure
+Louisa will be as glad as I am if Countess Olenska will let us include
+her among our guests." He got up, bent his long body with a stiff
+friendliness toward his cousin, and added: "I think I have Louisa's
+authority for saying that she will herself leave the invitation to
+dine when she drives out presently: with our cards--of course with our
+cards."
 
 Mrs. Archer, who knew this to be a hint that the seventeen-hand
 chestnuts which were never kept waiting were at the door, rose with a
-hurried murmur of thanks.  Mrs. van der Luyden beamed on her with the
+hurried murmur of thanks. Mrs. van der Luyden beamed on her with the
 smile of Esther interceding with Ahasuerus; but her husband raised a
 protesting hand.
 
-"There is nothing to thank me for, dear Adeline; nothing whatever.
-This kind of thing must not happen in New York; it shall not, as long
-as I can help it," he pronounced with sovereign gentleness as he
-steered his cousins to the door.
+"There is nothing to thank me for, dear Adeline; nothing whatever. This
+kind of thing must not happen in New York; it shall not, as long as I
+can help it," he pronounced with sovereign gentleness as he steered his
+cousins to the door.
 
 Two hours later, every one knew that the great C-spring barouche in
 which Mrs. van der Luyden took the air at all seasons had been seen at
@@ -1730,13 +1704,15 @@ their cousin, the Duke of St. Austrey.
 Some of the younger men in the club box exchanged a smile at this
 announcement, and glanced sideways at Lawrence Lefferts, who sat
 carelessly in the front of the box, pulling his long fair moustache,
-and who remarked with authority, as the soprano paused:  "No one but
+and who remarked with authority, as the soprano paused: "No one but
 Patti ought to attempt the Sonnambula."
 
 
 
+
 VIII.
 
+
 It was generally agreed in New York that the Countess Olenska had "lost
 her looks."
 
@@ -1751,7 +1727,7 @@ Poor Medora, repeatedly widowed, was always coming home to settle down
 (each time in a less expensive house), and bringing with her a new
 husband or an adopted child; but after a few months she invariably
 parted from her husband or quarrelled with her ward, and, having got
-rid of her house at a loss, set out again on her wanderings.  As her
+rid of her house at a loss, set out again on her wanderings. As her
 mother had been a Rushworth, and her last unhappy marriage had linked
 her to one of the crazy Chiverses, New York looked indulgently on her
 eccentricities; but when she returned with her little orphaned niece,
@@ -1762,7 +1738,7 @@ such hands.
 Every one was disposed to be kind to little Ellen Mingott, though her
 dusky red cheeks and tight curls gave her an air of gaiety that seemed
 unsuitable in a child who should still have been in black for her
-parents.  It was one of the misguided Medora's many peculiarities to
+parents. It was one of the misguided Medora's many peculiarities to
 flout the unalterable rules that regulated American mourning, and when
 she stepped from the steamer her family were scandalised to see that
 the crape veil she wore for her own brother was seven inches shorter
@@ -1775,7 +1751,7 @@ relations fell under the charm of her high colour and high spirits.
 She was a fearless and familiar little thing, who asked disconcerting
 questions, made precocious comments, and possessed outlandish arts,
 such as dancing a Spanish shawl dance and singing Neapolitan love-songs
-to a guitar.  Under the direction of her aunt (whose real name was Mrs.
+to a guitar. Under the direction of her aunt (whose real name was Mrs.
 Thorley Chivers, but who, having received a Papal title, had resumed
 her first husband's patronymic, and called herself the Marchioness
 Manson, because in Italy she could turn it into Manzoni) the little
@@ -1783,186 +1759,185 @@ girl received an expensive but incoherent education, which included
 "drawing from the model," a thing never dreamed of before, and playing
 the piano in quintets with professional musicians.
 
-Of course no good could come of this; and when, a few years later, poor
-Chivers finally died in a madhouse, his widow (draped in strange weeds)
-again pulled up stakes and departed with Ellen, who had grown into a
-tall bony girl with conspicuous eyes.  For some time no more was heard
-of them; then news came of Ellen's marriage to an immensely rich Polish
-nobleman of legendary fame, whom she had met at a ball at the
+Of course no good could come of this; and when, a few years later,
+poor Chivers finally died in a madhouse, his widow (draped in strange
+weeds) again pulled up stakes and departed with Ellen, who had grown
+into a tall bony girl with conspicuous eyes. For some time no more was
+heard of them; then news came of Ellen's marriage to an immensely rich
+Polish nobleman of legendary fame, whom she had met at a ball at the
 Tuileries, and who was said to have princely establishments in Paris,
 Nice and Florence, a yacht at Cowes, and many square miles of shooting
-in Transylvania.  She disappeared in a kind of sulphurous apotheosis,
+in Transylvania. She disappeared in a kind of sulphurous apotheosis,
 and when a few years later Medora again came back to New York, subdued,
 impoverished, mourning a third husband, and in quest of a still smaller
 house, people wondered that her rich niece had not been able to do
-something for her.  Then came the news that Ellen's own marriage had
+something for her. Then came the news that Ellen's own marriage had
 ended in disaster, and that she was herself returning home to seek rest
 and oblivion among her kinsfolk.
 
 These things passed through Newland Archer's mind a week later as he
 watched the Countess Olenska enter the van der Luyden drawing-room on
-the evening of the momentous dinner.  The occasion was a solemn one,
-and he wondered a little nervously how she would carry it off.  She
+the evening of the momentous dinner. The occasion was a solemn one,
+and he wondered a little nervously how she would carry it off. She
 came rather late, one hand still ungloved, and fastening a bracelet
 about her wrist; yet she entered without any appearance of haste or
 embarrassment the drawing-room in which New York's most chosen company
 was somewhat awfully assembled.
 
 In the middle of the room she paused, looking about her with a grave
-mouth and smiling eyes; and in that instant Newland Archer rejected the
-general verdict on her looks.  It was true that her early radiance was
-gone.  The red cheeks had paled; she was thin, worn, a little
-older-looking than her age, which must have been nearly thirty.  But
+mouth and smiling eyes; and in that instant Newland Archer rejected
+the general verdict on her looks. It was true that her early radiance
+was gone. The red cheeks had paled; she was thin, worn, a little
+older-looking than her age, which must have been nearly thirty. But
 there was about her the mysterious authority of beauty, a sureness in
 the carriage of the head, the movement of the eyes, which, without
-being in the least theatrical, struck his as highly trained and full of
-a conscious power.  At the same time she was simpler in manner than
-most of the ladies present, and many people (as he heard afterward from
-Janey) were disappointed that her appearance was not more
-"stylish"--for stylishness was what New York most valued.  It was,
+being in the least theatrical, struck him as highly trained and full
+of a conscious power. At the same time she was simpler in manner than
+most of the ladies present, and many people (as he heard afterward
+from Janey) were disappointed that her appearance was not more
+"stylish"--for stylishness was what New York most valued. It was,
 perhaps, Archer reflected, because her early vivacity had disappeared;
 because she was so quiet--quiet in her movements, her voice, and the
-tones of her low-pitched voice.  New York had expected something a good
-deal more reasonant in a young woman with such a history.
-
-The dinner was a somewhat formidable business.  Dining with the van der
-Luydens was at best no light matter, and dining there with a Duke who
-was their cousin was almost a religious solemnity.  It pleased Archer
-to think that only an old New Yorker could perceive the shade of
-difference (to New York) between being merely a Duke and being the van
-der Luydens' Duke.  New York took stray noblemen calmly, and even
+tones of her low-pitched voice. New York had expected something a good
+deal more resonant in a young woman with such a history.
+
+The dinner was a somewhat formidable business. Dining with the van
+der Luydens was at best no light matter, and dining there with a Duke
+who was their cousin was almost a religious solemnity. It pleased
+Archer to think that only an old New Yorker could perceive the shade
+of difference (to New York) between being merely a Duke and being the
+van der Luydens' Duke. New York took stray noblemen calmly, and even
 (except in the Struthers set) with a certain distrustful hauteur; but
 when they presented such credentials as these they were received with
 an old-fashioned cordiality that they would have been greatly mistaken
-in ascribing solely to their standing in Debrett.  It was for just such
+in ascribing solely to their standing in Debrett. It was for just such
 distinctions that the young man cherished his old New York even while
 he smiled at it.
 
-The van der Luydens had done their best to emphasise the importance of
-the occasion.  The du Lac Sevres and the Trevenna George II plate were
-out; so was the van der Luyden "Lowestoft" (East India Company) and the
-Dagonet Crown Derby.  Mrs. van der Luyden looked more than ever like a
-Cabanel, and Mrs. Archer, in her grandmother's seed-pearls and
-emeralds, reminded her son of an Isabey miniature.  All the ladies had
-on their handsomest jewels, but it was characteristic of the house and
-the occasion that these were mostly in rather heavy old-fashioned
+The van der Luydens had done their best to emphasise the importance
+of the occasion. The du Lac Sevres and the Trevenna George II plate
+were out; so was the van der Luyden "Lowestoft" (East India Company)
+and the Dagonet Crown Derby. Mrs. van der Luyden looked more than ever
+like a Cabanel, and Mrs. Archer, in her grandmother's seed-pearls and
+emeralds, reminded her son of an Isabey miniature. All the ladies had
+on their handsomest jewels, but it was characteristic of the house
+and the occasion that these were mostly in rather heavy old-fashioned
 settings; and old Miss Lanning, who had been persuaded to come,
 actually wore her mother's cameos and a Spanish blonde shawl.
 
 The Countess Olenska was the only young woman at the dinner; yet, as
 Archer scanned the smooth plump elderly faces between their diamond
 necklaces and towering ostrich feathers, they struck him as curiously
-immature compared with hers.  It frightened him to think what must have
+immature compared with hers. It frightened him to think what must have
 gone to the making of her eyes.
 
 The Duke of St. Austrey, who sat at his hostess's right, was naturally
-the chief figure of the evening.  But if the Countess Olenska was less
-conspicuous than had been hoped, the Duke was almost invisible.  Being
+the chief figure of the evening. But if the Countess Olenska was less
+conspicuous than had been hoped, the Duke was almost invisible. Being
 a well-bred man he had not (like another recent ducal visitor) come to
 the dinner in a shooting-jacket; but his evening clothes were so shabby
 and baggy, and he wore them with such an air of their being homespun,
 that (with his stooping way of sitting, and the vast beard spreading
 over his shirt-front) he hardly gave the appearance of being in dinner
-attire.  He was short, round-shouldered, sunburnt, with a thick nose,
-small eyes and a sociable smile; but he seldom spoke, and when he did
-it was in such low tones that, despite the frequent silences of
+attire. He was short, round-shouldered, sunburnt, with a thick nose,
+small eyes and a sociable smile; but he seldom spoke, and when he
+did it was in such low tones that, despite the frequent silences of
 expectation about the table, his remarks were lost to all but his
 neighbours.
 
 When the men joined the ladies after dinner the Duke went straight up
-to the Countess Olenska, and they sat down in a corner and plunged into
-animated talk.  Neither seemed aware that the Duke should first have
-paid his respects to Mrs. Lovell Mingott and Mrs. Headly Chivers, and
-the Countess have conversed with that amiable hypochondriac, Mr. Urban
-Dagonet of Washington Square, who, in order to have the pleasure of
-meeting her, had broken through his fixed rule of not dining out
-between January and April.  The two chatted together for nearly twenty
+to the Countess Olenska, and they sat down in a corner and plunged
+into animated talk. Neither seemed aware that the Duke should first
+have paid his respects to Mrs. Lovell Mingott and Mrs. Headly Chivers,
+and the Countess have conversed with that amiable hypochondriac, Mr.
+Urban Dagonet of Washington Square, who, in order to have the pleasure
+of meeting her, had broken through his fixed rule of not dining out
+between January and April. The two chatted together for nearly twenty
 minutes; then the Countess rose and, walking alone across the wide
 drawing-room, sat down at Newland Archer's side.
 
-It was not the custom in New York drawing-rooms for a lady to get up
-and walk away from one gentleman in order to seek the company of
-another.  Etiquette required that she should wait, immovable as an
-idol, while the men who wished to converse with her succeeded each
-other at her side.  But the Countess was apparently unaware of having
-broken any rule; she sat at perfect ease in a corner of the sofa beside
-Archer, and looked at him with the kindest eyes.
+It was not the custom in New York drawing-rooms for a lady to get
+up and walk away from one gentleman in order to seek the company of
+another. Etiquette required that she should wait, immovable as an idol,
+while the men who wished to converse with her succeeded each other at
+her side. But the Countess was apparently unaware of having broken any
+rule; she sat at perfect ease in a corner of the sofa beside Archer,
+and looked at him with the kindest eyes.
 
 "I want you to talk to me about May," she said.
 
-Instead of answering her he asked:  "You knew the Duke before?"
+Instead of answering her he asked: "You knew the Duke before?"
 
-"Oh, yes--we used to see him every winter at Nice.  He's very fond of
-gambling--he used to come to the house a great deal."  She said it in
-the simplest manner, as if she had said:  "He's fond of wild-flowers";
-and after a moment she added candidly:  "I think he's the dullest man I
+"Oh, yes--we used to see him every winter at Nice. He's very fond of
+gambling--he used to come to the house a great deal." She said it in
+the simplest manner, as if she had said: "He's fond of wild-flowers";
+and after a moment she added candidly: "I think he's the dullest man I
 ever met."
 
 This pleased her companion so much that he forgot the slight shock her
-previous remark had caused him.  It was undeniably exciting to meet a
+previous remark had caused him. It was undeniably exciting to meet a
 lady who found the van der Luydens' Duke dull, and dared to utter the
-opinion.  He longed to question her, to hear more about the life of
+opinion. He longed to question her, to hear more about the life of
 which her careless words had given him so illuminating a glimpse; but
 he feared to touch on distressing memories, and before he could think
 of anything to say she had strayed back to her original subject.
 
 "May is a darling; I've seen no young girl in New York so handsome and
-so intelligent.  Are you very much in love with her?"
+so intelligent. Are you very much in love with her?"
 
-Newland Archer reddened and laughed.  "As much as a man can be."
+Newland Archer reddened and laughed. "As much as a man can be."
 
 She continued to consider him thoughtfully, as if not to miss any shade
 of meaning in what he said, "Do you think, then, there is a limit?"
 
-"To being in love?  If there is, I haven't found it!"
+"To being in love? If there is, I haven't found it!"
 
-She glowed with sympathy.  "Ah--it's really and truly a romance?"
+She glowed with sympathy. "Ah--it's really and truly a romance?"
 
 "The most romantic of romances!"
 
-"How delightful!  And you found it all out for yourselves--it was not
-in the least arranged for you?"
+"How delightful! And you found it all out for yourselves--it was not in
+the least arranged for you?"
 
-Archer looked at her incredulously.  "Have you forgotten," he asked
+Archer looked at her incredulously. "Have you forgotten," he asked
 with a smile, "that in our country we don't allow our marriages to be
 arranged for us?"
 
 A dusky blush rose to her cheek, and he instantly regretted his words.
 
-"Yes," she answered, "I'd forgotten.  You must forgive me if I
-sometimes make these mistakes.  I don't always remember that everything
-here is good that was--that was bad where I've come from."  She looked
-down at her Viennese fan of eagle feathers, and he saw that her lips
-trembled.
+"Yes," she answered, "I'd forgotten. You must forgive me if I sometimes
+make these mistakes. I don't always remember that everything here is
+good that was--that was bad where I've come from." She looked down at
+her Viennese fan of eagle feathers, and he saw that her lips trembled.
 
-"I'm so sorry," he said impulsively; "but you ARE among friends here,
+"I'm so sorry," he said impulsively; "but you _are_ among friends here,
 you know."
 
-"Yes--I know.  Wherever I go I have that feeling.  That's why I came
-home.  I want to forget everything else, to become a complete American
+"Yes--I know. Wherever I go I have that feeling. That's why I came
+home. I want to forget everything else, to become a complete American
 again, like the Mingotts and Wellands, and you and your delightful
-mother, and all the other good people here tonight.  Ah, here's May
+mother, and all the other good people here tonight. Ah, here's May
 arriving, and you will want to hurry away to her," she added, but
 without moving; and her eyes turned back from the door to rest on the
 young man's face.
 
 The drawing-rooms were beginning to fill up with after-dinner guests,
 and following Madame Olenska's glance Archer saw May Welland entering
-with her mother.  In her dress of white and silver, with a wreath of
+with her mother. In her dress of white and silver, with a wreath of
 silver blossoms in her hair, the tall girl looked like a Diana just
 alight from the chase.
 
 "Oh," said Archer, "I have so many rivals; you see she's already
-surrounded.  There's the Duke being introduced."
+surrounded. There's the Duke being introduced."
 
 "Then stay with me a little longer," Madame Olenska said in a low tone,
-just touching his knee with her plumed fan.  It was the lightest touch,
+just touching his knee with her plumed fan. It was the lightest touch,
 but it thrilled him like a caress.
 
 "Yes, let me stay," he answered in the same tone, hardly knowing what
-he said; but just then Mr. van der Luyden came up, followed by old Mr.
-Urban Dagonet.  The Countess greeted them with her grave smile, and
-Archer, feeling his host's admonitory glance on him, rose and
+he said; but just then Mr. van der Luyden came up, followed by old
+Mr. Urban Dagonet. The Countess greeted them with her grave smile,
+and Archer, feeling his host's admonitory glance on him, rose and
 surrendered his seat.
 
 Madame Olenska held out her hand as if to bid him goodbye.
@@ -1975,42 +1950,44 @@ engagement, and during their talk she had given him no hint that she
 wished to see him again.
 
 As he moved away he saw Lawrence Lefferts, tall and resplendent,
-leading his wife up to be introduced; and heard Gertrude Lefferts say,
-as she beamed on the Countess with her large unperceiving smile:  "But
-I think we used to go to dancing-school together when we were
-children--."  Behind her, waiting their turn to name themselves to the
+leading his wife up to be introduced; and heard Gertrude Lefferts
+say, as she beamed on the Countess with her large unperceiving smile:
+"But I think we used to go to dancing-school together when we were
+children--." Behind her, waiting their turn to name themselves to the
 Countess, Archer noticed a number of the recalcitrant couples who had
-declined to meet her at Mrs. Lovell Mingott's.  As Mrs. Archer
-remarked: when the van der Luydens chose, they knew how to give a
-lesson.  The wonder was that they chose so seldom.
+declined to meet her at Mrs. Lovell Mingott's. As Mrs. Archer remarked:
+when the van der Luydens chose, they knew how to give a lesson. The
+wonder was that they chose so seldom.
 
 The young man felt a touch on his arm and saw Mrs. van der Luyden
 looking down on him from the pure eminence of black velvet and the
-family diamonds.  "It was good of you, dear Newland, to devote yourself
-so unselfishly to Madame Olenska.  I told your cousin Henry he must
+family diamonds. "It was good of you, dear Newland, to devote yourself
+so unselfishly to Madame Olenska. I told your cousin Henry he must
 really come to the rescue."
 
 He was aware of smiling at her vaguely, and she added, as if
-condescending to his natural shyness:  "I've never seen May looking
-lovelier.  The Duke thinks her the handsomest girl in the room."
+condescending to his natural shyness: "I've never seen May looking
+lovelier. The Duke thinks her the handsomest girl in the room."
+
 
 
 
 IX.
 
+
 The Countess Olenska had said "after five"; and at half after the hour
 Newland Archer rang the bell of the peeling stucco house with a giant
 wisteria throttling its feeble cast-iron balcony, which she had hired,
 far down West Twenty-third Street, from the vagabond Medora.
 
-It was certainly a strange quarter to have settled in.  Small
+It was certainly a strange quarter to have settled in. Small
 dress-makers, bird-stuffers and "people who wrote" were her nearest
-neighbours; and further down the dishevelled street Archer recognised a
-dilapidated wooden house, at the end of a paved path, in which a writer
-and journalist called Winsett, whom he used to come across now and
-then, had mentioned that he lived.  Winsett did not invite people to
-his house; but he had once pointed it out to Archer in the course of a
-nocturnal stroll, and the latter had asked himself, with a little
+neighbours; and further down the dishevelled street Archer recognised
+a dilapidated wooden house, at the end of a paved path, in which a
+writer and journalist called Winsett, whom he used to come across now
+and then, had mentioned that he lived. Winsett did not invite people
+to his house; but he had once pointed it out to Archer in the course
+of a nocturnal stroll, and the latter had asked himself, with a little
 shiver, if the humanities were so meanly housed in other capitals.
 
 Madame Olenska's own dwelling was redeemed from the same appearance
@@ -2018,24 +1995,24 @@ only by a little more paint about the window-frames; and as Archer
 mustered its modest front he said to himself that the Polish Count must
 have robbed her of her fortune as well as of her illusions.
 
-The young man had spent an unsatisfactory day.  He had lunched with the
-Wellands, hoping afterward to carry off May for a walk in the Park.  He
-wanted to have her to himself, to tell her how enchanting she had
+The young man had spent an unsatisfactory day. He had lunched with the
+Wellands, hoping afterward to carry off May for a walk in the Park.
+He wanted to have her to himself, to tell her how enchanting she had
 looked the night before, and how proud he was of her, and to press her
-to hasten their marriage.  But Mrs. Welland had firmly reminded him
-that the round of family visits was not half over, and, when he hinted
-at advancing the date of the wedding, had raised reproachful eye-brows
-and sighed out:  "Twelve dozen of everything--hand-embroidered--"
+to hasten their marriage. But Mrs. Welland had firmly reminded him that
+the round of family visits was not half over, and, when he hinted at
+advancing the date of the wedding, had raised reproachful eye-brows and
+sighed out: "Twelve dozen of everything--hand-embroidered--"
 
 Packed in the family landau they rolled from one tribal doorstep to
 another, and Archer, when the afternoon's round was over, parted from
 his betrothed with the feeling that he had been shown off like a wild
-animal cunningly trapped.  He supposed that his readings in
-anthropology caused him to take such a coarse view of what was after
-all a simple and natural demonstration of family feeling; but when he
-remembered that the Wellands did not expect the wedding to take place
-till the following autumn, and pictured what his life would be till
-then, a dampness fell upon his spirit.
+animal cunningly trapped. He supposed that his readings in anthropology
+caused him to take such a coarse view of what was after all a simple
+and natural demonstration of family feeling; but when he remembered
+that the Wellands did not expect the wedding to take place till the
+following autumn, and pictured what his life would be till then, a
+dampness fell upon his spirit.
 
 "Tomorrow," Mrs. Welland called after him, "we'll do the Chiverses and
 the Dallases"; and he perceived that she was going through their two
@@ -2045,116 +2022,114 @@ of the alphabet.
 He had meant to tell May of the Countess Olenska's request--her
 command, rather--that he should call on her that afternoon; but in the
 brief moments when they were alone he had had more pressing things to
-say.  Besides, it struck him as a little absurd to allude to the
-matter.  He knew that May most particularly wanted him to be kind to
-her cousin; was it not that wish which had hastened the announcement of
-their engagement?  It gave him an odd sensation to reflect that, but
-for the Countess's arrival, he might have been, if not still a free
-man, at least a man less irrevocably pledged.  But May had willed it
-so, and he felt himself somehow relieved of further responsibility--and
-therefore at liberty, if he chose, to call on her cousin without
-telling her.
+say. Besides, it struck him as a little absurd to allude to the matter.
+He knew that May most particularly wanted him to be kind to her cousin;
+was it not that wish which had hastened the announcement of their
+engagement? It gave him an odd sensation to reflect that, but for the
+Countess's arrival, he might have been, if not still a free man, at
+least a man less irrevocably pledged. But May had willed it so, and he
+felt himself somehow relieved of further responsibility--and therefore
+at liberty, if he chose, to call on her cousin without telling her.
 
 As he stood on Madame Olenska's threshold curiosity was his uppermost
-feeling.  He was puzzled by the tone in which she had summoned him; he
+feeling. He was puzzled by the tone in which she had summoned him; he
 concluded that she was less simple than she seemed.
 
 The door was opened by a swarthy foreign-looking maid, with a prominent
 bosom under a gay neckerchief, whom he vaguely fancied to be Sicilian.
 She welcomed him with all her white teeth, and answering his enquiries
-by a head-shake of incomprehension led him through the narrow hall into
-a low firelit drawing-room.  The room was empty, and she left him, for
-an appreciable time, to wonder whether she had gone to find her
+by a head-shake of incomprehension led him through the narrow hall
+into a low firelit drawing-room. The room was empty, and she left him,
+for an appreciable time, to wonder whether she had gone to find her
 mistress, or whether she had not understood what he was there for, and
 thought it might be to wind the clock--of which he perceived that the
-only visible specimen had stopped.  He knew that the southern races
+only visible specimen had stopped. He knew that the southern races
 communicated with each other in the language of pantomime, and was
-mortified to find her shrugs and smiles so unintelligible.  At length
-she returned with a lamp; and Archer, having meanwhile put together a
-phrase out of Dante and Petrarch, evoked the answer: "La signora e
-fuori; ma verra subito"; which he took to mean:  "She's out--but you'll
+mortified to find her shrugs and smiles so unintelligible. At length
+she returned with a lamp; and Archer, having meanwhile put together
+a phrase out of Dante and Petrarch, evoked the answer: "La signora e
+fuori; ma verra subito"; which he took to mean: "She's out--but you'll
 soon see."
 
 What he saw, meanwhile, with the help of the lamp, was the faded
-shadowy charm of a room unlike any room he had known.  He knew that the
+shadowy charm of a room unlike any room he had known. He knew that the
 Countess Olenska had brought some of her possessions with her--bits of
-wreckage, she called them--and these, he supposed, were represented by
-some small slender tables of dark wood, a delicate little Greek bronze
-on the chimney-piece, and a stretch of red damask nailed on the
+wreckage, she called them--and these, he supposed, were represented
+by some small slender tables of dark wood, a delicate little Greek
+bronze on the chimney-piece, and a stretch of red damask nailed on the
 discoloured wallpaper behind a couple of Italian-looking pictures in
 old frames.
 
-Newland Archer prided himself on his knowledge of Italian art.  His
+Newland Archer prided himself on his knowledge of Italian art. His
 boyhood had been saturated with Ruskin, and he had read all the latest
 books: John Addington Symonds, Vernon Lee's "Euphorion," the essays of
 P. G. Hamerton, and a wonderful new volume called "The Renaissance" by
-Walter Pater.  He talked easily of Botticelli, and spoke of Fra
-Angelico with a faint condescension.  But these pictures bewildered
-him, for they were like nothing that he was accustomed to look at (and
-therefore able to see) when he travelled in Italy; and perhaps, also,
-his powers of observation were impaired by the oddness of finding
-himself in this strange empty house, where apparently no one expected
-him.  He was sorry that he had not told May Welland of Countess
-Olenska's request, and a little disturbed by the thought that his
-betrothed might come in to see her cousin.  What would she think if she
-found him sitting there with the air of intimacy implied by waiting
-alone in the dusk at a lady's fireside?
+Walter Pater. He talked easily of Botticelli, and spoke of Fra Angelico
+with a faint condescension. But these pictures bewildered him, for they
+were like nothing that he was accustomed to look at (and therefore able
+to see) when he travelled in Italy; and perhaps, also, his powers of
+observation were impaired by the oddness of finding himself in this
+strange empty house, where apparently no one expected him. He was sorry
+that he had not told May Welland of Countess Olenska's request, and a
+little disturbed by the thought that his betrothed might come in to see
+her cousin. What would she think if she found him sitting there with
+the air of intimacy implied by waiting alone in the dusk at a lady's
+fireside?
 
 But since he had come he meant to wait; and he sank into a chair and
 stretched his feet to the logs.
 
 It was odd to have summoned him in that way, and then forgotten him;
-but Archer felt more curious than mortified.  The atmosphere of the
-room was so different from any he had ever breathed that
-self-consciousness vanished in the sense of adventure.  He had been
-before in drawing-rooms hung with red damask, with pictures "of the
-Italian school"; what struck him was the way in which Medora Manson's
-shabby hired house, with its blighted background of pampas grass and
-Rogers statuettes, had, by a turn of the hand, and the skilful use of a
-few properties, been transformed into something intimate, "foreign,"
-subtly suggestive of old romantic scenes and sentiments.  He tried to
-analyse the trick, to find a clue to it in the way the chairs and
-tables were grouped, in the fact that only two Jacqueminot roses (of
-which nobody ever bought less than a dozen) had been placed in the
-slender vase at his elbow, and in the vague pervading perfume that was
-not what one put on handkerchiefs, but rather like the scent of some
-far-off bazaar, a smell made up of Turkish coffee and ambergris and
-dried roses.
-
-His mind wandered away to the question of what May's drawing-room would
-look like.  He knew that Mr. Welland, who was behaving "very
+but Archer felt more curious than mortified. The atmosphere of the room
+was so different from any he had ever breathed that self-consciousness
+vanished in the sense of adventure. He had been before in drawing-rooms
+hung with red damask, with pictures "of the Italian school"; what
+struck him was the way in which Medora Manson's shabby hired house,
+with its blighted background of pampas grass and Rogers statuettes,
+had, by a turn of the hand, and the skilful use of a few properties,
+been transformed into something intimate, "foreign," subtly suggestive
+of old romantic scenes and sentiments. He tried to analyse the trick,
+to find a clue to it in the way the chairs and tables were grouped,
+in the fact that only two Jacqueminot roses (of which nobody ever
+bought less than a dozen) had been placed in the slender vase at his
+elbow, and in the vague pervading perfume that was not what one put
+on handkerchiefs, but rather like the scent of some far-off bazaar, a
+smell made up of Turkish coffee and ambergris and dried roses.
+
+His mind wandered away to the question of what May's drawing-room
+would look like. He knew that Mr. Welland, who was behaving "very
 handsomely," already had his eye on a newly built house in East
-Thirty-ninth Street.  The neighbourhood was thought remote, and the
+Thirty-ninth Street. The neighbourhood was thought remote, and the
 house was built in a ghastly greenish-yellow stone that the younger
 architects were beginning to employ as a protest against the brownstone
 of which the uniform hue coated New York like a cold chocolate sauce;
-but the plumbing was perfect.  Archer would have liked to travel, to
+but the plumbing was perfect. Archer would have liked to travel, to
 put off the housing question; but, though the Wellands approved of an
 extended European honeymoon (perhaps even a winter in Egypt), they were
-firm as to the need of a house for the returning couple.  The young man
+firm as to the need of a house for the returning couple. The young man
 felt that his fate was sealed: for the rest of his life he would go up
 every evening between the cast-iron railings of that greenish-yellow
 doorstep, and pass through a Pompeian vestibule into a hall with a
-wainscoting of varnished yellow wood.  But beyond that his imagination
-could not travel.  He knew the drawing-room above had a bay window, but
-he could not fancy how May would deal with it.  She submitted
-cheerfully to the purple satin and yellow tuftings of the Welland
-drawing-room, to its sham Buhl tables and gilt vitrines full of modern
-Saxe.  He saw no reason to suppose that she would want anything
-different in her own house; and his only comfort was to reflect that
-she would probably let him arrange his library as he pleased--which
-would be, of course, with "sincere" Eastlake furniture, and the plain
-new bookcases without glass doors.
+wainscoting of varnished yellow wood. But beyond that his imagination
+could not travel. He knew the drawing-room above had a bay window, but
+he could not fancy how May would deal with it. She submitted cheerfully
+to the purple satin and yellow tuftings of the Welland drawing-room,
+to its sham Buhl tables and gilt vitrines full of modern Saxe. He saw
+no reason to suppose that she would want anything different in her own
+house; and his only comfort was to reflect that she would probably let
+him arrange his library as he pleased--which would be, of course, with
+"sincere" Eastlake furniture, and the plain new bookcases without glass
+doors.
 
 The round-bosomed maid came in, drew the curtains, pushed back a log,
-and said consolingly: "Verra--verra."  When she had gone Archer stood
-up and began to wander about.  Should he wait any longer?  His position
-was becoming rather foolish.  Perhaps he had misunderstood Madame
+and said consolingly: "Verra--verra." When she had gone Archer stood
+up and began to wander about. Should he wait any longer? His position
+was becoming rather foolish. Perhaps he had misunderstood Madame
 Olenska--perhaps she had not invited him after all.
 
 Down the cobblestones of the quiet street came the ring of a stepper's
 hoofs; they stopped before the house, and he caught the opening of a
-carriage door.  Parting the curtains he looked out into the early dusk.
+carriage door. Parting the curtains he looked out into the early dusk.
 A street-lamp faced him, and in its light he saw Julius Beaufort's
 compact English brougham, drawn by a big roan, and the banker
 descending from it, and helping out Madame Olenska.
@@ -2166,7 +2141,7 @@ carriage while she mounted the steps.
 When she entered the room she showed no surprise at seeing Archer
 there; surprise seemed the emotion that she was least addicted to.
 
-"How do you like my funny house?" she asked.  "To me it's like heaven."
+"How do you like my funny house?" she asked. "To me it's like heaven."
 
 As she spoke she untied her little velvet bonnet and tossing it away
 with her long cloak stood looking at him with meditative eyes.
@@ -2175,27 +2150,27 @@ with her long cloak stood looking at him with meditative eyes.
 of the words, but imprisoned in the conventional by his consuming
 desire to be simple and striking.
 
-"Oh, it's a poor little place.  My relations despise it.  But at any
-rate it's less gloomy than the van der Luydens'."
+"Oh, it's a poor little place. My relations despise it. But at any rate
+it's less gloomy than the van der Luydens'."
 
 The words gave him an electric shock, for few were the rebellious
 spirits who would have dared to call the stately home of the van der
-Luydens gloomy.  Those privileged to enter it shivered there, and spoke
-of it as "handsome."  But suddenly he was glad that she had given voice
+Luydens gloomy. Those privileged to enter it shivered there, and spoke
+of it as "handsome." But suddenly he was glad that she had given voice
 to the general shiver.
 
 "It's delicious--what you've done here," he repeated.
 
 "I like the little house," she admitted; "but I suppose what I like is
 the blessedness of its being here, in my own country and my own town;
-and then, of being alone in it."  She spoke so low that he hardly heard
+and then, of being alone in it." She spoke so low that he hardly heard
 the last phrase; but in his awkwardness he took it up.
 
 "You like so much to be alone?"
 
-"Yes; as long as my friends keep me from feeling lonely."  She sat down
-near the fire, said:  "Nastasia will bring the tea presently," and
-signed to him to return to his armchair, adding:  "I see you've already
+"Yes; as long as my friends keep me from feeling lonely." She sat down
+near the fire, said: "Nastasia will bring the tea presently," and
+signed to him to return to his armchair, adding: "I see you've already
 chosen your corner."
 
 Leaning back, she folded her arms behind her head, and looked at the
@@ -2204,54 +2179,54 @@ fire under drooping lids.
 "This is the hour I like best--don't you?"
 
 A proper sense of his dignity caused him to answer: "I was afraid you'd
-forgotten the hour.  Beaufort must have been very engrossing."
+forgotten the hour. Beaufort must have been very engrossing."
 
-She looked amused.  "Why--have you waited long?  Mr. Beaufort took me
-to see a number of houses--since it seems I'm not to be allowed to stay
-in this one."  She appeared to dismiss both Beaufort and himself from
-her mind, and went on:  "I've never been in a city where there seems to
-be such a feeling against living in des quartiers excentriques.  What
-does it matter where one lives?  I'm told this street is respectable."
+She looked amused. "Why--have you waited long? Mr. Beaufort took me to
+see a number of houses--since it seems I'm not to be allowed to stay in
+this one." She appeared to dismiss both Beaufort and himself from her
+mind, and went on: "I've never been in a city where there seems to be
+such a feeling against living in _des quartiers excentriques_. What does
+it matter where one lives? I'm told this street is respectable."
 
 "It's not fashionable."
 
-"Fashionable!  Do you all think so much of that?  Why not make one's
-own fashions?  But I suppose I've lived too independently; at any rate,
-I want to do what you all do--I want to feel cared for and safe."
+"Fashionable! Do you all think so much of that? Why not make one's own
+fashions? But I suppose I've lived too independently; at any rate, I
+want to do what you all do--I want to feel cared for and safe."
 
 He was touched, as he had been the evening before when she spoke of her
 need of guidance.
 
-"That's what your friends want you to feel.  New York's an awfully safe
+"That's what your friends want you to feel. New York's an awfully safe
 place," he added with a flash of sarcasm.
 
-"Yes, isn't it?  One feels that," she cried, missing the mockery.
-"Being here is like--like--being taken on a holiday when one has been a
-good little girl and done all one's lessons."
+"Yes, isn't it? One feels that," she cried, missing the mockery. "Being
+here is like--like--being taken on a holiday when one has been a good
+little girl and done all one's lessons."
 
-The analogy was well meant, but did not altogether please him.  He did
+The analogy was well meant, but did not altogether please him. He did
 not mind being flippant about New York, but disliked to hear any one
-else take the same tone.  He wondered if she did not begin to see what
-a powerful engine it was, and how nearly it had crushed her.  The
-Lovell Mingotts' dinner, patched up in extremis out of all sorts of
-social odds and ends, ought to have taught her the narrowness of her
-escape; but either she had been all along unaware of having skirted
-disaster, or else she had lost sight of it in the triumph of the van
-der Luyden evening.  Archer inclined to the former theory; he fancied
-that her New York was still completely undifferentiated, and the
-conjecture nettled him.
-
-"Last night," he said, "New York laid itself out for you.  The van der
+else take the same tone. He wondered if she did not begin to see what a
+powerful engine it was, and how nearly it had crushed her. The Lovell
+Mingotts' dinner, patched up in extremis out of all sorts of social
+odds and ends, ought to have taught her the narrowness of her escape;
+but either she had been all along unaware of having skirted disaster,
+or else she had lost sight of it in the triumph of the van der Luyden
+evening. Archer inclined to the former theory; he fancied that her New
+York was still completely undifferentiated, and the conjecture nettled
+him.
+
+"Last night," he said, "New York laid itself out for you. The van der
 Luydens do nothing by halves."
 
-"No: how kind they are!  It was such a nice party.  Every one seems to
+"No: how kind they are! It was such a nice party. Every one seems to
 have such an esteem for them."
 
 The terms were hardly adequate; she might have spoken in that way of a
 tea-party at the dear old Miss Lannings'.
 
-"The van der Luydens," said Archer, feeling himself pompous as he
-spoke, "are the most powerful influence in New York society.
+"The van der Luydens," said Archer, feeling himself pompous as
+he spoke, "are the most powerful influence in New York society.
 Unfortunately--owing to her health--they receive very seldom."
 
 She unclasped her hands from behind her head, and looked at him
@@ -2264,8 +2239,8 @@ meditatively.
 "For their great influence; that they make themselves so rare."
 
 He coloured a little, stared at her--and suddenly felt the penetration
-of the remark.  At a stroke she had pricked the van der Luydens and
-they collapsed.  He laughed, and sacrificed them.
+of the remark. At a stroke she had pricked the van der Luydens and they
+collapsed. He laughed, and sacrificed them.
 
 Nastasia brought the tea, with handleless Japanese cups and little
 covered dishes, placing the tray on a low table.
@@ -2277,21 +2252,21 @@ know," Madame Olenska continued, leaning forward to hand him his cup.
 so long that I'd ceased to see them."
 
 She detached a small gold cigarette-case from one of her bracelets,
-held it out to him, and took a cigarette herself.  On the chimney were
+held it out to him, and took a cigarette herself. On the chimney were
 long spills for lighting them.
 
-"Ah, then we can both help each other.  But I want help so much more.
+"Ah, then we can both help each other. But I want help so much more.
 You must tell me just what to do."
 
-It was on the tip of his tongue to reply:  "Don't be seen driving about
+It was on the tip of his tongue to reply: "Don't be seen driving about
 the streets with Beaufort--" but he was being too deeply drawn into the
-atmosphere of the room, which was her atmosphere, and to give advice of
-that sort would have been like telling some one who was bargaining for
-attar-of-roses in Samarkand that one should always be provided with
-arctics for a New York winter.  New York seemed much farther off than
+atmosphere of the room, which was her atmosphere, and to give advice
+of that sort would have been like telling some one who was bargaining
+for attar-of-roses in Samarkand that one should always be provided with
+arctics for a New York winter. New York seemed much farther off than
 Samarkand, and if they were indeed to help each other she was rendering
 what might prove the first of their mutual services by making him look
-at his native city objectively.  Viewed thus, as through the wrong end
+at his native city objectively. Viewed thus, as through the wrong end
 of a telescope, it looked disconcertingly small and distant; but then
 from Samarkand it would.
 
@@ -2303,100 +2278,99 @@ braids, and made her pale face paler.
 "There are plenty of people to tell you what to do," Archer rejoined,
 obscurely envious of them.
 
-"Oh--all my aunts?  And my dear old Granny?"  She considered the idea
-impartially.  "They're all a little vexed with me for setting up for
-myself--poor Granny especially.  She wanted to keep me with her; but I
-had to be free--"  He was impressed by this light way of speaking of
-the formidable Catherine, and moved by the thought of what must have
-given Madame Olenska this thirst for even the loneliest kind of
-freedom.  But the idea of Beaufort gnawed him.
+"Oh--all my aunts? And my dear old Granny?" She considered the idea
+impartially. "They're all a little vexed with me for setting up for
+myself--poor Granny especially. She wanted to keep me with her; but I
+had to be free--" He was impressed by this light way of speaking of the
+formidable Catherine, and moved by the thought of what must have given
+Madame Olenska this thirst for even the loneliest kind of freedom. But
+the idea of Beaufort gnawed him.
 
-"I think I understand how you feel," he said.  "Still, your family can
+"I think I understand how you feel," he said. "Still, your family can
 advise you; explain differences; show you the way."
 
-She lifted her thin black eyebrows.  "Is New York such a labyrinth?  I
-thought it so straight up and down--like Fifth Avenue.  And with all
-the cross streets numbered!"  She seemed to guess his faint disapproval
-of this, and added, with the rare smile that enchanted her whole face:
-"If you knew how I like it for just THAT--the straight-up-and-downness,
+She lifted her thin black eyebrows. "Is New York such a labyrinth? I
+thought it so straight up and down--like Fifth Avenue. And with all the
+cross streets numbered!" She seemed to guess his faint disapproval of
+this, and added, with the rare smile that enchanted her whole face: "If
+you knew how I like it for just _that_--the straight-up-and-downness,
 and the big honest labels on everything!"
 
-He saw his chance.  "Everything may be labelled--but everybody is not."
+He saw his chance. "Everything may be labelled--but everybody is not."
 
-"Perhaps.  I may simplify too much--but you'll warn me if I do."  She
-turned from the fire to look at him.  "There are only two people here
+"Perhaps. I may simplify too much--but you'll warn me if I do." She
+turned from the fire to look at him. "There are only two people here
 who make me feel as if they understood what I mean and could explain
 things to me: you and Mr. Beaufort."
 
 Archer winced at the joining of the names, and then, with a quick
-readjustment, understood, sympathised and pitied.  So close to the
+readjustment, understood, sympathised and pitied. So close to the
 powers of evil she must have lived that she still breathed more freely
-in their air.  But since she felt that he understood her also, his
+in their air. But since she felt that he understood her also, his
 business would be to make her see Beaufort as he really was, with all
 he represented--and abhor it.
 
-He answered gently:  "I understand.  But just at first don't let go of
+He answered gently: "I understand. But just at first don't let go of
 your old friends' hands: I mean the older women, your Granny Mingott,
-Mrs. Welland, Mrs. van der Luyden.  They like and admire you--they want
+Mrs. Welland, Mrs. van der Luyden. They like and admire you--they want
 to help you."
 
-She shook her head and sighed.  "Oh, I know--I know!  But on condition
-that they don't hear anything unpleasant.  Aunt Welland put it in those
-very words when I tried....  Does no one want to know the truth here,
-Mr. Archer?  The real loneliness is living among all these kind people
+She shook her head and sighed. "Oh, I know--I know! But on condition
+that they don't hear anything unpleasant. Aunt Welland put it in those
+very words when I tried.... Does no one want to know the truth here,
+Mr. Archer? The real loneliness is living among all these kind people
 who only ask one to pretend!" She lifted her hands to her face, and he
 saw her thin shoulders shaken by a sob.
 
 "Madame Olenska!--Oh, don't, Ellen," he cried, starting up and bending
-over her.  He drew down one of her hands, clasping and chafing it like
-a child's while he murmured reassuring words; but in a moment she freed
+over her. He drew down one of her hands, clasping and chafing it like a
+child's while he murmured reassuring words; but in a moment she freed
 herself, and looked up at him with wet lashes.
 
-"Does no one cry here, either?  I suppose there's no need to, in
+"Does no one cry here, either? I suppose there's no need to, in
 heaven," she said, straightening her loosened braids with a laugh, and
-bending over the tea-kettle.  It was burnt into his consciousness that
+bending over the tea-kettle. It was burnt into his consciousness that
 he had called her "Ellen"--called her so twice; and that she had not
-noticed it.  Far down the inverted telescope he saw the faint white
+noticed it. Far down the inverted telescope he saw the faint white
 figure of May Welland--in New York.
 
 Suddenly Nastasia put her head in to say something in her rich Italian.
 
 Madame Olenska, again with a hand at her hair, uttered an exclamation
 of assent--a flashing "Gia--gia"--and the Duke of St. Austrey entered,
-piloting a tremendous blackwigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing
+piloting a tremendous black-wigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing
 furs.
 
 "My dear Countess, I've brought an old friend of mine to see you--Mrs.
-Struthers.  She wasn't asked to the party last night, and she wants to
+Struthers. She wasn't asked to the party last night, and she wants to
 know you."
 
-The Duke beamed on the group, and Madame Olenska advanced with a murmur
-of welcome toward the queer couple.  She seemed to have no idea how
-oddly matched they were, nor what a liberty the Duke had taken in
+The Duke beamed on the group, and Madame Olenska advanced with a
+murmur of welcome toward the queer couple. She seemed to have no idea
+how oddly matched they were, nor what a liberty the Duke had taken in
 bringing his companion--and to do him justice, as Archer perceived, the
 Duke seemed as unaware of it himself.
 
 "Of course I want to know you, my dear," cried Mrs. Struthers in a
 round rolling voice that matched her bold feathers and her brazen wig.
 "I want to know everybody who's young and interesting and charming.
-And the Duke tells me you like music--didn't you, Duke?  You're a
-pianist yourself, I believe?  Well, do you want to hear Sarasate play
-tomorrow evening at my house?  You know I've something going on every
+And the Duke tells me you like music--didn't you, Duke? You're a
+pianist yourself, I believe? Well, do you want to hear Sarasate play
+tomorrow evening at my house? You know I've something going on every
 Sunday evening--it's the day when New York doesn't know what to do with
-itself, and so I say to it:  'Come and be amused.'  And the Duke
-thought you'd be tempted by Sarasate.  You'll find a number of your
-friends."
+itself, and so I say to it: 'Come and be amused.' And the Duke thought
+you'd be tempted by Sarasate. You'll find a number of your friends."
 
-Madame Olenska's face grew brilliant with pleasure.  "How kind!  How
-good of the Duke to think of me!" She pushed a chair up to the
-tea-table and Mrs. Struthers sank into it delectably.  "Of course I
-shall be too happy to come."
+Madame Olenska's face grew brilliant with pleasure. "How kind! How good
+of the Duke to think of me!" She pushed a chair up to the tea-table and
+Mrs. Struthers sank into it delectably. "Of course I shall be too happy
+to come."
 
-"That's all right, my dear.  And bring your young gentleman with you."
-Mrs. Struthers extended a hail-fellow hand to Archer.  "I can't put a
+"That's all right, my dear. And bring your young gentleman with you."
+Mrs. Struthers extended a hail-fellow hand to Archer. "I can't put a
 name to you--but I'm sure I've met you--I've met everybody, here, or in
-Paris or London.  Aren't you in diplomacy?  All the diplomatists come
-to me.  You like music too?  Duke, you must be sure to bring him."
+Paris or London. Aren't you in diplomacy? All the diplomatists come to
+me. You like music too? Duke, you must be sure to bring him."
 
 The Duke said "Rather" from the depths of his beard, and Archer
 withdrew with a stiffly circular bow that made him feel as full of
@@ -2404,16 +2378,16 @@ spine as a self-conscious school-boy among careless and unnoticing
 elders.
 
 He was not sorry for the denouement of his visit: he only wished it had
-come sooner, and spared him a certain waste of emotion.  As he went out
+come sooner, and spared him a certain waste of emotion. As he went out
 into the wintry night, New York again became vast and imminent, and May
-Welland the loveliest woman in it.  He turned into his florist's to
-send her the daily box of lilies-of-the-valley which, to his confusion,
-he found he had forgotten that morning.
+Welland the loveliest woman in it. He turned into his florist's to send
+her the daily box of lilies-of-the-valley which, to his confusion, he
+found he had forgotten that morning.
 
 As he wrote a word on his card and waited for an envelope he glanced
 about the embowered shop, and his eye lit on a cluster of yellow roses.
 He had never seen any as sun-golden before, and his first impulse was
-to send them to May instead of the lilies.  But they did not look like
+to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like
 her--there was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty.
 In a sudden revulsion of mood, and almost without knowing what he did,
 he signed to the florist to lay the roses in another long box, and
@@ -2427,60 +2401,62 @@ The florist assured him that they would.
 
 
 
+
 X.
 
+
 The next day he persuaded May to escape for a walk in the Park after
-luncheon.  As was the custom in old-fashioned Episcopalian New York,
-she usually accompanied her parents to church on Sunday afternoons; but
-Mrs. Welland condoned her truancy, having that very morning won her
-over to the necessity of a long engagement, with time to prepare a
+luncheon. As was the custom in old-fashioned Episcopalian New York,
+she usually accompanied her parents to church on Sunday afternoons;
+but Mrs. Welland condoned her truancy, having that very morning won
+her over to the necessity of a long engagement, with time to prepare a
 hand-embroidered trousseau containing the proper number of dozens.
 
-The day was delectable.  The bare vaulting of trees along the Mall was
-ceiled with lapis lazuli, and arched above snow that shone like
-splintered crystals.  It was the weather to call out May's radiance,
-and she burned like a young maple in the frost.  Archer was proud of
-the glances turned on her, and the simple joy of possessorship cleared
-away his underlying perplexities.
+The day was delectable. The bare vaulting of trees along the Mall
+was ceiled with lapis lazuli, and arched above snow that shone like
+splintered crystals. It was the weather to call out May's radiance, and
+she burned like a young maple in the frost. Archer was proud of the
+glances turned on her, and the simple joy of possessorship cleared away
+his underlying perplexities.
 
 "It's so delicious--waking every morning to smell lilies-of-the-valley
 in one's room!" she said.
 
-"Yesterday they came late.  I hadn't time in the morning--"
+"Yesterday they came late. I hadn't time in the morning--"
 
 "But your remembering each day to send them makes me love them so much
 more than if you'd given a standing order, and they came every morning
 on the minute, like one's music-teacher--as I know Gertrude Lefferts's
 did, for instance, when she and Lawrence were engaged."
 
-"Ah--they would!" laughed Archer, amused at her keenness.  He looked
+"Ah--they would!" laughed Archer, amused at her keenness. He looked
 sideways at her fruit-like cheek and felt rich and secure enough to
-add:  "When I sent your lilies yesterday afternoon I saw some rather
-gorgeous yellow roses and packed them off to Madame Olenska.  Was that
+add: "When I sent your lilies yesterday afternoon I saw some rather
+gorgeous yellow roses and packed them off to Madame Olenska. Was that
 right?"
 
-"How dear of you!  Anything of that kind delights her.  It's odd she
+"How dear of you! Anything of that kind delights her. It's odd she
 didn't mention it: she lunched with us today, and spoke of Mr.
 Beaufort's having sent her wonderful orchids, and cousin Henry van der
-Luyden a whole hamper of carnations from Skuytercliff.  She seems so
-surprised to receive flowers.  Don't people send them in Europe?  She
+Luyden a whole hamper of carnations from Skuytercliff. She seems so
+surprised to receive flowers. Don't people send them in Europe? She
 thinks it such a pretty custom."
 
 "Oh, well, no wonder mine were overshadowed by Beaufort's," said Archer
-irritably.  Then he remembered that he had not put a card with the
-roses, and was vexed at having spoken of them.  He wanted to say:  "I
-called on your cousin yesterday," but hesitated.  If Madame Olenska had
-not spoken of his visit it might seem awkward that he should.  Yet not
-to do so gave the affair an air of mystery that he disliked.  To shake
+irritably. Then he remembered that he had not put a card with the
+roses, and was vexed at having spoken of them. He wanted to say: "I
+called on your cousin yesterday," but hesitated. If Madame Olenska had
+not spoken of his visit it might seem awkward that he should. Yet not
+to do so gave the affair an air of mystery that he disliked. To shake
 off the question he began to talk of their own plans, their future, and
 Mrs. Welland's insistence on a long engagement.
 
-"If you call it long!  Isabel Chivers and Reggie were engaged for two
-years: Grace and Thorley for nearly a year and a half.  Why aren't we
+"If you call it long! Isabel Chivers and Reggie were engaged for two
+years: Grace and Thorley for nearly a year and a half. Why aren't we
 very well off as we are?"
 
 It was the traditional maidenly interrogation, and he felt ashamed of
-himself for finding it singularly childish.  No doubt she simply echoed
+himself for finding it singularly childish. No doubt she simply echoed
 what was said for her; but she was nearing her twenty-second birthday,
 and he wondered at what age "nice" women began to speak for themselves.
 
@@ -2489,34 +2465,34 @@ mad outburst to Mr. Sillerton Jackson: "Women ought to be as free as we
 are--"
 
 It would presently be his task to take the bandage from this young
-woman's eyes, and bid her look forth on the world.  But how many
+woman's eyes, and bid her look forth on the world. But how many
 generations of the women who had gone to her making had descended
-bandaged to the family vault?  He shivered a little, remembering some
-of the new ideas in his scientific books, and the much-cited instance
-of the Kentucky cave-fish, which had ceased to develop eyes because
-they had no use for them.  What if, when he had bidden May Welland to
-open hers, they could only look out blankly at blankness?
+bandaged to the family vault? He shivered a little, remembering some of
+the new ideas in his scientific books, and the much-cited instance of
+the Kentucky cave-fish, which had ceased to develop eyes because they
+had no use for them. What if, when he had bidden May Welland to open
+hers, they could only look out blankly at blankness?
 
-"We might be much better off.  We might be altogether together--we
-might travel."
+"We might be much better off. We might be altogether together--we might
+travel."
 
-Her face lit up.  "That would be lovely," she owned: she would love to
-travel.  But her mother would not understand their wanting to do things
+Her face lit up. "That would be lovely," she owned: she would love to
+travel. But her mother would not understand their wanting to do things
 so differently.
 
 "As if the mere 'differently' didn't account for it!" the wooer
 insisted.
 
-"Newland!  You're so original!" she exulted.
+"Newland! You're so original!" she exulted.
 
 His heart sank, for he saw that he was saying all the things that young
 men in the same situation were expected to say, and that she was making
 the answers that instinct and tradition taught her to make--even to the
 point of calling him original.
 
-"Original!  We're all as like each other as those dolls cut out of the
-same folded paper.  We're like patterns stencilled on a wall.  Can't
-you and I strike out for ourselves, May?"
+"Original! We're all as like each other as those dolls cut out of the
+same folded paper. We're like patterns stencilled on a wall. Can't you
+and I strike out for ourselves, May?"
 
 He had stopped and faced her in the excitement of their discussion, and
 her eyes rested on him with a bright unclouded admiration.
@@ -2525,7 +2501,7 @@ her eyes rested on him with a bright unclouded admiration.
 
 "If you would--"
 
-"You DO love me, Newland!  I'm so happy."
+"You _do_ love me, Newland! I'm so happy."
 
 "But then--why not be happier?"
 
@@ -2533,91 +2509,91 @@ her eyes rested on him with a bright unclouded admiration.
 
 "Why not--why not--why not?"
 
-She looked a little bored by his insistence.  She knew very well that
+She looked a little bored by his insistence. She knew very well that
 they couldn't, but it was troublesome to have to produce a reason.
-"I'm not clever enough to argue with you.  But that kind of thing is
+"I'm not clever enough to argue with you. But that kind of thing is
 rather--vulgar, isn't it?" she suggested, relieved to have hit on a
 word that would assuredly extinguish the whole subject.
 
 "Are you so much afraid, then, of being vulgar?"
 
-She was evidently staggered by this.  "Of course I should hate it--so
+She was evidently staggered by this. "Of course I should hate it--so
 would you," she rejoined, a trifle irritably.
 
-He stood silent, beating his stick nervously against his boot-top; and
-feeling that she had indeed found the right way of closing the
+He stood silent, beating his stick nervously against his boot-top;
+and feeling that she had indeed found the right way of closing the
 discussion, she went on light-heartedly: "Oh, did I tell you that I
-showed Ellen my ring?  She thinks it the most beautiful setting she
-ever saw.  There's nothing like it in the rue de la Paix, she said.  I
-do love you, Newland, for being so artistic!"
+showed Ellen my ring? She thinks it the most beautiful setting she ever
+saw. There's nothing like it in the rue de la Paix, she said. I do love
+you, Newland, for being so artistic!"
 
 
 The next afternoon, as Archer, before dinner, sat smoking sullenly in
-his study, Janey wandered in on him.  He had failed to stop at his club
+his study, Janey wandered in on him. He had failed to stop at his club
 on the way up from the office where he exercised the profession of the
 law in the leisurely manner common to well-to-do New Yorkers of his
-class.  He was out of spirits and slightly out of temper, and a
-haunting horror of doing the same thing every day at the same hour
-besieged his brain.
+class. He was out of spirits and slightly out of temper, and a haunting
+horror of doing the same thing every day at the same hour besieged his
+brain.
 
 "Sameness--sameness!" he muttered, the word running through his head
 like a persecuting tune as he saw the familiar tall-hatted figures
-lounging behind the plate-glass; and because he usually dropped in at
-the club at that hour he had gone home instead.  He knew not only what
-they were likely to be talking about, but the part each one would take
-in the discussion.  The Duke of course would be their principal theme;
-though the appearance in Fifth Avenue of a golden-haired lady in a
-small canary-coloured brougham with a pair of black cobs (for which
-Beaufort was generally thought responsible) would also doubtless be
-thoroughly gone into.  Such "women" (as they were called) were few in
-New York, those driving their own carriages still fewer, and the
+lounging behind the plate-glass; and because he usually dropped in
+at the club at that hour he had gone home instead. He knew not only
+what they were likely to be talking about, but the part each one would
+take in the discussion. The Duke of course would be their principal
+theme; though the appearance in Fifth Avenue of a golden-haired lady
+in a small canary-coloured brougham with a pair of black cobs (for
+which Beaufort was generally thought responsible) would also doubtless
+be thoroughly gone into. Such "women" (as they were called) were few
+in New York, those driving their own carriages still fewer, and the
 appearance of Miss Fanny Ring in Fifth Avenue at the fashionable hour
-had profoundly agitated society.  Only the day before, her carriage had
+had profoundly agitated society. Only the day before, her carriage had
 passed Mrs. Lovell Mingott's, and the latter had instantly rung the
 little bell at her elbow and ordered the coachman to drive her home.
 "What if it had happened to Mrs. van der Luyden?" people asked each
-other with a shudder.  Archer could hear Lawrence Lefferts, at that
-very hour, holding forth on the disintegration of society.
+other with a shudder. Archer could hear Lawrence Lefferts, at that very
+hour, holding forth on the disintegration of society.
 
 He raised his head irritably when his sister Janey entered, and then
-quickly bent over his book (Swinburne's "Chastelard"--just out) as if
-he had not seen her.  She glanced at the writing-table heaped with
+quickly bent over his book (Swinburne's "Chastelard"--just out) as
+if he had not seen her. She glanced at the writing-table heaped with
 books, opened a volume of the "Contes Drolatiques," made a wry face
-over the archaic French, and sighed:  "What learned things you read!"
+over the archaic French, and sighed: "What learned things you read!"
 
 "Well--?" he asked, as she hovered Cassandra-like before him.
 
 "Mother's very angry."
 
-"Angry?  With whom?  About what?"
+"Angry? With whom? About what?"
 
-"Miss Sophy Jackson has just been here.  She brought word that her
+"Miss Sophy Jackson has just been here. She brought word that her
 brother would come in after dinner: she couldn't say very much, because
-he forbade her to: he wishes to give all the details himself.  He's
-with cousin Louisa van der Luyden now."
+he forbade her to: he wishes to give all the details himself. He's with
+cousin Louisa van der Luyden now."
 
-"For heaven's sake, my dear girl, try a fresh start.  It would take an
+"For heaven's sake, my dear girl, try a fresh start. It would take an
 omniscient Deity to know what you're talking about."
 
-"It's not a time to be profane, Newland....  Mother feels badly enough
+"It's not a time to be profane, Newland.... Mother feels badly enough
 about your not going to church ..."
 
 With a groan he plunged back into his book.
 
-"NEWLAND!  Do listen.  Your friend Madame Olenska was at Mrs. Lemuel
+"_Newland_! Do listen. Your friend Madame Olenska was at Mrs. Lemuel
 Struthers's party last night: she went there with the Duke and Mr.
 Beaufort."
 
 At the last clause of this announcement a senseless anger swelled the
-young man's breast.  To smother it he laughed.  "Well, what of it?  I
-knew she meant to."
+young man's breast. To smother it he laughed. "Well, what of it? I knew
+she meant to."
 
-Janey paled and her eyes began to project.  "You knew she meant to--and
-you didn't try to stop her?  To warn her?"
+Janey paled and her eyes began to project. "You knew she meant to--and
+you didn't try to stop her? To warn her?"
 
-"Stop her?  Warn her?"  He laughed again.  "I'm not engaged to be
-married to the Countess Olenska!"  The words had a fantastic sound in
-his own ears.
+"Stop her? Warn her?" He laughed again. "I'm not engaged to be married
+to the Countess Olenska!" The words had a fantastic sound in his own
+ears.
 
 "You're marrying into her family."
 
@@ -2633,30 +2609,30 @@ his own ears.
 
 "Mother is not an old maid," said his virgin sister with pinched lips.
 
-He felt like shouting back:  "Yes, she is, and so are the van der
+He felt like shouting back: "Yes, she is, and so are the van der
 Luydens, and so we all are, when it comes to being so much as brushed
 by the wing-tip of Reality." But he saw her long gentle face puckering
 into tears, and felt ashamed of the useless pain he was inflicting.
 
-"Hang Countess Olenska!  Don't be a goose, Janey--I'm not her keeper."
+"Hang Countess Olenska! Don't be a goose, Janey--I'm not her keeper."
 
-"No; but you DID ask the Wellands to announce your engagement sooner so
-that we might all back her up; and if it hadn't been for that cousin
+"No; but you _did_ ask the Wellands to announce your engagement sooner
+so that we might all back her up; and if it hadn't been for that cousin
 Louisa would never have invited her to the dinner for the Duke."
 
-"Well--what harm was there in inviting her?  She was the best-looking
+"Well--what harm was there in inviting her? She was the best-looking
 woman in the room; she made the dinner a little less funereal than the
 usual van der Luyden banquet."
 
-"You know cousin Henry asked her to please you: he persuaded cousin
-Louisa.  And now they're so upset that they're going back to
-Skuytercliff tomorrow.  I think, Newland, you'd better come down.  You
+"You know cousin Henry asked her to please you: he persuaded
+cousin Louisa. And now they're so upset that they're going back to
+Skuytercliff tomorrow. I think, Newland, you'd better come down. You
 don't seem to understand how mother feels."
 
-In the drawing-room Newland found his mother.  She raised a troubled
+In the drawing-room Newland found his mother. She raised a troubled
 brow from her needlework to ask: "Has Janey told you?"
 
-"Yes."  He tried to keep his tone as measured as her own.  "But I can't
+"Yes." He tried to keep his tone as measured as her own. "But I can't
 take it very seriously."
 
 "Not the fact of having offended cousin Louisa and cousin Henry?"
@@ -2669,9 +2645,9 @@ Olenska's going to the house of a woman they consider common."
 "Well, who is; but who has good music, and amuses people on Sunday
 evenings, when the whole of New York is dying of inanition."
 
-"Good music?  All I know is, there was a woman who got up on a table
-and sang the things they sing at the places you go to in Paris.  There
-was smoking and champagne."
+"Good music? All I know is, there was a woman who got up on a table and
+sang the things they sing at the places you go to in Paris. There was
+smoking and champagne."
 
 "Well--that kind of thing happens in other places, and the world still
 goes on."
@@ -2685,40 +2661,40 @@ when we've been in London."
 
 "Oh, no, it's not!" her son groaned.
 
-"You mean, I suppose, that society here is not as brilliant?  You're
+"You mean, I suppose, that society here is not as brilliant? You're
 right, I daresay; but we belong here, and people should respect our
-ways when they come among us.  Ellen Olenska especially: she came back
+ways when they come among us. Ellen Olenska especially: she came back
 to get away from the kind of life people lead in brilliant societies."
 
-Newland made no answer, and after a moment his mother ventured:  "I was
+Newland made no answer, and after a moment his mother ventured: "I was
 going to put on my bonnet and ask you to take me to see cousin Louisa
-for a moment before dinner."  He frowned, and she continued: "I thought
-you might explain to her what you've just said: that society abroad is
-different ... that people are not as particular, and that Madame
-Olenska may not have realised how we feel about such things.  It would
+for a moment before dinner." He frowned, and she continued: "I thought
+you might explain to her what you've just said: that society abroad
+is different ... that people are not as particular, and that Madame
+Olenska may not have realised how we feel about such things. It would
 be, you know, dear," she added with an innocent adroitness, "in Madame
 Olenska's interest if you did."
 
 "Dearest mother, I really don't see how we're concerned in the matter.
 The Duke took Madame Olenska to Mrs. Struthers's--in fact he brought
-Mrs. Struthers to call on her.  I was there when they came.  If the van
+Mrs. Struthers to call on her. I was there when they came. If the van
 der Luydens want to quarrel with anybody, the real culprit is under
 their own roof."
 
-"Quarrel?  Newland, did you ever know of cousin Henry's quarrelling?
-Besides, the Duke's his guest; and a stranger too.  Strangers don't
-discriminate: how should they?  Countess Olenska is a New Yorker, and
+"Quarrel? Newland, did you ever know of cousin Henry's quarrelling?
+Besides, the Duke's his guest; and a stranger too. Strangers don't
+discriminate: how should they? Countess Olenska is a New Yorker, and
 should have respected the feelings of New York."
 
 "Well, then, if they must have a victim, you have my leave to throw
-Madame Olenska to them," cried her son, exasperated.  "I don't see
+Madame Olenska to them," cried her son, exasperated. "I don't see
 myself--or you either--offering ourselves up to expiate her crimes."
 
 "Oh, of course you see only the Mingott side," his mother answered, in
 the sensitive tone that was her nearest approach to anger.
 
-The sad butler drew back the drawing-room portieres and announced:
-"Mr. Henry van der Luyden."
+The sad butler drew back the drawing-room portières and announced: "Mr.
+Henry van der Luyden."
 
 Mrs. Archer dropped her needle and pushed her chair back with an
 agitated hand.
@@ -2731,26 +2707,26 @@ went forward to greet his cousin.
 
 "We were just talking about you, sir," he said.
 
-Mr. van der Luyden seemed overwhelmed by the announcement.  He drew off
+Mr. van der Luyden seemed overwhelmed by the announcement. He drew off
 his glove to shake hands with the ladies, and smoothed his tall hat
 shyly, while Janey pushed an arm-chair forward, and Archer continued:
 "And the Countess Olenska."
 
 Mrs. Archer paled.
 
-"Ah--a charming woman.  I have just been to see her," said Mr. van der
-Luyden, complacency restored to his brow.  He sank into the chair, laid
+"Ah--a charming woman. I have just been to see her," said Mr. van der
+Luyden, complacency restored to his brow. He sank into the chair, laid
 his hat and gloves on the floor beside him in the old-fashioned way,
-and went on:  "She has a real gift for arranging flowers.  I had sent
-her a few carnations from Skuytercliff, and I was astonished.  Instead
+and went on: "She has a real gift for arranging flowers. I had sent
+her a few carnations from Skuytercliff, and I was astonished. Instead
 of massing them in big bunches as our head-gardener does, she had
-scattered them about loosely, here and there ... I can't say how.  The
-Duke had told me: he said:  'Go and see how cleverly she's arranged her
-drawing-room.'  And she has.  I should really like to take Louisa to
-see her, if the neighbourhood were not so--unpleasant."
+scattered them about loosely, here and there ... I can't say how. The
+Duke had told me: he said: 'Go and see how cleverly she's arranged her
+drawing-room.' And she has. I should really like to take Louisa to see
+her, if the neighbourhood were not so--unpleasant."
 
 A dead silence greeted this unusual flow of words from Mr. van der
-Luyden.  Mrs. Archer drew her embroidery out of the basket into which
+Luyden. Mrs. Archer drew her embroidery out of the basket into which
 she had nervously tumbled it, and Newland, leaning against the
 chimney-place and twisting a humming-bird-feather screen in his hand,
 saw Janey's gaping countenance lit up by the coming of the second lamp.
@@ -2760,133 +2736,134 @@ with a bloodless hand weighed down by the Patroon's great signet-ring,
 "the fact is, I dropped in to thank her for the very pretty note she
 wrote me about my flowers; and also--but this is between ourselves, of
 course--to give her a friendly warning about allowing the Duke to carry
-her off to parties with him.  I don't know if you've heard--"
+her off to parties with him. I don't know if you've heard--"
 
-Mrs. Archer produced an indulgent smile.  "Has the Duke been carrying
+Mrs. Archer produced an indulgent smile. "Has the Duke been carrying
 her off to parties?"
 
-"You know what these English grandees are.  They're all alike.  Louisa
+"You know what these English grandees are. They're all alike. Louisa
 and I are very fond of our cousin--but it's hopeless to expect people
 who are accustomed to the European courts to trouble themselves about
-our little republican distinctions.  The Duke goes where he's amused."
-Mr. van der Luyden paused, but no one spoke.  "Yes--it seems he took
-her with him last night to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's.  Sillerton Jackson
-has just been to us with the foolish story, and Louisa was rather
-troubled.  So I thought the shortest way was to go straight to Countess
-Olenska and explain--by the merest hint, you know--how we feel in New
-York about certain things.  I felt I might, without indelicacy, because
-the evening she dined with us she rather suggested ... rather let me
-see that she would be grateful for guidance.  And she WAS."
+our little republican distinctions. The Duke goes where he's amused."
+Mr. van der Luyden paused, but no one spoke. "Yes--it seems he took her
+with him last night to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's. Sillerton Jackson has
+just been to us with the foolish story, and Louisa was rather troubled.
+So I thought the shortest way was to go straight to Countess Olenska
+and explain--by the merest hint, you know--how we feel in New York
+about certain things. I felt I might, without indelicacy, because the
+evening she dined with us she rather suggested ... rather let me see
+that she would be grateful for guidance. And she _was_."
 
 Mr. van der Luyden looked about the room with what would have been
-self-satisfaction on features less purged of the vulgar passions.  On
+self-satisfaction on features less purged of the vulgar passions. On
 his face it became a mild benevolence which Mrs. Archer's countenance
 dutifully reflected.
 
-"How kind you both are, dear Henry--always!  Newland will particularly
+"How kind you both are, dear Henry--always! Newland will particularly
 appreciate what you have done because of dear May and his new
 relations."
 
 She shot an admonitory glance at her son, who said: "Immensely, sir.
 But I was sure you'd like Madame Olenska."
 
-Mr. van der Luyden looked at him with extreme gentleness.  "I never ask
+Mr. van der Luyden looked at him with extreme gentleness. "I never ask
 to my house, my dear Newland," he said, "any one whom I do not like.
-And so I have just told Sillerton Jackson."  With a glance at the clock
-he rose and added:  "But Louisa will be waiting.  We are dining early,
-to take the Duke to the Opera."
+And so I have just told Sillerton Jackson." With a glance at the clock
+he rose and added: "But Louisa will be waiting. We are dining early, to
+take the Duke to the Opera."
 
-After the portieres had solemnly closed behind their visitor a silence
+After the portières had solemnly closed behind their visitor a silence
 fell upon the Archer family.
 
-"Gracious--how romantic!" at last broke explosively from Janey.  No one
+"Gracious--how romantic!" at last broke explosively from Janey. No one
 knew exactly what inspired her elliptic comments, and her relations had
 long since given up trying to interpret them.
 
-Mrs. Archer shook her head with a sigh.  "Provided it all turns out for
+Mrs. Archer shook her head with a sigh. "Provided it all turns out for
 the best," she said, in the tone of one who knows how surely it will
-not.  "Newland, you must stay and see Sillerton Jackson when he comes
+not. "Newland, you must stay and see Sillerton Jackson when he comes
 this evening: I really shan't know what to say to him."
 
-"Poor mother!  But he won't come--" her son laughed, stooping to kiss
+"Poor mother! But he won't come--" her son laughed, stooping to kiss
 away her frown.
 
 
 
+
 XI.
 
+
 Some two weeks later, Newland Archer, sitting in abstracted idleness in
 his private compartment of the office of Letterblair, Lamson and Low,
 attorneys at law, was summoned by the head of the firm.
 
 Old Mr. Letterblair, the accredited legal adviser of three generations
 of New York gentility, throned behind his mahogany desk in evident
-perplexity.  As he stroked his closeclipped white whiskers and ran his
-hand through the rumpled grey locks above his jutting brows, his
+perplexity. As he stroked his close-clipped white whiskers and ran
+his hand through the rumpled grey locks above his jutting brows, his
 disrespectful junior partner thought how much he looked like the Family
 Physician annoyed with a patient whose symptoms refuse to be classified.
 
-"My dear sir--" he always addressed Archer as "sir"--"I have sent for
-you to go into a little matter; a matter which, for the moment, I
-prefer not to mention either to Mr. Skipworth or Mr. Redwood."  The
+"My dear sir--" he always addressed Archer as "sir"--"I have sent
+for you to go into a little matter; a matter which, for the moment,
+I prefer not to mention either to Mr. Skipworth or Mr. Redwood." The
 gentlemen he spoke of were the other senior partners of the firm; for,
 as was always the case with legal associations of old standing in New
 York, all the partners named on the office letter-head were long since
 dead; and Mr. Letterblair, for example, was, professionally speaking,
 his own grandson.
 
-He leaned back in his chair with a furrowed brow.  "For family
+He leaned back in his chair with a furrowed brow. "For family
 reasons--" he continued.
 
 Archer looked up.
 
 "The Mingott family," said Mr. Letterblair with an explanatory smile
-and bow.  "Mrs. Manson Mingott sent for me yesterday.  Her
-grand-daughter the Countess Olenska wishes to sue her husband for
-divorce.  Certain papers have been placed in my hands."  He paused and
-drummed on his desk.  "In view of your prospective alliance with the
-family I should like to consult you--to consider the case with
-you--before taking any farther steps."
-
-Archer felt the blood in his temples.  He had seen the Countess Olenska
+and bow. "Mrs. Manson Mingott sent for me yesterday. Her grand-daughter
+the Countess Olenska wishes to sue her husband for divorce. Certain
+papers have been placed in my hands." He paused and drummed on his
+desk. "In view of your prospective alliance with the family I should
+like to consult you--to consider the case with you--before taking any
+farther steps."
+
+Archer felt the blood in his temples. He had seen the Countess Olenska
 only once since his visit to her, and then at the Opera, in the Mingott
-box.  During this interval she had become a less vivid and importunate
+box. During this interval she had become a less vivid and importunate
 image, receding from his foreground as May Welland resumed her rightful
-place in it.  He had not heard her divorce spoken of since Janey's
-first random allusion to it, and had dismissed the tale as unfounded
-gossip.  Theoretically, the idea of divorce was almost as distasteful
-to him as to his mother; and he was annoyed that Mr. Letterblair (no
-doubt prompted by old Catherine Mingott) should be so evidently
-planning to draw him into the affair.  After all, there were plenty of
-Mingott men for such jobs, and as yet he was not even a Mingott by
-marriage.
-
-He waited for the senior partner to continue.  Mr. Letterblair unlocked
-a drawer and drew out a packet.  "If you will run your eye over these
+place in it. He had not heard her divorce spoken of since Janey's first
+random allusion to it, and had dismissed the tale as unfounded gossip.
+Theoretically, the idea of divorce was almost as distasteful to him
+as to his mother; and he was annoyed that Mr. Letterblair (no doubt
+prompted by old Catherine Mingott) should be so evidently planning to
+draw him into the affair. After all, there were plenty of Mingott men
+for such jobs, and as yet he was not even a Mingott by marriage.
+
+He waited for the senior partner to continue. Mr. Letterblair unlocked
+a drawer and drew out a packet. "If you will run your eye over these
 papers--"
 
-Archer frowned.  "I beg your pardon, sir; but just because of the
+Archer frowned. "I beg your pardon, sir; but just because of the
 prospective relationship, I should prefer your consulting Mr. Skipworth
 or Mr. Redwood."
 
-Mr. Letterblair looked surprised and slightly offended.  It was unusual
+Mr. Letterblair looked surprised and slightly offended. It was unusual
 for a junior to reject such an opening.
 
-He bowed.  "I respect your scruple, sir; but in this case I believe
-true delicacy requires you to do as I ask.  Indeed, the suggestion is
-not mine but Mrs. Manson Mingott's and her son's.  I have seen Lovell
-Mingott; and also Mr. Welland.  They all named you."
+He bowed. "I respect your scruple, sir; but in this case I believe
+true delicacy requires you to do as I ask. Indeed, the suggestion is
+not mine but Mrs. Manson Mingott's and her son's. I have seen Lovell
+Mingott; and also Mr. Welland. They all named you."
 
-Archer felt his temper rising.  He had been somewhat languidly drifting
+Archer felt his temper rising. He had been somewhat languidly drifting
 with events for the last fortnight, and letting May's fair looks and
 radiant nature obliterate the rather importunate pressure of the
-Mingott claims.  But this behest of old Mrs. Mingott's roused him to a
-sense of what the clan thought they had the right to exact from a
+Mingott claims. But this behest of old Mrs. Mingott's roused him to
+a sense of what the clan thought they had the right to exact from a
 prospective son-in-law; and he chafed at the role.
 
 "Her uncles ought to deal with this," he said.
 
-"They have.  The matter has been gone into by the family.  They are
+"They have. The matter has been gone into by the family. They are
 opposed to the Countess's idea; but she is firm, and insists on a legal
 opinion."
 
@@ -2902,34 +2879,34 @@ The young man was silent: he had not opened the packet in his hand.
 Afterward, when we have talked the case over, I will give you my
 opinion."
 
-Archer withdrew reluctantly with the unwelcome documents.  Since their
+Archer withdrew reluctantly with the unwelcome documents. Since their
 last meeting he had half-unconsciously collaborated with events in
-ridding himself of the burden of Madame Olenska.  His hour alone with
+ridding himself of the burden of Madame Olenska. His hour alone with
 her by the firelight had drawn them into a momentary intimacy on which
 the Duke of St. Austrey's intrusion with Mrs. Lemuel Struthers, and the
 Countess's joyous greeting of them, had rather providentially broken.
 Two days later Archer had assisted at the comedy of her reinstatement
-in the van der Luydens' favour, and had said to himself, with a touch
-of tartness, that a lady who knew how to thank all-powerful elderly
-gentlemen to such good purpose for a bunch of flowers did not need
-either the private consolations or the public championship of a young
-man of his small compass.  To look at the matter in this light
-simplified his own case and surprisingly furbished up all the dim
-domestic virtues.  He could not picture May Welland, in whatever
+in the van der Luydens' favour, and had said to himself, with a
+touch of tartness, that a lady who knew how to thank all-powerful
+elderly gentlemen to such good purpose for a bunch of flowers did
+not need either the private consolations or the public championship
+of a young man of his small compass. To look at the matter in this
+light simplified his own case and surprisingly furbished up all the
+dim domestic virtues. He could not picture May Welland, in whatever
 conceivable emergency, hawking about her private difficulties and
-lavishing her confidences on strange men; and she had never seemed to
-him finer or fairer than in the week that followed.  He had even
+lavishing her confidences on strange men; and she had never seemed
+to him finer or fairer than in the week that followed. He had even
 yielded to her wish for a long engagement, since she had found the one
 disarming answer to his plea for haste.
 
 "You know, when it comes to the point, your parents have always let you
 have your way ever since you were a little girl," he argued; and she
-had answered, with her clearest look:  "Yes; and that's what makes it
-so hard to refuse the very last thing they'll ever ask of me as a
-little girl."
+had answered, with her clearest look: "Yes; and that's what makes it so
+hard to refuse the very last thing they'll ever ask of me as a little
+girl."
 
 That was the old New York note; that was the kind of answer he would
-like always to be sure of his wife's making.  If one had habitually
+like always to be sure of his wife's making. If one had habitually
 breathed the New York air there were times when anything less
 crystalline seemed stifling.
 
@@ -2937,26 +2914,26 @@ crystalline seemed stifling.
 The papers he had retired to read did not tell him much in fact; but
 they plunged him into an atmosphere in which he choked and spluttered.
 They consisted mainly of an exchange of letters between Count Olenski's
-solicitors and a French legal firm to whom the Countess had applied for
-the settlement of her financial situation.  There was also a short
+solicitors and a French legal firm to whom the Countess had applied
+for the settlement of her financial situation. There was also a short
 letter from the Count to his wife: after reading it, Newland Archer
 rose, jammed the papers back into their envelope, and reentered Mr.
 Letterblair's office.
 
-"Here are the letters, sir.  If you wish, I'll see Madame Olenska," he
+"Here are the letters, sir. If you wish, I'll see Madame Olenska," he
 said in a constrained voice.
 
-"Thank you--thank you, Mr. Archer.  Come and dine with me tonight if
+"Thank you--thank you, Mr. Archer. Come and dine with me tonight if
 you're free, and we'll go into the matter afterward: in case you wish
 to call on our client tomorrow."
 
-Newland Archer walked straight home again that afternoon.  It was a
+Newland Archer walked straight home again that afternoon. It was a
 winter evening of transparent clearness, with an innocent young moon
 above the house-tops; and he wanted to fill his soul's lungs with the
 pure radiance, and not exchange a word with any one till he and Mr.
-Letterblair were closeted together after dinner.  It was impossible to
+Letterblair were closeted together after dinner. It was impossible to
 decide otherwise than he had done: he must see Madame Olenska himself
-rather than let her secrets be bared to other eyes.  A great wave of
+rather than let her secrets be bared to other eyes. A great wave of
 compassion had swept away his indifference and impatience: she stood
 before him as an exposed and pitiful figure, to be saved at all costs
 from farther wounding herself in her mad plunges against fate.
@@ -2964,88 +2941,88 @@ from farther wounding herself in her mad plunges against fate.
 He remembered what she had told him of Mrs. Welland's request to be
 spared whatever was "unpleasant" in her history, and winced at the
 thought that it was perhaps this attitude of mind which kept the New
-York air so pure.  "Are we only Pharisees after all?" he wondered,
+York air so pure. "Are we only Pharisees after all?" he wondered,
 puzzled by the effort to reconcile his instinctive disgust at human
 vileness with his equally instinctive pity for human frailty.
 
-For the first time he perceived how elementary his own principles had
-always been.  He passed for a young man who had not been afraid of
-risks, and he knew that his secret love-affair with poor silly Mrs.
-Thorley Rushworth had not been too secret to invest him with a becoming
-air of adventure.  But Mrs. Rushworth was "that kind of woman";
+For the first time he perceived how elementary his own principles
+had always been. He passed for a young man who had not been afraid
+of risks, and he knew that his secret love-affair with poor silly
+Mrs. Thorley Rushworth had not been too secret to invest him with a
+becoming air of adventure. But Mrs. Rushworth was "that kind of woman";
 foolish, vain, clandestine by nature, and far more attracted by the
-secrecy and peril of the affair than by such charms and qualities as he
-possessed.  When the fact dawned on him it nearly broke his heart, but
-now it seemed the redeeming feature of the case.  The affair, in short,
-had been of the kind that most of the young men of his age had been
-through, and emerged from with calm consciences and an undisturbed
+secrecy and peril of the affair than by such charms and qualities as
+he possessed. When the fact dawned on him it nearly broke his heart,
+but now it seemed the redeeming feature of the case. The affair, in
+short, had been of the kind that most of the young men of his age had
+been through, and emerged from with calm consciences and an undisturbed
 belief in the abysmal distinction between the women one loved and
-respected and those one enjoyed--and pitied.  In this view they were
+respected and those one enjoyed--and pitied. In this view they were
 sedulously abetted by their mothers, aunts and other elderly female
 relatives, who all shared Mrs. Archer's belief that when "such things
 happened" it was undoubtedly foolish of the man, but somehow always
-criminal of the woman.  All the elderly ladies whom Archer knew
-regarded any woman who loved imprudently as necessarily unscrupulous
-and designing, and mere simple-minded man as powerless in her clutches.
-The only thing to do was to persuade him, as early as possible, to
-marry a nice girl, and then trust to her to look after him.
+criminal of the woman. All the elderly ladies whom Archer knew regarded
+any woman who loved imprudently as necessarily unscrupulous and
+designing, and mere simple-minded man as powerless in her clutches. The
+only thing to do was to persuade him, as early as possible, to marry a
+nice girl, and then trust to her to look after him.
 
 In the complicated old European communities, Archer began to guess,
-love-problems might be less simple and less easily classified.  Rich
-and idle and ornamental societies must produce many more such
-situations; and there might even be one in which a woman naturally
-sensitive and aloof would yet, from the force of circumstances, from
-sheer defencelessness and loneliness, be drawn into a tie inexcusable
-by conventional standards.
+love-problems might be less simple and less easily classified. Rich and
+idle and ornamental societies must produce many more such situations;
+and there might even be one in which a woman naturally sensitive
+and aloof would yet, from the force of circumstances, from sheer
+defencelessness and loneliness, be drawn into a tie inexcusable by
+conventional standards.
 
 On reaching home he wrote a line to the Countess Olenska, asking at
-what hour of the next day she could receive him, and despatched it by a
-messenger-boy, who returned presently with a word to the effect that
+what hour of the next day she could receive him, and despatched it by
+a messenger-boy, who returned presently with a word to the effect that
 she was going to Skuytercliff the next morning to stay over Sunday with
 the van der Luydens, but that he would find her alone that evening
-after dinner.  The note was written on a rather untidy half-sheet,
-without date or address, but her hand was firm and free.  He was amused
+after dinner. The note was written on a rather untidy half-sheet,
+without date or address, but her hand was firm and free. He was amused
 at the idea of her week-ending in the stately solitude of Skuytercliff,
 but immediately afterward felt that there, of all places, she would
 most feel the chill of minds rigorously averted from the "unpleasant."
 
 
 He was at Mr. Letterblair's punctually at seven, glad of the pretext
-for excusing himself soon after dinner.  He had formed his own opinion
+for excusing himself soon after dinner. He had formed his own opinion
 from the papers entrusted to him, and did not especially want to go
-into the matter with his senior partner.  Mr. Letterblair was a
-widower, and they dined alone, copiously and slowly, in a dark shabby
-room hung with yellowing prints of "The Death of Chatham" and "The
-Coronation of Napoleon."  On the sideboard, between fluted Sheraton
-knife-cases, stood a decanter of Haut Brion, and another of the old
-Lanning port (the gift of a client), which the wastrel Tom Lanning had
-sold off a year or two before his mysterious and discreditable death in
-San Francisco--an incident less publicly humiliating to the family than
-the sale of the cellar.
+into the matter with his senior partner. Mr. Letterblair was a widower,
+and they dined alone, copiously and slowly, in a dark shabby room hung
+with yellowing prints of "The Death of Chatham" and "The Coronation of
+Napoleon." On the sideboard, between fluted Sheraton knife-cases, stood
+a decanter of Haut Brion, and another of the old Lanning port (the gift
+of a client), which the wastrel Tom Lanning had sold off a year or two
+before his mysterious and discreditable death in San Francisco--an
+incident less publicly humiliating to the family than the sale of the
+cellar.
 
 After a velvety oyster soup came shad and cucumbers, then a young
 broiled turkey with corn fritters, followed by a canvas-back with
-currant jelly and a celery mayonnaise.  Mr. Letterblair, who lunched on
-a sandwich and tea, dined deliberately and deeply, and insisted on his
-guest's doing the same.  Finally, when the closing rites had been
-accomplished, the cloth was removed, cigars were lit, and Mr.
+currant jelly and a celery mayonnaise. Mr. Letterblair, who lunched
+on a sandwich and tea, dined deliberately and deeply, and insisted
+on his guest's doing the same. Finally, when the closing rites had
+been accomplished, the cloth was removed, cigars were lit, and Mr.
 Letterblair, leaning back in his chair and pushing the port westward,
-said, spreading his back agreeably to the coal fire behind him:  "The
-whole family are against a divorce.  And I think rightly."
+said, spreading his back agreeably to the coal fire behind him: "The
+whole family are against a divorce. And I think rightly."
 
-Archer instantly felt himself on the other side of the argument.  "But
-why, sir?  If there ever was a case--"
+Archer instantly felt himself on the other side of the argument. "But
+why, sir? If there ever was a case--"
 
-"Well--what's the use?  SHE'S here--he's there; the Atlantic's between
-them.  She'll never get back a dollar more of her money than what he's
+"Well--what's the use? _she's_ here--he's there; the Atlantic's between
+them. She'll never get back a dollar more of her money than what he's
 voluntarily returned to her: their damned heathen marriage settlements
-take precious good care of that.  As things go over there, Olenski's
+take precious good care of that. As things go over there, Olenski's
 acted generously: he might have turned her out without a penny."
 
 The young man knew this and was silent.
 
 "I understand, though," Mr. Letterblair continued, "that she attaches
-no importance to the money.  Therefore, as the family say, why not let
+no importance to the money. Therefore, as the family say, why not let
 well enough alone?"
 
 Archer had gone to the house an hour earlier in full agreement with Mr.
@@ -3057,8 +3034,8 @@ a society wholly absorbed in barricading itself against the unpleasant.
 
 "H'm--have you considered the consequences if she decides for divorce?"
 
-"You mean the threat in her husband's letter?  What weight would that
-carry?  It's no more than the vague charge of an angry blackguard."
+"You mean the threat in her husband's letter? What weight would that
+carry? It's no more than the vague charge of an angry blackguard."
 
 "Yes; but it might make some unpleasant talk if he really defends the
 suit."
@@ -3067,7 +3044,7 @@ suit."
 
 Mr. Letterblair looked at him from under enquiring eyebrows, and the
 young man, aware of the uselessness of trying to explain what was in
-his mind, bowed acquiescently while his senior continued:  "Divorce is
+his mind, bowed acquiescently while his senior continued: "Divorce is
 always unpleasant."
 
 "You agree with me?" Mr. Letterblair resumed, after a waiting silence.
@@ -3077,11 +3054,11 @@ always unpleasant."
 "Well, then, I may count on you; the Mingotts may count on you; to use
 your influence against the idea?"
 
-Archer hesitated.  "I can't pledge myself till I've seen the Countess
+Archer hesitated. "I can't pledge myself till I've seen the Countess
 Olenska," he said at length.
 
-"Mr. Archer, I don't understand you.  Do you want to marry into a
-family with a scandalous divorce-suit hanging over it?"
+"Mr. Archer, I don't understand you. Do you want to marry into a family
+with a scandalous divorce-suit hanging over it?"
 
 "I don't think that has anything to do with the case."
 
@@ -3089,9 +3066,9 @@ Mr. Letterblair put down his glass of port and fixed on his young
 partner a cautious and apprehensive gaze.
 
 Archer understood that he ran the risk of having his mandate withdrawn,
-and for some obscure reason he disliked the prospect.  Now that the job
-had been thrust on him he did not propose to relinquish it; and, to
-guard against the possibility, he saw that he must reassure the
+and for some obscure reason he disliked the prospect. Now that the
+job had been thrust on him he did not propose to relinquish it; and,
+to guard against the possibility, he saw that he must reassure the
 unimaginative old man who was the legal conscience of the Mingotts.
 
 "You may be sure, sir, that I shan't commit myself till I've reported
@@ -3104,60 +3081,62 @@ pleaded an engagement and took leave.
 
 
 
+
 XII.
 
+
 Old-fashioned New York dined at seven, and the habit of after-dinner
-calls, though derided in Archer's set, still generally prevailed.  As
+calls, though derided in Archer's set, still generally prevailed. As
 the young man strolled up Fifth Avenue from Waverley Place, the long
 thoroughfare was deserted but for a group of carriages standing before
 the Reggie Chiverses' (where there was a dinner for the Duke), and the
 occasional figure of an elderly gentleman in heavy overcoat and muffler
 ascending a brownstone doorstep and disappearing into a gas-lit hall.
-Thus, as Archer crossed Washington Square, he remarked that old Mr. du
-Lac was calling on his cousins the Dagonets, and turning down the
+Thus, as Archer crossed Washington Square, he remarked that old Mr.
+du Lac was calling on his cousins the Dagonets, and turning down the
 corner of West Tenth Street he saw Mr. Skipworth, of his own firm,
-obviously bound on a visit to the Miss Lannings.  A little farther up
+obviously bound on a visit to the Miss Lannings. A little farther up
 Fifth Avenue, Beaufort appeared on his doorstep, darkly projected
 against a blaze of light, descended to his private brougham, and rolled
-away to a mysterious and probably unmentionable destination.  It was
+away to a mysterious and probably unmentionable destination. It was
 not an Opera night, and no one was giving a party, so that Beaufort's
-outing was undoubtedly of a clandestine nature.  Archer connected it in
-his mind with a little house beyond Lexington Avenue in which
+outing was undoubtedly of a clandestine nature. Archer connected it
+in his mind with a little house beyond Lexington Avenue in which
 beribboned window curtains and flower-boxes had recently appeared, and
 before whose newly painted door the canary-coloured brougham of Miss
 Fanny Ring was frequently seen to wait.
 
 Beyond the small and slippery pyramid which composed Mrs. Archer's
 world lay the almost unmapped quarter inhabited by artists, musicians
-and "people who wrote."  These scattered fragments of humanity had
-never shown any desire to be amalgamated with the social structure.  In
-spite of odd ways they were said to be, for the most part, quite
-respectable; but they preferred to keep to themselves.  Medora Manson,
+and "people who wrote." These scattered fragments of humanity had
+never shown any desire to be amalgamated with the social structure.
+In spite of odd ways they were said to be, for the most part, quite
+respectable; but they preferred to keep to themselves. Medora Manson,
 in her prosperous days, had inaugurated a "literary salon"; but it had
 soon died out owing to the reluctance of the literary to frequent it.
 
 Others had made the same attempt, and there was a household of
-Blenkers--an intense and voluble mother, and three blowsy daughters who
-imitated her--where one met Edwin Booth and Patti and William Winter,
-and the new Shakespearian actor George Rignold, and some of the
+Blenkers--an intense and voluble mother, and three blowsy daughters
+who imitated her--where one met Edwin Booth and Patti and William
+Winter, and the new Shakespearian actor George Rignold, and some of the
 magazine editors and musical and literary critics.
 
 Mrs. Archer and her group felt a certain timidity concerning these
-persons.  They were odd, they were uncertain, they had things one
-didn't know about in the background of their lives and minds.
-Literature and art were deeply respected in the Archer set, and Mrs.
-Archer was always at pains to tell her children how much more agreeable
-and cultivated society had been when it included such figures as
-Washington Irving, Fitz-Greene Halleck and the poet of "The Culprit
-Fay." The most celebrated authors of that generation had been
-"gentlemen"; perhaps the unknown persons who succeeded them had
-gentlemanly sentiments, but their origin, their appearance, their hair,
-their intimacy with the stage and the Opera, made any old New York
-criterion inapplicable to them.
+persons. They were odd, they were uncertain, they had things one didn't
+know about in the background of their lives and minds. Literature and
+art were deeply respected in the Archer set, and Mrs. Archer was always
+at pains to tell her children how much more agreeable and cultivated
+society had been when it included such figures as Washington Irving,
+Fitz-Greene Halleck and the poet of "The Culprit Fay." The most
+celebrated authors of that generation had been "gentlemen"; perhaps
+the unknown persons who succeeded them had gentlemanly sentiments, but
+their origin, their appearance, their hair, their intimacy with the
+stage and the Opera, made any old New York criterion inapplicable to
+them.
 
 "When I was a girl," Mrs. Archer used to say, "we knew everybody
 between the Battery and Canal Street; and only the people one knew had
-carriages.  It was perfectly easy to place any one then; now one can't
+carriages. It was perfectly easy to place any one then; now one can't
 tell, and I prefer not to try."
 
 Only old Catherine Mingott, with her absence of moral prejudices and
@@ -3165,37 +3144,37 @@ almost parvenu indifference to the subtler distinctions, might have
 bridged the abyss; but she had never opened a book or looked at a
 picture, and cared for music only because it reminded her of gala
 nights at the Italiens, in the days of her triumph at the Tuileries.
-Possibly Beaufort, who was her match in daring, would have succeeded in
-bringing about a fusion; but his grand house and silk-stockinged
-footmen were an obstacle to informal sociability.  Moreover, he was as
+Possibly Beaufort, who was her match in daring, would have succeeded
+in bringing about a fusion; but his grand house and silk-stockinged
+footmen were an obstacle to informal sociability. Moreover, he was as
 illiterate as old Mrs. Mingott, and considered "fellows who wrote" as
 the mere paid purveyors of rich men's pleasures; and no one rich enough
 to influence his opinion had ever questioned it.
 
 Newland Archer had been aware of these things ever since he could
 remember, and had accepted them as part of the structure of his
-universe.  He knew that there were societies where painters and poets
+universe. He knew that there were societies where painters and poets
 and novelists and men of science, and even great actors, were as sought
 after as Dukes; he had often pictured to himself what it would have
 been to live in the intimacy of drawing-rooms dominated by the talk of
-Merimee (whose "Lettres a une Inconnue" was one of his inseparables),
-of Thackeray, Browning or William Morris.  But such things were
-inconceivable in New York, and unsettling to think of.  Archer knew
-most of the "fellows who wrote," the musicians and the painters: he met
-them at the Century, or at the little musical and theatrical clubs that
-were beginning to come into existence.  He enjoyed them there, and was
-bored with them at the Blenkers', where they were mingled with fervid
-and dowdy women who passed them about like captured curiosities; and
-even after his most exciting talks with Ned Winsett he always came away
-with the feeling that if his world was small, so was theirs, and that
-the only way to enlarge either was to reach a stage of manners where
-they would naturally merge.
+Mérimée (whose "Lettres à une Inconnue" was one of his inseparables),
+of Thackeray, Browning or William Morris. But such things were
+inconceivable in New York, and unsettling to think of. Archer knew most
+of the "fellows who wrote," the musicians and the painters: he met them
+at the Century, or at the little musical and theatrical clubs that were
+beginning to come into existence. He enjoyed them there, and was bored
+with them at the Blenkers', where they were mingled with fervid and
+dowdy women who passed them about like captured curiosities; and even
+after his most exciting talks with Ned Winsett he always came away with
+the feeling that if his world was small, so was theirs, and that the
+only way to enlarge either was to reach a stage of manners where they
+would naturally merge.
 
 He was reminded of this by trying to picture the society in which the
 Countess Olenska had lived and suffered, and also--perhaps--tasted
-mysterious joys.  He remembered with what amusement she had told him
+mysterious joys. He remembered with what amusement she had told him
 that her grandmother Mingott and the Wellands objected to her living in
-a "Bohemian" quarter given over to "people who wrote."  It was not the
+a "Bohemian" quarter given over to "people who wrote." It was not the
 peril but the poverty that her family disliked; but that shade escaped
 her, and she supposed they considered literature compromising.
 
@@ -3203,36 +3182,36 @@ She herself had no fears of it, and the books scattered about her
 drawing-room (a part of the house in which books were usually supposed
 to be "out of place"), though chiefly works of fiction, had whetted
 Archer's interest with such new names as those of Paul Bourget,
-Huysmans, and the Goncourt brothers.  Ruminating on these things as he
+Huysmans, and the Goncourt brothers. Ruminating on these things as he
 approached her door, he was once more conscious of the curious way in
 which she reversed his values, and of the need of thinking himself into
 conditions incredibly different from any that he knew if he were to be
 of use in her present difficulty.
 
 
-Nastasia opened the door, smiling mysteriously.  On the bench in the
-hall lay a sable-lined overcoat, a folded opera hat of dull silk with a
-gold J. B. on the lining, and a white silk muffler: there was no
+Nastasia opened the door, smiling mysteriously. On the bench in the
+hall lay a sable-lined overcoat, a folded opera hat of dull silk with
+a gold J. B. on the lining, and a white silk muffler: there was no
 mistaking the fact that these costly articles were the property of
 Julius Beaufort.
 
 Archer was angry: so angry that he came near scribbling a word on his
 card and going away; then he remembered that in writing to Madame
 Olenska he had been kept by excess of discretion from saying that he
-wished to see her privately.  He had therefore no one but himself to
-blame if she had opened her doors to other visitors; and he entered the
-drawing-room with the dogged determination to make Beaufort feel
+wished to see her privately. He had therefore no one but himself to
+blame if she had opened her doors to other visitors; and he entered
+the drawing-room with the dogged determination to make Beaufort feel
 himself in the way, and to outstay him.
 
-The banker stood leaning against the mantelshelf, which was draped with
-an old embroidery held in place by brass candelabra containing church
-candles of yellowish wax.  He had thrust his chest out, supporting his
-shoulders against the mantel and resting his weight on one large
-patent-leather foot.  As Archer entered he was smiling and looking down
-on his hostess, who sat on a sofa placed at right angles to the
-chimney.  A table banked with flowers formed a screen behind it, and
-against the orchids and azaleas which the young man recognised as
-tributes from the Beaufort hot-houses, Madame Olenska sat
+The banker stood leaning against the mantelshelf, which was draped
+with an old embroidery held in place by brass candelabra containing
+church candles of yellowish wax. He had thrust his chest out,
+supporting his shoulders against the mantel and resting his weight
+on one large patent-leather foot. As Archer entered he was smiling
+and looking down on his hostess, who sat on a sofa placed at right
+angles to the chimney. A table banked with flowers formed a screen
+behind it, and against the orchids and azaleas which the young man
+recognised as tributes from the Beaufort hot-houses, Madame Olenska sat
 half-reclined, her head propped on a hand and her wide sleeve leaving
 the arm bare to the elbow.
 
@@ -3240,68 +3219,67 @@ It was usual for ladies who received in the evenings to wear what were
 called "simple dinner dresses": a close-fitting armour of whale-boned
 silk, slightly open in the neck, with lace ruffles filling in the
 crack, and tight sleeves with a flounce uncovering just enough wrist to
-show an Etruscan gold bracelet or a velvet band.  But Madame Olenska,
+show an Etruscan gold bracelet or a velvet band. But Madame Olenska,
 heedless of tradition, was attired in a long robe of red velvet
 bordered about the chin and down the front with glossy black fur.
 Archer remembered, on his last visit to Paris, seeing a portrait by the
 new painter, Carolus Duran, whose pictures were the sensation of the
 Salon, in which the lady wore one of these bold sheath-like robes with
-her chin nestling in fur.  There was something perverse and provocative
+her chin nestling in fur. There was something perverse and provocative
 in the notion of fur worn in the evening in a heated drawing-room, and
 in the combination of a muffled throat and bare arms; but the effect
 was undeniably pleasing.
 
 "Lord love us--three whole days at Skuytercliff!" Beaufort was saying
-in his loud sneering voice as Archer entered.  "You'd better take all
+in his loud sneering voice as Archer entered. "You'd better take all
 your furs, and a hot-water-bottle."
 
-"Why?  Is the house so cold?" she asked, holding out her left hand to
+"Why? Is the house so cold?" she asked, holding out her left hand to
 Archer in a way mysteriously suggesting that she expected him to kiss
 it.
 
 "No; but the missus is," said Beaufort, nodding carelessly to the young
 man.
 
-"But I thought her so kind.  She came herself to invite me. Granny says
+"But I thought her so kind. She came herself to invite me. Granny says
 I must certainly go."
 
-"Granny would, of course.  And I say it's a shame you're going to miss
+"Granny would, of course. And I say it's a shame you're going to miss
 the little oyster supper I'd planned for you at Delmonico's next
 Sunday, with Campanini and Scalchi and a lot of jolly people."
 
 She looked doubtfully from the banker to Archer.
 
-"Ah--that does tempt me!  Except the other evening at Mrs. Struthers's
+"Ah--that does tempt me! Except the other evening at Mrs. Struthers's
 I've not met a single artist since I've been here."
 
-"What kind of artists?  I know one or two painters, very good fellows,
+"What kind of artists? I know one or two painters, very good fellows,
 that I could bring to see you if you'd allow me," said Archer boldly.
 
-"Painters?  Are there painters in New York?" asked Beaufort, in a tone
+"Painters? Are there painters in New York?" asked Beaufort, in a tone
 implying that there could be none since he did not buy their pictures;
-and Madame Olenska said to Archer, with her grave smile:  "That would
-be charming.  But I was really thinking of dramatic artists, singers,
-actors, musicians.  My husband's house was always full of them."
+and Madame Olenska said to Archer, with her grave smile: "That would
+be charming. But I was really thinking of dramatic artists, singers,
+actors, musicians. My husband's house was always full of them."
 
 She said the words "my husband" as if no sinister associations were
 connected with them, and in a tone that seemed almost to sigh over the
-lost delights of her married life.  Archer looked at her perplexedly,
+lost delights of her married life. Archer looked at her perplexedly,
 wondering if it were lightness or dissimulation that enabled her to
 touch so easily on the past at the very moment when she was risking her
 reputation in order to break with it.
 
-"I do think," she went on, addressing both men, "that the imprevu adds
-to one's enjoyment.  It's perhaps a mistake to see the same people
-every day."
+"I do think," she went on, addressing both men, "that the _imprévu_ adds
+to one's enjoyment. It's perhaps a mistake to see the same people every
+day."
 
 "It's confoundedly dull, anyhow; New York is dying of dullness,"
-Beaufort grumbled.  "And when I try to liven it up for you, you go back
-on me.  Come--think better of it!  Sunday is your last chance, for
+Beaufort grumbled. "And when I try to liven it up for you, you go
+back on me. Come--think better of it! Sunday is your last chance, for
 Campanini leaves next week for Baltimore and Philadelphia; and I've a
 private room, and a Steinway, and they'll sing all night for me."
 
-"How delicious!  May I think it over, and write to you tomorrow
-morning?"
+"How delicious! May I think it over, and write to you tomorrow morning?"
 
 She spoke amiably, yet with the least hint of dismissal in her voice.
 Beaufort evidently felt it, and being unused to dismissals, stood
@@ -3313,12 +3291,12 @@ staring at her with an obstinate line between his eyes.
 
 "Do you call it late?"
 
-She returned his glance coolly.  "Yes; because I have still to talk
+She returned his glance coolly. "Yes; because I have still to talk
 business with Mr. Archer for a little while."
 
-"Ah," Beaufort snapped.  There was no appeal from her tone, and with a
+"Ah," Beaufort snapped. There was no appeal from her tone, and with a
 slight shrug he recovered his composure, took her hand, which he kissed
-with a practised air, and calling out from the threshold:  "I say,
+with a practised air, and calling out from the threshold: "I say,
 Newland, if you can persuade the Countess to stop in town of course
 you're included in the supper," left the room with his heavy important
 step.
@@ -3327,94 +3305,94 @@ For a moment Archer fancied that Mr. Letterblair must have told her of
 his coming; but the irrelevance of her next remark made him change his
 mind.
 
-"You know painters, then?  You live in their milieu?" she asked, her
+"You know painters, then? You live in their milieu?" she asked, her
 eyes full of interest.
 
-"Oh, not exactly.  I don't know that the arts have a milieu here, any
-of them; they're more like a very thinly settled outskirt."
+"Oh, not exactly. I don't know that the arts have a milieu here, any of
+them; they're more like a very thinly settled outskirt."
 
 "But you care for such things?"
 
-"Immensely.  When I'm in Paris or London I never miss an exhibition.  I
+"Immensely. When I'm in Paris or London I never miss an exhibition. I
 try to keep up."
 
 She looked down at the tip of the little satin boot that peeped from
 her long draperies.
 
-"I used to care immensely too: my life was full of such things.  But
-now I want to try not to."
+"I used to care immensely too: my life was full of such things. But now
+I want to try not to."
 
 "You want to try not to?"
 
 "Yes: I want to cast off all my old life, to become just like everybody
 else here."
 
-Archer reddened.  "You'll never be like everybody else," he said.
+Archer reddened. "You'll never be like everybody else," he said.
 
-She raised her straight eyebrows a little.  "Ah, don't say that.  If
-you knew how I hate to be different!"
+She raised her straight eyebrows a little. "Ah, don't say that. If you
+knew how I hate to be different!"
 
-Her face had grown as sombre as a tragic mask.  She leaned forward,
+Her face had grown as sombre as a tragic mask. She leaned forward,
 clasping her knee in her thin hands, and looking away from him into
 remote dark distances.
 
 "I want to get away from it all," she insisted.
 
-He waited a moment and cleared his throat.  "I know.  Mr. Letterblair
-has told me."
+He waited a moment and cleared his throat. "I know. Mr. Letterblair has
+told me."
 
 "Ah?"
 
-"That's the reason I've come.  He asked me to--you see I'm in the firm."
+"That's the reason I've come. He asked me to--you see I'm in the firm."
 
-She looked slightly surprised, and then her eyes brightened.  "You mean
-you can manage it for me?  I can talk to you instead of Mr.
-Letterblair?  Oh, that will be so much easier!"
+She looked slightly surprised, and then her eyes brightened. "You mean
+you can manage it for me? I can talk to you instead of Mr. Letterblair?
+Oh, that will be so much easier!"
 
 Her tone touched him, and his confidence grew with his
-self-satisfaction.  He perceived that she had spoken of business to
+self-satisfaction. He perceived that she had spoken of business to
 Beaufort simply to get rid of him; and to have routed Beaufort was
 something of a triumph.
 
 "I am here to talk about it," he repeated.
 
 She sat silent, her head still propped by the arm that rested on the
-back of the sofa.  Her face looked pale and extinguished, as if dimmed
-by the rich red of her dress.  She struck Archer, of a sudden, as a
+back of the sofa. Her face looked pale and extinguished, as if dimmed
+by the rich red of her dress. She struck Archer, of a sudden, as a
 pathetic and even pitiful figure.
 
-"Now we're coming to hard facts," he thought, conscious in himself of
-the same instinctive recoil that he had so often criticised in his
-mother and her contemporaries.  How little practice he had had in
-dealing with unusual situations!  Their very vocabulary was unfamiliar
-to him, and seemed to belong to fiction and the stage.  In face of what
+"Now we're coming to hard facts," he thought, conscious in himself
+of the same instinctive recoil that he had so often criticised in
+his mother and her contemporaries. How little practice he had had in
+dealing with unusual situations! Their very vocabulary was unfamiliar
+to him, and seemed to belong to fiction and the stage. In face of what
 was coming he felt as awkward and embarrassed as a boy.
 
-After a pause Madame Olenska broke out with unexpected vehemence:  "I
+After a pause Madame Olenska broke out with unexpected vehemence: "I
 want to be free; I want to wipe out all the past."
 
 "I understand that."
 
-Her face warmed.  "Then you'll help me?"
+Her face warmed. "Then you'll help me?"
 
 "First--" he hesitated--"perhaps I ought to know a little more."
 
-She seemed surprised.  "You know about my husband--my life with him?"
+She seemed surprised. "You know about my husband--my life with him?"
 
 He made a sign of assent.
 
-"Well--then--what more is there?  In this country are such things
-tolerated?  I'm a Protestant--our church does not forbid divorce in
-such cases."
+"Well--then--what more is there? In this country are such things
+tolerated? I'm a Protestant--our church does not forbid divorce in such
+cases."
 
 "Certainly not."
 
 They were both silent again, and Archer felt the spectre of Count
-Olenski's letter grimacing hideously between them.  The letter filled
+Olenski's letter grimacing hideously between them. The letter filled
 only half a page, and was just what he had described it to be in
 speaking of it to Mr. Letterblair: the vague charge of an angry
-blackguard.  But how much truth was behind it?  Only Count Olenski's
-wife could tell.
+blackguard. But how much truth was behind it? Only Count Olenski's wife
+could tell.
 
 "I've looked through the papers you gave to Mr. Letterblair," he said
 at length.
@@ -3448,14 +3426,14 @@ wedding ring did not appear.
 "What harm could such accusations, even if he made them publicly, do me
 here?"
 
-It was on his lips to exclaim:  "My poor child--far more harm than
-anywhere else!"  Instead, he answered, in a voice that sounded in his
+It was on his lips to exclaim: "My poor child--far more harm than
+anywhere else!" Instead, he answered, in a voice that sounded in his
 ears like Mr. Letterblair's: "New York society is a very small world
-compared with the one you've lived in.  And it's ruled, in spite of
+compared with the one you've lived in. And it's ruled, in spite of
 appearances, by a few people with--well, rather old-fashioned ideas."
 
-She said nothing, and he continued:  "Our ideas about marriage and
-divorce are particularly old-fashioned.  Our legislation favours
+She said nothing, and he continued: "Our ideas about marriage and
+divorce are particularly old-fashioned. Our legislation favours
 divorce--our social customs don't."
 
 "Never?"
@@ -3469,47 +3447,47 @@ hoping for a flash of indignation, or at least a brief cry of denial.
 None came.
 
 A little travelling clock ticked purringly at her elbow, and a log
-broke in two and sent up a shower of sparks.  The whole hushed and
+broke in two and sent up a shower of sparks. The whole hushed and
 brooding room seemed to be waiting silently with Archer.
 
 "Yes," she murmured at length, "that's what my family tell me."
 
-He winced a little.  "It's not unnatural--"
+He winced a little. "It's not unnatural--"
 
-"OUR family," she corrected herself; and Archer coloured.  "For you'll
+"_Our_ family," she corrected herself; and Archer coloured. "For you'll
 be my cousin soon," she continued gently.
 
 "I hope so."
 
 "And you take their view?"
 
-He stood up at this, wandered across the room, stared with void eyes at
-one of the pictures against the old red damask, and came back
-irresolutely to her side.  How could he say:  "Yes, if what your
-husband hints is true, or if you've no way of disproving it?"
+He stood up at this, wandered across the room, stared with void eyes
+at one of the pictures against the old red damask, and came back
+irresolutely to her side. How could he say: "Yes, if what your husband
+hints is true, or if you've no way of disproving it?"
 
 "Sincerely--" she interjected, as he was about to speak.
 
-He looked down into the fire.  "Sincerely, then--what should you gain
+He looked down into the fire. "Sincerely, then--what should you gain
 that would compensate for the possibility--the certainty--of a lot of
 beastly talk?"
 
 "But my freedom--is that nothing?"
 
 It flashed across him at that instant that the charge in the letter was
-true, and that she hoped to marry the partner of her guilt.  How was he
-to tell her that, if she really cherished such a plan, the laws of the
-State were inexorably opposed to it?  The mere suspicion that the
+true, and that she hoped to marry the partner of her guilt. How was
+he to tell her that, if she really cherished such a plan, the laws of
+the State were inexorably opposed to it? The mere suspicion that the
 thought was in her mind made him feel harshly and impatiently toward
-her.  "But aren't you as free as air as it is?" he returned.  "Who can
-touch you?  Mr. Letterblair tells me the financial question has been
+her. "But aren't you as free as air as it is?" he returned. "Who can
+touch you? Mr. Letterblair tells me the financial question has been
 settled--"
 
 "Oh, yes," she said indifferently.
 
 "Well, then: is it worth while to risk what may be infinitely
-disagreeable and painful?  Think of the newspapers--their vileness!
-It's all stupid and narrow and unjust--but one can't make over society."
+disagreeable and painful? Think of the newspapers--their vileness! It's
+all stupid and narrow and unjust--but one can't make over society."
 
 "No," she acquiesced; and her tone was so faint and desolate that he
 felt a sudden remorse for his own hard thoughts.
@@ -3519,35 +3497,35 @@ supposed to be the collective interest: people cling to any convention
 that keeps the family together--protects the children, if there are
 any," he rambled on, pouring out all the stock phrases that rose to his
 lips in his intense desire to cover over the ugly reality which her
-silence seemed to have laid bare.  Since she would not or could not say
+silence seemed to have laid bare. Since she would not or could not say
 the one word that would have cleared the air, his wish was not to let
-her feel that he was trying to probe into her secret.  Better keep on
+her feel that he was trying to probe into her secret. Better keep on
 the surface, in the prudent old New York way, than risk uncovering a
 wound he could not heal.
 
 "It's my business, you know," he went on, "to help you to see these
-things as the people who are fondest of you see them.  The Mingotts,
-the Wellands, the van der Luydens, all your friends and relations: if I
+things as the people who are fondest of you see them. The Mingotts, the
+Wellands, the van der Luydens, all your friends and relations: if I
 didn't show you honestly how they judge such questions, it wouldn't be
-fair of me, would it?"  He spoke insistently, almost pleading with her
+fair of me, would it?" He spoke insistently, almost pleading with her
 in his eagerness to cover up that yawning silence.
 
-She said slowly:  "No; it wouldn't be fair."
+She said slowly: "No; it wouldn't be fair."
 
 The fire had crumbled down to greyness, and one of the lamps made a
-gurgling appeal for attention.  Madame Olenska rose, wound it up and
+gurgling appeal for attention. Madame Olenska rose, wound it up and
 returned to the fire, but without resuming her seat.
 
 Her remaining on her feet seemed to signify that there was nothing more
 for either of them to say, and Archer stood up also.
 
-"Very well; I will do what you wish," she said abruptly.  The blood
+"Very well; I will do what you wish," she said abruptly. The blood
 rushed to his forehead; and, taken aback by the suddenness of her
 surrender, he caught her two hands awkwardly in his.
 
 "I--I do want to help you," he said.
 
-"You do help me.  Good night, my cousin."
+"You do help me. Good night, my cousin."
 
 He bent and laid his lips on her hands, which were cold and lifeless.
 She drew them away, and he turned to the door, found his coat and hat
@@ -3556,123 +3534,125 @@ night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.
 
 
 
+
 XIII.
 
+
 It was a crowded night at Wallack's theatre.
 
 The play was "The Shaughraun," with Dion Boucicault in the title role
-and Harry Montague and Ada Dyas as the lovers.  The popularity of the
+and Harry Montague and Ada Dyas as the lovers. The popularity of the
 admirable English company was at its height, and the Shaughraun always
-packed the house.  In the galleries the enthusiasm was unreserved; in
-the stalls and boxes, people smiled a little at the hackneyed
+packed the house. In the galleries the enthusiasm was unreserved;
+in the stalls and boxes, people smiled a little at the hackneyed
 sentiments and clap-trap situations, and enjoyed the play as much as
 the galleries did.
 
-There was one episode, in particular, that held the house from floor to
-ceiling.  It was that in which Harry Montague, after a sad, almost
+There was one episode, in particular, that held the house from floor
+to ceiling. It was that in which Harry Montague, after a sad, almost
 monosyllabic scene of parting with Miss Dyas, bade her good-bye, and
-turned to go.  The actress, who was standing near the mantelpiece and
-looking down into the fire, wore a gray cashmere dress without
+turned to go. The actress, who was standing near the mantelpiece
+and looking down into the fire, wore a gray cashmere dress without
 fashionable loopings or trimmings, moulded to her tall figure and
-flowing in long lines about her feet.  Around her neck was a narrow
+flowing in long lines about her feet. Around her neck was a narrow
 black velvet ribbon with the ends falling down her back.
 
 When her wooer turned from her she rested her arms against the
-mantel-shelf and bowed her face in her hands.  On the threshold he
+mantel-shelf and bowed her face in her hands. On the threshold he
 paused to look at her; then he stole back, lifted one of the ends of
 velvet ribbon, kissed it, and left the room without her hearing him or
-changing her attitude.  And on this silent parting the curtain fell.
+changing her attitude. And on this silent parting the curtain fell.
 
 It was always for the sake of that particular scene that Newland Archer
 went to see "The Shaughraun." He thought the adieux of Montague and Ada
-Dyas as fine as anything he had ever seen Croisette and Bressant do in
-Paris, or Madge Robertson and Kendal in London; in its reticence, its
-dumb sorrow, it moved him more than the most famous histrionic
+Dyas as fine as anything he had ever seen Croisette and Bressant do
+in Paris, or Madge Robertson and Kendal in London; in its reticence,
+its dumb sorrow, it moved him more than the most famous histrionic
 outpourings.
 
 On the evening in question the little scene acquired an added poignancy
 by reminding him--he could not have said why--of his leave-taking from
 Madame Olenska after their confidential talk a week or ten days earlier.
 
-It would have been as difficult to discover any resemblance between the
-two situations as between the appearance of the persons concerned.
+It would have been as difficult to discover any resemblance between
+the two situations as between the appearance of the persons concerned.
 Newland Archer could not pretend to anything approaching the young
 English actor's romantic good looks, and Miss Dyas was a tall
 red-haired woman of monumental build whose pale and pleasantly ugly
-face was utterly unlike Ellen Olenska's vivid countenance.  Nor were
+face was utterly unlike Ellen Olenska's vivid countenance. Nor were
 Archer and Madame Olenska two lovers parting in heart-broken silence;
 they were client and lawyer separating after a talk which had given the
-lawyer the worst possible impression of the client's case.  Wherein,
+lawyer the worst possible impression of the client's case. Wherein,
 then, lay the resemblance that made the young man's heart beat with a
-kind of retrospective excitement?  It seemed to be in Madame Olenska's
+kind of retrospective excitement? It seemed to be in Madame Olenska's
 mysterious faculty of suggesting tragic and moving possibilities
-outside the daily run of experience.  She had hardly ever said a word
+outside the daily run of experience. She had hardly ever said a word
 to him to produce this impression, but it was a part of her, either a
 projection of her mysterious and outlandish background or of something
-inherently dramatic, passionate and unusual in herself.  Archer had
+inherently dramatic, passionate and unusual in herself. Archer had
 always been inclined to think that chance and circumstance played a
 small part in shaping people's lots compared with their innate tendency
-to have things happen to them.  This tendency he had felt from the
-first in Madame Olenska.  The quiet, almost passive young woman struck
-him as exactly the kind of person to whom things were bound to happen,
-no matter how much she shrank from them and went out of her way to
-avoid them.  The exciting fact was her having lived in an atmosphere so
-thick with drama that her own tendency to provoke it had apparently
-passed unperceived.  It was precisely the odd absence of surprise in
-her that gave him the sense of her having been plucked out of a very
-maelstrom: the things she took for granted gave the measure of those
-she had rebelled against.
+to have things happen to them. This tendency he had felt from the first
+in Madame Olenska. The quiet, almost passive young woman struck him
+as exactly the kind of person to whom things were bound to happen, no
+matter how much she shrank from them and went out of her way to avoid
+them. The exciting fact was her having lived in an atmosphere so thick
+with drama that her own tendency to provoke it had apparently passed
+unperceived. It was precisely the odd absence of surprise in her that
+gave him the sense of her having been plucked out of a very maelstrom:
+the things she took for granted gave the measure of those she had
+rebelled against.
 
 Archer had left her with the conviction that Count Olenski's accusation
-was not unfounded.  The mysterious person who figured in his wife's
-past as "the secretary" had probably not been unrewarded for his share
-in her escape.  The conditions from which she had fled were
-intolerable, past speaking of, past believing: she was young, she was
-frightened, she was desperate--what more natural than that she should
-be grateful to her rescuer?  The pity was that her gratitude put her,
-in the law's eyes and the world's, on a par with her abominable
-husband.  Archer had made her understand this, as he was bound to do;
-he had also made her understand that simplehearted kindly New York, on
-whose larger charity she had apparently counted, was precisely the
-place where she could least hope for indulgence.
+was not unfounded. The mysterious person who figured in his wife's past
+as "the secretary" had probably not been unrewarded for his share in
+her escape. The conditions from which she had fled were intolerable,
+past speaking of, past believing: she was young, she was frightened,
+she was desperate--what more natural than that she should be grateful
+to her rescuer? The pity was that her gratitude put her, in the law's
+eyes and the world's, on a par with her abominable husband. Archer had
+made her understand this, as he was bound to do; he had also made her
+understand that simple-hearted kindly New York, on whose larger charity
+she had apparently counted, was precisely the place where she could
+least hope for indulgence.
 
 To have to make this fact plain to her--and to witness her resigned
-acceptance of it--had been intolerably painful to him.  He felt himself
+acceptance of it--had been intolerably painful to him. He felt himself
 drawn to her by obscure feelings of jealousy and pity, as if her
 dumbly-confessed error had put her at his mercy, humbling yet endearing
-her.  He was glad it was to him she had revealed her secret, rather
-than to the cold scrutiny of Mr. Letterblair, or the embarrassed gaze
-of her family.  He immediately took it upon himself to assure them both
-that she had given up her idea of seeking a divorce, basing her
-decision on the fact that she had understood the uselessness of the
-proceeding; and with infinite relief they had all turned their eyes
-from the "unpleasantness" she had spared them.
+her. He was glad it was to him she had revealed her secret, rather than
+to the cold scrutiny of Mr. Letterblair, or the embarrassed gaze of her
+family. He immediately took it upon himself to assure them both that
+she had given up her idea of seeking a divorce, basing her decision on
+the fact that she had understood the uselessness of the proceeding;
+and with infinite relief they had all turned their eyes from the
+"unpleasantness" she had spared them.
 
 "I was sure Newland would manage it," Mrs. Welland had said proudly of
-her future son-in-law; and old Mrs. Mingott, who had summoned him for a
-confidential interview, had congratulated him on his cleverness, and
-added impatiently:  "Silly goose!  I told her myself what nonsense it
-was.  Wanting to pass herself off as Ellen Mingott and an old maid,
-when she has the luck to be a married woman and a Countess!"
+her future son-in-law; and old Mrs. Mingott, who had summoned him for
+a confidential interview, had congratulated him on his cleverness, and
+added impatiently: "Silly goose! I told her myself what nonsense it
+was. Wanting to pass herself off as Ellen Mingott and an old maid, when
+she has the luck to be a married woman and a Countess!"
 
 These incidents had made the memory of his last talk with Madame
 Olenska so vivid to the young man that as the curtain fell on the
 parting of the two actors his eyes filled with tears, and he stood up
 to leave the theatre.
 
-In doing so, he turned to the side of the house behind him, and saw the
-lady of whom he was thinking seated in a box with the Beauforts,
-Lawrence Lefferts and one or two other men.  He had not spoken with her
-alone since their evening together, and had tried to avoid being with
-her in company; but now their eyes met, and as Mrs. Beaufort recognised
-him at the same time, and made her languid little gesture of
+In doing so, he turned to the side of the house behind him, and saw
+the lady of whom he was thinking seated in a box with the Beauforts,
+Lawrence Lefferts and one or two other men. He had not spoken with
+her alone since their evening together, and had tried to avoid being
+with her in company; but now their eyes met, and as Mrs. Beaufort
+recognised him at the same time, and made her languid little gesture of
 invitation, it was impossible not to go into the box.
 
 Beaufort and Lefferts made way for him, and after a few words with Mrs.
 Beaufort, who always preferred to look beautiful and not have to talk,
-Archer seated himself behind Madame Olenska.  There was no one else in
-the box but Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who was telling Mrs. Beaufort in a
-confidential undertone about Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's last Sunday
+Archer seated himself behind Madame Olenska. There was no one else in
+the box but Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who was telling Mrs. Beaufort in
+a confidential undertone about Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's last Sunday
 reception (where some people reported that there had been dancing).
 Under cover of this circumstantial narrative, to which Mrs. Beaufort
 listened with her perfect smile, and her head at just the right angle
@@ -3682,18 +3662,18 @@ in a low voice.
 "Do you think," she asked, glancing toward the stage, "he will send her
 a bunch of yellow roses tomorrow morning?"
 
-Archer reddened, and his heart gave a leap of surprise.  He had called
+Archer reddened, and his heart gave a leap of surprise. He had called
 only twice on Madame Olenska, and each time he had sent her a box of
-yellow roses, and each time without a card.  She had never before made
+yellow roses, and each time without a card. She had never before made
 any allusion to the flowers, and he supposed she had never thought of
-him as the sender.  Now her sudden recognition of the gift, and her
+him as the sender. Now her sudden recognition of the gift, and her
 associating it with the tender leave-taking on the stage, filled him
 with an agitated pleasure.
 
 "I was thinking of that too--I was going to leave the theatre in order
 to take the picture away with me," he said.
 
-To his surprise her colour rose, reluctantly and duskily.  She looked
+To his surprise her colour rose, reluctantly and duskily. She looked
 down at the mother-of-pearl opera-glass in her smoothly gloved hands,
 and said, after a pause: "What do you do while May is away?"
 
@@ -3701,11 +3681,11 @@ and said, after a pause: "What do you do while May is away?"
 
 In obedience to a long-established habit, the Wellands had left the
 previous week for St. Augustine, where, out of regard for the supposed
-susceptibility of Mr. Welland's bronchial tubes, they always spent the
-latter part of the winter.  Mr. Welland was a mild and silent man, with
-no opinions but with many habits.  With these habits none might
+susceptibility of Mr. Welland's bronchial tubes, they always spent
+the latter part of the winter. Mr. Welland was a mild and silent man,
+with no opinions but with many habits. With these habits none might
 interfere; and one of them demanded that his wife and daughter should
-always go with him on his annual journey to the south.  To preserve an
+always go with him on his annual journey to the south. To preserve an
 unbroken domesticity was essential to his peace of mind; he would not
 have known where his hair-brushes were, or how to provide stamps for
 his letters, if Mrs. Welland had not been there to tell him.
@@ -3717,70 +3697,72 @@ both in the law, and could not leave New York during the winter, always
 joined him for Easter and travelled back with him.
 
 It was impossible for Archer to discuss the necessity of May's
-accompanying her father.  The reputation of the Mingotts' family
+accompanying her father. The reputation of the Mingotts' family
 physician was largely based on the attack of pneumonia which Mr.
 Welland had never had; and his insistence on St. Augustine was
-therefore inflexible.  Originally, it had been intended that May's
+therefore inflexible. Originally, it had been intended that May's
 engagement should not be announced till her return from Florida, and
-the fact that it had been made known sooner could not be expected to
-alter Mr. Welland's plans.  Archer would have liked to join the
+the fact that it had been made known sooner could not be expected
+to alter Mr. Welland's plans. Archer would have liked to join the
 travellers and have a few weeks of sunshine and boating with his
-betrothed; but he too was bound by custom and conventions.  Little
+betrothed; but he too was bound by custom and conventions. Little
 arduous as his professional duties were, he would have been convicted
-of frivolity by the whole Mingott clan if he had suggested asking for a
-holiday in mid-winter; and he accepted May's departure with the
+of frivolity by the whole Mingott clan if he had suggested asking for
+a holiday in mid-winter; and he accepted May's departure with the
 resignation which he perceived would have to be one of the principal
 constituents of married life.
 
 He was conscious that Madame Olenska was looking at him under lowered
-lids.  "I have done what you wished--what you advised," she said
+lids. "I have done what you wished--what you advised," she said
 abruptly.
 
 "Ah--I'm glad," he returned, embarrassed by her broaching the subject
 at such a moment.
 
 "I understand--that you were right," she went on a little breathlessly;
-"but sometimes life is difficult ...  perplexing..."
+"but sometimes life is difficult ... perplexing..."
 
 "I know."
 
-"And I wanted to tell you that I DO feel you were right; and that I'm
+"And I wanted to tell you that I _do_ feel you were right; and that I'm
 grateful to you," she ended, lifting her opera-glass quickly to her
 eyes as the door of the box opened and Beaufort's resonant voice broke
 in on them.
 
 Archer stood up, and left the box and the theatre.
 
-Only the day before he had received a letter from May Welland in which,
-with characteristic candour, she had asked him to "be kind to Ellen" in
-their absence.  "She likes you and admires you so much--and you know,
-though she doesn't show it, she's still very lonely and unhappy.  I
-don't think Granny understands her, or uncle Lovell Mingott either;
-they really think she's much worldlier and fonder of society than she
-is.  And I can quite see that New York must seem dull to her, though
-the family won't admit it.  I think she's been used to lots of things
-we haven't got; wonderful music, and picture shows, and
+Only the day before he had received a letter from May Welland in
+which, with characteristic candour, she had asked him to "be kind to
+Ellen" in their absence. "She likes you and admires you so much--and
+you know, though she doesn't show it, she's still very lonely and
+unhappy. I don't think Granny understands her, or uncle Lovell Mingott
+either; they really think she's much worldlier and fonder of society
+than she is. And I can quite see that New York must seem dull to her,
+though the family won't admit it. I think she's been used to lots
+of things we haven't got; wonderful music, and picture shows, and
 celebrities--artists and authors and all the clever people you admire.
 Granny can't understand her wanting anything but lots of dinners and
 clothes--but I can see that you're almost the only person in New York
 who can talk to her about what she really cares for."
 
-His wise May--how he had loved her for that letter!  But he had not
+His wise May--how he had loved her for that letter! But he had not
 meant to act on it; he was too busy, to begin with, and he did not
 care, as an engaged man, to play too conspicuously the part of Madame
-Olenska's champion.  He had an idea that she knew how to take care of
-herself a good deal better than the ingenuous May imagined.  She had
+Olenska's champion. He had an idea that she knew how to take care of
+herself a good deal better than the ingenuous May imagined. She had
 Beaufort at her feet, Mr. van der Luyden hovering above her like a
 protecting deity, and any number of candidates (Lawrence Lefferts among
-them) waiting their opportunity in the middle distance.  Yet he never
+them) waiting their opportunity in the middle distance. Yet he never
 saw her, or exchanged a word with her, without feeling that, after all,
-May's ingenuousness almost amounted to a gift of divination.  Ellen
+May's ingenuousness almost amounted to a gift of divination. Ellen
 Olenska was lonely and she was unhappy.
 
 
 
+
 XIV.
 
+
 As he came out into the lobby Archer ran across his friend Ned Winsett,
 the only one among what Janey called his "clever people" with whom he
 cared to probe into things a little deeper than the average level of
@@ -3788,50 +3770,48 @@ club and chop-house banter.
 
 He had caught sight, across the house, of Winsett's shabby
 round-shouldered back, and had once noticed his eyes turned toward the
-Beaufort box.  The two men shook hands, and Winsett proposed a bock at
-a little German restaurant around the corner.  Archer, who was not in
-the mood for the kind of talk they were likely to get there, declined
-on the plea that he had work to do at home; and Winsett said:  "Oh,
-well so have I for that matter, and I'll be the Industrious Apprentice
-too."
-
-They strolled along together, and presently Winsett said:  "Look here,
-what I'm really after is the name of the dark lady in that swell box of
-yours--with the Beauforts, wasn't she?  The one your friend Lefferts
+Beaufort box. The two men shook hands, and Winsett proposed a bock at a
+little German restaurant around the corner. Archer, who was not in the
+mood for the kind of talk they were likely to get there, declined on
+the plea that he had work to do at home; and Winsett said: "Oh, well so
+have I for that matter, and I'll be the Industrious Apprentice too."
+
+They strolled along together, and presently Winsett said: "Look here,
+what I'm really after is the name of the dark lady in that swell box
+of yours--with the Beauforts, wasn't she? The one your friend Lefferts
 seems so smitten by."
 
-Archer, he could not have said why, was slightly annoyed.  What the
-devil did Ned Winsett want with Ellen Olenska's name?  And above all,
-why did he couple it with Lefferts's?  It was unlike Winsett to
-manifest such curiosity; but after all, Archer remembered, he was a
-journalist.
+Archer, he could not have said why, was slightly annoyed. What the
+devil did Ned Winsett want with Ellen Olenska's name? And above all,
+why did he couple it with Lefferts's? It was unlike Winsett to manifest
+such curiosity; but after all, Archer remembered, he was a journalist.
 
 "It's not for an interview, I hope?" he laughed.
 
-"Well--not for the press; just for myself," Winsett rejoined.  "The
+"Well--not for the press; just for myself," Winsett rejoined. "The
 fact is she's a neighbour of mine--queer quarter for such a beauty to
 settle in--and she's been awfully kind to my little boy, who fell down
-her area chasing his kitten, and gave himself a nasty cut.  She rushed
+her area chasing his kitten, and gave himself a nasty cut. She rushed
 in bareheaded, carrying him in her arms, with his knee all beautifully
 bandaged, and was so sympathetic and beautiful that my wife was too
 dazzled to ask her name."
 
-A pleasant glow dilated Archer's heart.  There was nothing
-extraordinary in the tale: any woman would have done as much for a
-neighbour's child.  But it was just like Ellen, he felt, to have rushed
-in bareheaded, carrying the boy in her arms, and to have dazzled poor
-Mrs. Winsett into forgetting to ask who she was.
+A pleasant glow dilated Archer's heart. There was nothing extraordinary
+in the tale: any woman would have done as much for a neighbour's child.
+But it was just like Ellen, he felt, to have rushed in bareheaded,
+carrying the boy in her arms, and to have dazzled poor Mrs. Winsett
+into forgetting to ask who she was.
 
 "That is the Countess Olenska--a granddaughter of old Mrs. Mingott's."
 
-"Whew--a Countess!" whistled Ned Winsett.  "Well, I didn't know
-Countesses were so neighbourly.  Mingotts ain't."
+"Whew--a Countess!" whistled Ned Winsett. "Well, I didn't know
+Countesses were so neighbourly. Mingotts ain't."
 
 "They would be, if you'd let them."
 
-"Ah, well--"  It was their old interminable argument as to the
-obstinate unwillingness of the "clever people" to frequent the
-fashionable, and both men knew that there was no use in prolonging it.
+"Ah, well--" It was their old interminable argument as to the obstinate
+unwillingness of the "clever people" to frequent the fashionable, and
+both men knew that there was no use in prolonging it.
 
 "I wonder," Winsett broke off, "how a Countess happens to live in our
 slum?"
@@ -3840,7 +3820,7 @@ slum?"
 our little social sign-posts," said Archer, with a secret pride in his
 own picture of her.
 
-"H'm--been in bigger places, I suppose," the other commented.  "Well,
+"H'm--been in bigger places, I suppose," the other commented. "Well,
 here's my corner."
 
 He slouched off across Broadway, and Archer stood looking after him and
@@ -3852,143 +3832,142 @@ allowed him to accept failure so stolidly at an age when most men are
 still struggling.
 
 Archer had known that Winsett had a wife and child, but he had never
-seen them.  The two men always met at the Century, or at some haunt of
+seen them. The two men always met at the Century, or at some haunt of
 journalists and theatrical people, such as the restaurant where Winsett
-had proposed to go for a bock.  He had given Archer to understand that
-his wife was an invalid; which might be true of the poor lady, or might
-merely mean that she was lacking in social gifts or in evening clothes,
-or in both.  Winsett himself had a savage abhorrence of social
+had proposed to go for a bock. He had given Archer to understand that
+his wife was an invalid; which might be true of the poor lady, or
+might merely mean that she was lacking in social gifts or in evening
+clothes, or in both. Winsett himself had a savage abhorrence of social
 observances: Archer, who dressed in the evening because he thought it
 cleaner and more comfortable to do so, and who had never stopped to
-consider that cleanliness and comfort are two of the costliest items in
-a modest budget, regarded Winsett's attitude as part of the boring
-"Bohemian" pose that always made fashionable people, who changed their
-clothes without talking about it, and were not forever harping on the
-number of servants one kept, seem so much simpler and less
-self-conscious than the others.  Nevertheless, he was always stimulated
+consider that cleanliness and comfort are two of the costliest items
+in a modest budget, regarded Winsett's attitude as part of the boring
+"Bohemian" pose that always made fashionable people, who changed
+their clothes without talking about it, and were not forever harping
+on the number of servants one kept, seem so much simpler and less
+self-conscious than the others. Nevertheless, he was always stimulated
 by Winsett, and whenever he caught sight of the journalist's lean
 bearded face and melancholy eyes he would rout him out of his corner
 and carry him off for a long talk.
 
-Winsett was not a journalist by choice.  He was a pure man of letters,
+Winsett was not a journalist by choice. He was a pure man of letters,
 untimely born in a world that had no need of letters; but after
-publishing one volume of brief and exquisite literary appreciations, of
-which one hundred and twenty copies were sold, thirty given away, and
-the balance eventually destroyed by the publishers (as per contract) to
-make room for more marketable material, he had abandoned his real
-calling, and taken a sub-editorial job on a women's weekly, where
-fashion-plates and paper patterns alternated with New England
+publishing one volume of brief and exquisite literary appreciations,
+of which one hundred and twenty copies were sold, thirty given away,
+and the balance eventually destroyed by the publishers (as per
+contract) to make room for more marketable material, he had abandoned
+his real calling, and taken a sub-editorial job on a women's weekly,
+where fashion-plates and paper patterns alternated with New England
 love-stories and advertisements of temperance drinks.
 
 On the subject of "Hearth-fires" (as the paper was called) he was
 inexhaustibly entertaining; but beneath his fun lurked the sterile
-bitterness of the still young man who has tried and given up.  His
+bitterness of the still young man who has tried and given up. His
 conversation always made Archer take the measure of his own life, and
-feel how little it contained; but Winsett's, after all, contained still
-less, and though their common fund of intellectual interests and
+feel how little it contained; but Winsett's, after all, contained
+still less, and though their common fund of intellectual interests and
 curiosities made their talks exhilarating, their exchange of views
 usually remained within the limits of a pensive dilettantism.
 
 "The fact is, life isn't much a fit for either of us," Winsett had once
-said.  "I'm down and out; nothing to be done about it.  I've got only
-one ware to produce, and there's no market for it here, and won't be in
-my time.  But you're free and you're well-off.  Why don't you get into
-touch?  There's only one way to do it: to go into politics."
-
-Archer threw his head back and laughed.  There one saw at a flash the
-unbridgeable difference between men like Winsett and the
-others--Archer's kind.  Every one in polite circles knew that, in
-America, "a gentleman couldn't go into politics."  But, since he could
+said. "I'm down and out; nothing to be done about it. I've got only one
+ware to produce, and there's no market for it here, and won't be in
+my time. But you're free and you're well-off. Why don't _you_ get into
+touch? There's only one way to do it: to go into politics."
+
+Archer threw his head back and laughed. There one saw at a flash
+the unbridgeable difference between men like Winsett and the
+others--Archer's kind. Every one in polite circles knew that, in
+America, "a gentleman couldn't go into politics." But, since he could
 hardly put it in that way to Winsett, he answered evasively: "Look at
-the career of the honest man in American politics!  They don't want us."
+the career of the honest man in American politics! They don't want us."
 
-"Who's 'they'?  Why don't you all get together and be 'they'
-yourselves?"
+"Who's 'they'? Why don't you all get together and be 'they' yourselves?"
 
 Archer's laugh lingered on his lips in a slightly condescending smile.
 It was useless to prolong the discussion: everybody knew the melancholy
 fate of the few gentlemen who had risked their clean linen in municipal
-or state politics in New York.  The day was past when that sort of
-thing was possible: the country was in possession of the bosses and the
+or state politics in New York. The day was past when that sort of thing
+was possible: the country was in possession of the bosses and the
 emigrant, and decent people had to fall back on sport or culture.
 
-"Culture!  Yes--if we had it!  But there are just a few little local
+"Culture! Yes--if we had it! But there are just a few little local
 patches, dying out here and there for lack of--well, hoeing and
-cross-fertilising: the last remnants of the old European tradition that
-your forebears brought with them.  But you're in a pitiful little
-minority: you've got no centre, no competition, no audience.  You're
-like the pictures on the walls of a deserted house:  'The Portrait of a
-Gentleman.'  You'll never amount to anything, any of you, till you roll
-up your sleeves and get right down into the muck.  That, or emigrate
-... God!  If I could emigrate ..."
-
-Archer mentally shrugged his shoulders and turned the conversation back
-to books, where Winsett, if uncertain, was always interesting.
-Emigrate!  As if a gentleman could abandon his own country!  One could
-no more do that than one could roll up one's sleeves and go down into
-the muck.  A gentleman simply stayed at home and abstained.  But you
-couldn't make a man like Winsett see that; and that was why the New
-York of literary clubs and exotic restaurants, though a first shake
-made it seem more of a kaleidoscope, turned out, in the end, to be a
-smaller box, with a more monotonous pattern, than the assembled atoms
-of Fifth Avenue.
-
-
-The next morning Archer scoured the town in vain for more yellow roses.
-In consequence of this search he arrived late at the office, perceived
-that his doing so made no difference whatever to any one, and was
-filled with sudden exasperation at the elaborate futility of his life.
-Why should he not be, at that moment, on the sands of St. Augustine
-with May Welland?  No one was deceived by his pretense of professional
-activity.  In old-fashioned legal firms like that of which Mr.
-Letterblair was the head, and which were mainly engaged in the
-management of large estates and "conservative" investments, there were
-always two or three young men, fairly well-off, and without
+cross-fertilising: the last remnants of the old European tradition
+that your forebears brought with them. But you're in a pitiful little
+minority: you've got no centre, no competition, no audience. You're
+like the pictures on the walls of a deserted house: 'The Portrait of a
+Gentleman.' You'll never amount to anything, any of you, till you roll
+up your sleeves and get right down into the muck. That, or emigrate ...
+God! If I could emigrate ..."
+
+Archer mentally shrugged his shoulders and turned the conversation
+back to books, where Winsett, if uncertain, was always interesting.
+Emigrate! As if a gentleman could abandon his own country! One could no
+more do that than one could roll up one's sleeves and go down into the
+muck. A gentleman simply stayed at home and abstained. But you couldn't
+make a man like Winsett see that; and that was why the New York of
+literary clubs and exotic restaurants, though a first shake made it
+seem more of a kaleidoscope, turned out, in the end, to be a smaller
+box, with a more monotonous pattern, than the assembled atoms of Fifth
+Avenue.
+
+
+The next morning Archer scoured the town in vain for more yellow
+roses. In consequence of this search he arrived late at the office,
+perceived that his doing so made no difference whatever to any one,
+and was filled with sudden exasperation at the elaborate futility
+of his life. Why should he not be, at that moment, on the sands of
+St. Augustine with May Welland? No one was deceived by his pretense
+of professional activity. In old-fashioned legal firms like that of
+which Mr. Letterblair was the head, and which were mainly engaged in
+the management of large estates and "conservative" investments, there
+were always two or three young men, fairly well-off, and without
 professional ambition, who, for a certain number of hours of each day,
-sat at their desks accomplishing trivial tasks, or simply reading the
-newspapers.  Though it was supposed to be proper for them to have an
-occupation, the crude fact of money-making was still regarded as
+sat at their desks accomplishing trivial tasks, or simply reading
+the newspapers. Though it was supposed to be proper for them to have
+an occupation, the crude fact of money-making was still regarded as
 derogatory, and the law, being a profession, was accounted a more
-gentlemanly pursuit than business.  But none of these young men had
-much hope of really advancing in his profession, or any earnest desire
-to do so; and over many of them the green mould of the perfunctory was
+gentlemanly pursuit than business. But none of these young men had much
+hope of really advancing in his profession, or any earnest desire to
+do so; and over many of them the green mould of the perfunctory was
 already perceptibly spreading.
 
 It made Archer shiver to think that it might be spreading over him too.
 He had, to be sure, other tastes and interests; he spent his vacations
 in European travel, cultivated the "clever people" May spoke of, and
 generally tried to "keep up," as he had somewhat wistfully put it to
-Madame Olenska.  But once he was married, what would become of this
-narrow margin of life in which his real experiences were lived?  He had
-seen enough of other young men who had dreamed his dream, though
+Madame Olenska. But once he was married, what would become of this
+narrow margin of life in which his real experiences were lived? He
+had seen enough of other young men who had dreamed his dream, though
 perhaps less ardently, and who had gradually sunk into the placid and
 luxurious routine of their elders.
 
 From the office he sent a note by messenger to Madame Olenska, asking
 if he might call that afternoon, and begging her to let him find a
 reply at his club; but at the club he found nothing, nor did he receive
-any letter the following day.  This unexpected silence mortified him
-beyond reason, and though the next morning he saw a glorious cluster of
-yellow roses behind a florist's window-pane, he left it there.  It was
-only on the third morning that he received a line by post from the
-Countess Olenska.  To his surprise it was dated from Skuytercliff,
+any letter the following day. This unexpected silence mortified him
+beyond reason, and though the next morning he saw a glorious cluster
+of yellow roses behind a florist's window-pane, he left it there. It
+was only on the third morning that he received a line by post from
+the Countess Olenska. To his surprise it was dated from Skuytercliff,
 whither the van der Luydens had promptly retreated after putting the
 Duke on board his steamer.
 
 "I ran away," the writer began abruptly (without the usual
 preliminaries), "the day after I saw you at the play, and these kind
-friends have taken me in.  I wanted to be quiet, and think things over.
+friends have taken me in. I wanted to be quiet, and think things over.
 You were right in telling me how kind they were; I feel myself so safe
-here.  I wish that you were with us."  She ended with a conventional
+here. I wish that you were with us." She ended with a conventional
 "Yours sincerely," and without any allusion to the date of her return.
 
-The tone of the note surprised the young man.  What was Madame Olenska
-running away from, and why did she feel the need to be safe?  His first
+The tone of the note surprised the young man. What was Madame Olenska
+running away from, and why did she feel the need to be safe? His first
 thought was of some dark menace from abroad; then he reflected that he
 did not know her epistolary style, and that it might run to picturesque
-exaggeration.  Women always exaggerated; and moreover she was not
+exaggeration. Women always exaggerated; and moreover she was not
 wholly at her ease in English, which she often spoke as if she were
-translating from the French.  "Je me suis evadee--" put in that way,
+translating from the French. "Je me suis évadée--" put in that way,
 the opening sentence immediately suggested that she might merely have
 wanted to escape from a boring round of engagements; which was very
 likely true, for he judged her to be capricious, and easily wearied of
@@ -3996,12 +3975,12 @@ the pleasure of the moment.
 
 It amused him to think of the van der Luydens' having carried her off
 to Skuytercliff on a second visit, and this time for an indefinite
-period.  The doors of Skuytercliff were rarely and grudgingly opened to
-visitors, and a chilly week-end was the most ever offered to the few
-thus privileged.  But Archer had seen, on his last visit to Paris, the
-delicious play of Labiche, "Le Voyage de M. Perrichon," and he
-remembered M.  Perrichon's dogged and undiscouraged attachment to the
-young man whom he had pulled out of the glacier.  The van der Luydens
+period. The doors of Skuytercliff were rarely and grudgingly opened
+to visitors, and a chilly week-end was the most ever offered to the
+few thus privileged. But Archer had seen, on his last visit to Paris,
+the delicious play of Labiche, "Le Voyage de M. Perrichon," and he
+remembered M. Perrichon's dogged and undiscouraged attachment to the
+young man whom he had pulled out of the glacier. The van der Luydens
 had rescued Madame Olenska from a doom almost as icy; and though there
 were many other reasons for being attracted to her, Archer knew that
 beneath them all lay the gentle and obstinate determination to go on
@@ -4014,46 +3993,48 @@ at their house on the Hudson, a few miles below Skuytercliff.
 
 He had had his fill long ago of the noisy friendly parties at Highbank,
 with coasting, ice-boating, sleighing, long tramps in the snow, and a
-general flavour of mild flirting and milder practical jokes.  He had
+general flavour of mild flirting and milder practical jokes. He had
 just received a box of new books from his London book-seller, and had
-preferred the prospect of a quiet Sunday at home with his spoils.  But
+preferred the prospect of a quiet Sunday at home with his spoils. But
 he now went into the club writing-room, wrote a hurried telegram, and
-told the servant to send it immediately.  He knew that Mrs. Reggie
+told the servant to send it immediately. He knew that Mrs. Reggie
 didn't object to her visitors' suddenly changing their minds, and that
 there was always a room to spare in her elastic house.
 
 
 
+
 XV.
 
+
 Newland Archer arrived at the Chiverses' on Friday evening, and on
 Saturday went conscientiously through all the rites appertaining to a
 week-end at Highbank.
 
 In the morning he had a spin in the ice-boat with his hostess and a few
 of the hardier guests; in the afternoon he "went over the farm" with
-Reggie, and listened, in the elaborately appointed stables, to long and
-impressive disquisitions on the horse; after tea he talked in a corner
-of the firelit hall with a young lady who had professed herself
+Reggie, and listened, in the elaborately appointed stables, to long
+and impressive disquisitions on the horse; after tea he talked in a
+corner of the firelit hall with a young lady who had professed herself
 broken-hearted when his engagement was announced, but was now eager to
-tell him of her own matrimonial hopes; and finally, about midnight, he
-assisted in putting a gold-fish in one visitor's bed, dressed up a
+tell him of her own matrimonial hopes; and finally, about midnight,
+he assisted in putting a gold-fish in one visitor's bed, dressed up a
 burglar in the bath-room of a nervous aunt, and saw in the small hours
 by joining in a pillow-fight that ranged from the nurseries to the
-basement.  But on Sunday after luncheon he borrowed a cutter, and drove
+basement. But on Sunday after luncheon he borrowed a cutter, and drove
 over to Skuytercliff.
 
 People had always been told that the house at Skuytercliff was an
-Italian villa.  Those who had never been to Italy believed it; so did
-some who had.  The house had been built by Mr. van der Luyden in his
+Italian villa. Those who had never been to Italy believed it; so did
+some who had. The house had been built by Mr. van der Luyden in his
 youth, on his return from the "grand tour," and in anticipation of his
-approaching marriage with Miss Louisa Dagonet.  It was a large square
+approaching marriage with Miss Louisa Dagonet. It was a large square
 wooden structure, with tongued and grooved walls painted pale green and
 white, a Corinthian portico, and fluted pilasters between the windows.
-From the high ground on which it stood a series of terraces bordered by
-balustrades and urns descended in the steel-engraving style to a small
-irregular lake with an asphalt edge overhung by rare weeping conifers.
-To the right and left, the famous weedless lawns studded with
+From the high ground on which it stood a series of terraces bordered
+by balustrades and urns descended in the steel-engraving style to a
+small irregular lake with an asphalt edge overhung by rare weeping
+conifers. To the right and left, the famous weedless lawns studded with
 "specimen" trees (each of a different variety) rolled away to long
 ranges of grass crested with elaborate cast-iron ornaments; and below,
 in a hollow, lay the four-roomed stone house which the first Patroon
@@ -4062,7 +4043,7 @@ had built on the land granted him in 1612.
 Against the uniform sheet of snow and the greyish winter sky the
 Italian villa loomed up rather grimly; even in summer it kept its
 distance, and the boldest coleus bed had never ventured nearer than
-thirty feet from its awful front.  Now, as Archer rang the bell, the
+thirty feet from its awful front. Now, as Archer rang the bell, the
 long tinkle seemed to echo through a mausoleum; and the surprise of the
 butler who at length responded to the call was as great as though he
 had been summoned from his final sleep.
@@ -4074,7 +4055,7 @@ three quarters of an hour earlier.
 
 "Mr. van der Luyden," the butler continued, "is in, sir; but my
 impression is that he is either finishing his nap or else reading
-yesterday's Evening Post.  I heard him say, sir, on his return from
+yesterday's Evening Post. I heard him say, sir, on his return from
 church this morning, that he intended to look through the Evening Post
 after luncheon; if you like, sir, I might go to the library door and
 listen--"
@@ -4083,62 +4064,61 @@ But Archer, thanking him, said that he would go and meet the ladies;
 and the butler, obviously relieved, closed the door on him majestically.
 
 A groom took the cutter to the stables, and Archer struck through the
-park to the high-road.  The village of Skuytercliff was only a mile and
+park to the high-road. The village of Skuytercliff was only a mile and
 a half away, but he knew that Mrs. van der Luyden never walked, and
-that he must keep to the road to meet the carriage.  Presently,
-however, coming down a foot-path that crossed the highway, he caught
-sight of a slight figure in a red cloak, with a big dog running ahead.
-He hurried forward, and Madame Olenska stopped short with a smile of
-welcome.
+that he must keep to the road to meet the carriage. Presently, however,
+coming down a foot-path that crossed the highway, he caught sight of a
+slight figure in a red cloak, with a big dog running ahead. He hurried
+forward, and Madame Olenska stopped short with a smile of welcome.
 
 "Ah, you've come!" she said, and drew her hand from her muff.
 
 The red cloak made her look gay and vivid, like the Ellen Mingott of
-old days; and he laughed as he took her hand, and answered:  "I came to
+old days; and he laughed as he took her hand, and answered: "I came to
 see what you were running away from."
 
-Her face clouded over, but she answered:  "Ah, well--you will see,
+Her face clouded over, but she answered: "Ah, well--you will see,
 presently."
 
-The answer puzzled him.  "Why--do you mean that you've been overtaken?"
+The answer puzzled him. "Why--do you mean that you've been overtaken?"
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, with a little movement like Nastasia's, and
-rejoined in a lighter tone:  "Shall we walk on?  I'm so cold after the
-sermon.  And what does it matter, now you're here to protect me?"
+rejoined in a lighter tone: "Shall we walk on? I'm so cold after the
+sermon. And what does it matter, now you're here to protect me?"
 
 The blood rose to his temples and he caught a fold of her cloak.
-"Ellen--what is it?  You must tell me."
+"Ellen--what is it? You must tell me."
 
 "Oh, presently--let's run a race first: my feet are freezing to the
-ground," she cried; and gathering up the cloak she fled away across the
-snow, the dog leaping about her with challenging barks.  For a moment
-Archer stood watching, his gaze delighted by the flash of the red
-meteor against the snow; then he started after her, and they met,
+ground," she cried; and gathering up the cloak she fled away across
+the snow, the dog leaping about her with challenging barks. For a
+moment Archer stood watching, his gaze delighted by the flash of the
+red meteor against the snow; then he started after her, and they met,
 panting and laughing, at a wicket that led into the park.
 
-She looked up at him and smiled.  "I knew you'd come!"
+She looked up at him and smiled. "I knew you'd come!"
 
 "That shows you wanted me to," he returned, with a disproportionate joy
-in their nonsense.  The white glitter of the trees filled the air with
+in their nonsense. The white glitter of the trees filled the air with
 its own mysterious brightness, and as they walked on over the snow the
 ground seemed to sing under their feet.
 
 "Where did you come from?" Madame Olenska asked.
 
-He told her, and added:  "It was because I got your note."
+He told her, and added: "It was because I got your note."
 
 After a pause she said, with a just perceptible chill in her voice:
 "May asked you to take care of me."
 
 "I didn't need any asking."
 
-"You mean--I'm so evidently helpless and defenceless?  What a poor
-thing you must all think me!  But women here seem not--seem never to
-feel the need: any more than the blessed in heaven."
+"You mean--I'm so evidently helpless and defenceless? What a poor thing
+you must all think me! But women here seem not--seem never to feel the
+need: any more than the blessed in heaven."
 
-He lowered his voice to ask:  "What sort of a need?"
+He lowered his voice to ask: "What sort of a need?"
 
-"Ah, don't ask me!  I don't speak your language," she retorted
+"Ah, don't ask me! I don't speak your language," she retorted
 petulantly.
 
 The answer smote him like a blow, and he stood still in the path,
@@ -4146,64 +4126,64 @@ looking down at her.
 
 "What did I come for, if I don't speak yours?"
 
-"Oh, my friend--!"  She laid her hand lightly on his arm, and he
-pleaded earnestly:  "Ellen--why won't you tell me what's happened?"
+"Oh, my friend--!" She laid her hand lightly on his arm, and he pleaded
+earnestly: "Ellen--why won't you tell me what's happened?"
 
-She shrugged again.  "Does anything ever happen in heaven?"
+She shrugged again. "Does anything ever happen in heaven?"
 
 He was silent, and they walked on a few yards without exchanging a
-word.  Finally she said:  "I will tell you--but where, where, where?
-One can't be alone for a minute in that great seminary of a house, with
-all the doors wide open, and always a servant bringing tea, or a log
-for the fire, or the newspaper!  Is there nowhere in an American house
-where one may be by one's self?  You're so shy, and yet you're so
-public.  I always feel as if I were in the convent again--or on the
-stage, before a dreadfully polite audience that never applauds."
+word. Finally she said: "I will tell you--but where, where, where? One
+can't be alone for a minute in that great seminary of a house, with all
+the doors wide open, and always a servant bringing tea, or a log for
+the fire, or the newspaper! Is there nowhere in an American house where
+one may be by one's self? You're so shy, and yet you're so public. I
+always feel as if I were in the convent again--or on the stage, before
+a dreadfully polite audience that never applauds."
 
 "Ah, you don't like us!" Archer exclaimed.
 
 They were walking past the house of the old Patroon, with its squat
 walls and small square windows compactly grouped about a central
-chimney.  The shutters stood wide, and through one of the newly-washed
+chimney. The shutters stood wide, and through one of the newly-washed
 windows Archer caught the light of a fire.
 
 "Why--the house is open!" he said.
 
-She stood still.  "No; only for today, at least.  I wanted to see it,
-and Mr. van der Luyden had the fire lit and the windows opened, so that
-we might stop there on the way back from church this morning."  She ran
-up the steps and tried the door.  "It's still unlocked--what luck!
-Come in and we can have a quiet talk.  Mrs. van der Luyden has driven
-over to see her old aunts at Rhinebeck and we shan't be missed at the
-house for another hour."
-
-He followed her into the narrow passage.  His spirits, which had
-dropped at her last words, rose with an irrational leap.  The homely
-little house stood there, its panels and brasses shining in the
-firelight, as if magically created to receive them.  A big bed of
-embers still gleamed in the kitchen chimney, under an iron pot hung
-from an ancient crane.  Rush-bottomed arm-chairs faced each other
-across the tiled hearth, and rows of Delft plates stood on shelves
-against the walls.  Archer stooped over and threw a log upon the embers.
+She stood still. "No; only for today, at least. I wanted to see it, and
+Mr. van der Luyden had the fire lit and the windows opened, so that we
+might stop there on the way back from church this morning." She ran up
+the steps and tried the door. "It's still unlocked--what luck! Come in
+and we can have a quiet talk. Mrs. van der Luyden has driven over to
+see her old aunts at Rhinebeck and we shan't be missed at the house for
+another hour."
+
+He followed her into the narrow passage. His spirits, which had dropped
+at her last words, rose with an irrational leap. The homely little
+house stood there, its panels and brasses shining in the firelight, as
+if magically created to receive them. A big bed of embers still gleamed
+in the kitchen chimney, under an iron pot hung from an ancient crane.
+Rush-bottomed arm-chairs faced each other across the tiled hearth, and
+rows of Delft plates stood on shelves against the walls. Archer stooped
+over and threw a log upon the embers.
 
 Madame Olenska, dropping her cloak, sat down in one of the chairs.
 Archer leaned against the chimney and looked at her.
 
 "You're laughing now; but when you wrote me you were unhappy," he said.
 
-"Yes."  She paused.  "But I can't feel unhappy when you're here."
+"Yes." She paused. "But I can't feel unhappy when you're here."
 
 "I sha'n't be here long," he rejoined, his lips stiffening with the
 effort to say just so much and no more.
 
-"No; I know.  But I'm improvident: I live in the moment when I'm happy."
+"No; I know. But I'm improvident: I live in the moment when I'm happy."
 
 The words stole through him like a temptation, and to close his senses
 to it he moved away from the hearth and stood gazing out at the black
-tree-boles against the snow.  But it was as if she too had shifted her
+tree-boles against the snow. But it was as if she too had shifted her
 place, and he still saw her, between himself and the trees, drooping
-over the fire with her indolent smile.  Archer's heart was beating
-insubordinately.  What if it were from him that she had been running
+over the fire with her indolent smile. Archer's heart was beating
+insubordinately. What if it were from him that she had been running
 away, and if she had waited to tell him so till they were here alone
 together in this secret room?
 
@@ -4217,11 +4197,11 @@ whole width of the room between them, and his eyes still fixed on the
 outer snow.
 
 For a long moment she was silent; and in that moment Archer imagined
-her, almost heard her, stealing up behind him to throw her light arms
-about his neck.  While he waited, soul and body throbbing with the
-miracle to come, his eyes mechanically received the image of a
+her, almost heard her, stealing up behind him to throw her light
+arms about his neck. While he waited, soul and body throbbing with
+the miracle to come, his eyes mechanically received the image of a
 heavily-coated man with his fur collar turned up who was advancing
-along the path to the house.  The man was Julius Beaufort.
+along the path to the house. The man was Julius Beaufort.
 
 "Ah--!" Archer cried, bursting into a laugh.
 
@@ -4231,44 +4211,44 @@ shrank back.
 
 "So that was it?" Archer said derisively.
 
-"I didn't know he was here," Madame Olenska murmured.  Her hand still
+"I didn't know he was here," Madame Olenska murmured. Her hand still
 clung to Archer's; but he drew away from her, and walking out into the
 passage threw open the door of the house.
 
-"Hallo, Beaufort--this way!  Madame Olenska was expecting you," he said.
+"Hallo, Beaufort--this way! Madame Olenska was expecting you," he said.
 
 
 During his journey back to New York the next morning, Archer relived
 with a fatiguing vividness his last moments at Skuytercliff.
 
 Beaufort, though clearly annoyed at finding him with Madame Olenska,
-had, as usual, carried off the situation high-handedly.  His way of
-ignoring people whose presence inconvenienced him actually gave them,
-if they were sensitive to it, a feeling of invisibility, of
-nonexistence.  Archer, as the three strolled back through the park, was
+had, as usual, carried off the situation high-handedly. His way of
+ignoring people whose presence inconvenienced him actually gave
+them, if they were sensitive to it, a feeling of invisibility, of
+nonexistence. Archer, as the three strolled back through the park, was
 aware of this odd sense of disembodiment; and humbling as it was to his
 vanity it gave him the ghostly advantage of observing unobserved.
 
 Beaufort had entered the little house with his usual easy assurance;
-but he could not smile away the vertical line between his eyes.  It was
+but he could not smile away the vertical line between his eyes. It was
 fairly clear that Madame Olenska had not known that he was coming,
 though her words to Archer had hinted at the possibility; at any rate,
 she had evidently not told him where she was going when she left New
-York, and her unexplained departure had exasperated him.  The
-ostensible reason of his appearance was the discovery, the very night
-before, of a "perfect little house," not in the market, which was
-really just the thing for her, but would be snapped up instantly if she
-didn't take it; and he was loud in mock-reproaches for the dance she
-had led him in running away just as he had found it.
-
-"If only this new dodge for talking along a wire had been a little bit
-nearer perfection I might have told you all this from town, and been
-toasting my toes before the club fire at this minute, instead of
+York, and her unexplained departure had exasperated him. The ostensible
+reason of his appearance was the discovery, the very night before, of
+a "perfect little house," not in the market, which was really just the
+thing for her, but would be snapped up instantly if she didn't take it;
+and he was loud in mock-reproaches for the dance she had led him in
+running away just as he had found it.
+
+"If only this new dodge for talking along a wire had been a little
+bit nearer perfection I might have told you all this from town, and
+been toasting my toes before the club fire at this minute, instead of
 tramping after you through the snow," he grumbled, disguising a real
 irritation under the pretence of it; and at this opening Madame Olenska
-twisted the talk away to the fantastic possibility that they might one
-day actually converse with each other from street to street, or
-even--incredible dream!--from one town to another.  This struck from
+twisted the talk away to the fantastic possibility that they might
+one day actually converse with each other from street to street, or
+even--incredible dream!--from one town to another. This struck from
 all three allusions to Edgar Poe and Jules Verne, and such platitudes
 as naturally rise to the lips of the most intelligent when they are
 talking against time, and dealing with a new invention in which it
@@ -4277,7 +4257,7 @@ telephone carried them safely back to the big house.
 
 Mrs. van der Luyden had not yet returned; and Archer took his leave and
 walked off to fetch the cutter, while Beaufort followed the Countess
-Olenska indoors.  It was probable that, little as the van der Luydens
+Olenska indoors. It was probable that, little as the van der Luydens
 encouraged unannounced visits, he could count on being asked to dine,
 and sent back to the station to catch the nine o'clock train; but more
 than that he would certainly not get, for it would be inconceivable to
@@ -4288,68 +4268,68 @@ whom they were on terms of such limited cordiality as Beaufort.
 Beaufort knew all this, and must have foreseen it; and his taking the
 long journey for so small a reward gave the measure of his impatience.
 He was undeniably in pursuit of the Countess Olenska; and Beaufort had
-only one object in view in his pursuit of pretty women.  His dull and
+only one object in view in his pursuit of pretty women. His dull and
 childless home had long since palled on him; and in addition to more
 permanent consolations he was always in quest of amorous adventures in
-his own set.  This was the man from whom Madame Olenska was avowedly
+his own set. This was the man from whom Madame Olenska was avowedly
 flying: the question was whether she had fled because his importunities
 displeased her, or because she did not wholly trust herself to resist
 them; unless, indeed, all her talk of flight had been a blind, and her
-departure no more than a manoeuvre.
+departure no more than a manœuvre.
 
-Archer did not really believe this.  Little as he had actually seen of
+Archer did not really believe this. Little as he had actually seen of
 Madame Olenska, he was beginning to think that he could read her face,
 and if not her face, her voice; and both had betrayed annoyance, and
-even dismay, at Beaufort's sudden appearance.  But, after all, if this
+even dismay, at Beaufort's sudden appearance. But, after all, if this
 were the case, was it not worse than if she had left New York for the
-express purpose of meeting him?  If she had done that, she ceased to be
-an object of interest, she threw in her lot with the vulgarest of
+express purpose of meeting him? If she had done that, she ceased to
+be an object of interest, she threw in her lot with the vulgarest of
 dissemblers: a woman engaged in a love affair with Beaufort "classed"
 herself irretrievably.
 
 No, it was worse a thousand times if, judging Beaufort, and probably
 despising him, she was yet drawn to him by all that gave him an
-advantage over the other men about her: his habit of two continents and
-two societies, his familiar association with artists and actors and
-people generally in the world's eye, and his careless contempt for
-local prejudices.  Beaufort was vulgar, he was uneducated, he was
+advantage over the other men about her: his habit of two continents
+and two societies, his familiar association with artists and actors
+and people generally in the world's eye, and his careless contempt
+for local prejudices. Beaufort was vulgar, he was uneducated, he was
 purse-proud; but the circumstances of his life, and a certain native
 shrewdness, made him better worth talking to than many men, morally and
 socially his betters, whose horizon was bounded by the Battery and the
-Central Park.  How should any one coming from a wider world not feel
-the difference and be attracted by it?
+Central Park. How should any one coming from a wider world not feel the
+difference and be attracted by it?
 
 Madame Olenska, in a burst of irritation, had said to Archer that he
-and she did not talk the same language; and the young man knew that in
-some respects this was true.  But Beaufort understood every turn of her
-dialect, and spoke it fluently: his view of life, his tone, his
+and she did not talk the same language; and the young man knew that
+in some respects this was true. But Beaufort understood every turn of
+her dialect, and spoke it fluently: his view of life, his tone, his
 attitude, were merely a coarser reflection of those revealed in Count
-Olenski's letter.  This might seem to be to his disadvantage with Count
+Olenski's letter. This might seem to be to his disadvantage with Count
 Olenski's wife; but Archer was too intelligent to think that a young
 woman like Ellen Olenska would necessarily recoil from everything that
-reminded her of her past.  She might believe herself wholly in revolt
+reminded her of her past. She might believe herself wholly in revolt
 against it; but what had charmed her in it would still charm her, even
 though it were against her will.
 
 Thus, with a painful impartiality, did the young man make out the case
-for Beaufort, and for Beaufort's victim.  A longing to enlighten her
-was strong in him; and there were moments when he imagined that all she
+for Beaufort, and for Beaufort's victim. A longing to enlighten her was
+strong in him; and there were moments when he imagined that all she
 asked was to be enlightened.
 
-That evening he unpacked his books from London.  The box was full of
+That evening he unpacked his books from London. The box was full of
 things he had been waiting for impatiently; a new volume of Herbert
 Spencer, another collection of the prolific Alphonse Daudet's brilliant
 tales, and a novel called "Middlemarch," as to which there had lately
-been interesting things said in the reviews.  He had declined three
+been interesting things said in the reviews. He had declined three
 dinner invitations in favour of this feast; but though he turned the
-pages with the sensuous joy of the book-lover, he did not know what he
-was reading, and one book after another dropped from his hand.
+pages with the sensuous joy of the book-lover, he did not know what
+he was reading, and one book after another dropped from his hand.
 Suddenly, among them, he lit on a small volume of verse which he had
-ordered because the name had attracted him:  "The House of Life."  He
+ordered because the name had attracted him: "The House of Life." He
 took it up, and found himself plunged in an atmosphere unlike any he
 had ever breathed in books; so warm, so rich, and yet so ineffably
 tender, that it gave a new and haunting beauty to the most elementary
-of human passions.  All through the night he pursued through those
+of human passions. All through the night he pursued through those
 enchanted pages the vision of a woman who had the face of Ellen
 Olenska; but when he woke the next morning, and looked out at the
 brownstone houses across the street, and thought of his desk in Mr.
@@ -4358,36 +4338,38 @@ the park of Skuytercliff became as far outside the pale of probability
 as the visions of the night.
 
 "Mercy, how pale you look, Newland!" Janey commented over the
-coffee-cups at breakfast; and his mother added:  "Newland, dear, I've
+coffee-cups at breakfast; and his mother added: "Newland, dear, I've
 noticed lately that you've been coughing; I do hope you're not letting
-yourself be overworked?"  For it was the conviction of both ladies
-that, under the iron despotism of his senior partners, the young man's
-life was spent in the most exhausting professional labours--and he had
-never thought it necessary to undeceive them.
+yourself be overworked?" For it was the conviction of both ladies that,
+under the iron despotism of his senior partners, the young man's life
+was spent in the most exhausting professional labours--and he had never
+thought it necessary to undeceive them.
 
-The next two or three days dragged by heavily.  The taste of the usual
+The next two or three days dragged by heavily. The taste of the usual
 was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as
-if he were being buried alive under his future.  He heard nothing of
-the Countess Olenska, or of the perfect little house, and though he met
-Beaufort at the club they merely nodded at each other across the
-whist-tables.  It was not till the fourth evening that he found a note
-awaiting him on his return home.  "Come late tomorrow: I must explain
-to you.  Ellen."  These were the only words it contained.
+if he were being buried alive under his future. He heard nothing of
+the Countess Olenska, or of the perfect little house, and though he
+met Beaufort at the club they merely nodded at each other across the
+whist-tables. It was not till the fourth evening that he found a note
+awaiting him on his return home. "Come late tomorrow: I must explain to
+you. Ellen." These were the only words it contained.
 
 The young man, who was dining out, thrust the note into his pocket,
-smiling a little at the Frenchness of the "to you."  After dinner he
+smiling a little at the Frenchness of the "to you." After dinner he
 went to a play; and it was not until his return home, after midnight,
 that he drew Madame Olenska's missive out again and re-read it slowly a
-number of times.  There were several ways of answering it, and he gave
+number of times. There were several ways of answering it, and he gave
 considerable thought to each one during the watches of an agitated
-night.  That on which, when morning came, he finally decided was to
+night. That on which, when morning came, he finally decided was to
 pitch some clothes into a portmanteau and jump on board a boat that was
 leaving that very afternoon for St. Augustine.
 
 
 
+
 XVI.
 
+
 When Archer walked down the sandy main street of St. Augustine to the
 house which had been pointed out to him as Mr. Welland's, and saw May
 Welland standing under a magnolia with the sun in her hair, he wondered
@@ -4398,35 +4380,35 @@ to him; and he, who fancied himself so scornful of arbitrary
 restraints, had been afraid to break away from his desk because of what
 people might think of his stealing a holiday!
 
-Her first exclamation was:  "Newland--has anything happened?" and it
+Her first exclamation was: "Newland--has anything happened?" and it
 occurred to him that it would have been more "feminine" if she had
-instantly read in his eyes why he had come.  But when he answered:
+instantly read in his eyes why he had come. But when he answered:
 "Yes--I found I had to see you," her happy blushes took the chill from
 her surprise, and he saw how easily he would be forgiven, and how soon
 even Mr. Letterblair's mild disapproval would be smiled away by a
 tolerant family.
 
 Early as it was, the main street was no place for any but formal
-greetings, and Archer longed to be alone with May, and to pour out all
-his tenderness and his impatience.  It still lacked an hour to the late
-Welland breakfast-time, and instead of asking him to come in she
+greetings, and Archer longed to be alone with May, and to pour out
+all his tenderness and his impatience. It still lacked an hour to the
+late Welland breakfast-time, and instead of asking him to come in she
 proposed that they should walk out to an old orange-garden beyond the
-town.  She had just been for a row on the river, and the sun that
-netted the little waves with gold seemed to have caught her in its
-meshes.  Across the warm brown of her cheek her blown hair glittered
-like silver wire; and her eyes too looked lighter, almost pale in their
-youthful limpidity.  As she walked beside Archer with her long swinging
-gait her face wore the vacant serenity of a young marble athlete.
+town. She had just been for a row on the river, and the sun that netted
+the little waves with gold seemed to have caught her in its meshes.
+Across the warm brown of her cheek her blown hair glittered like silver
+wire; and her eyes too looked lighter, almost pale in their youthful
+limpidity. As she walked beside Archer with her long swinging gait her
+face wore the vacant serenity of a young marble athlete.
 
 To Archer's strained nerves the vision was as soothing as the sight of
-the blue sky and the lazy river.  They sat down on a bench under the
-orange-trees and he put his arm about her and kissed her.  It was like
+the blue sky and the lazy river. They sat down on a bench under the
+orange-trees and he put his arm about her and kissed her. It was like
 drinking at a cold spring with the sun on it; but his pressure may have
 been more vehement than he had intended, for the blood rose to her face
 and she drew back as if he had startled her.
 
 "What is it?" he asked, smiling; and she looked at him with surprise,
-and answered:  "Nothing."
+and answered: "Nothing."
 
 A slight embarrassment fell on them, and her hand slipped out of his.
 It was the only time that he had kissed her on the lips except for
@@ -4438,39 +4420,39 @@ tilted-back head, and pushing his hat forward to screen the sun-dazzle.
 To let her talk about familiar and simple things was the easiest way of
 carrying on his own independent train of thought; and he sat listening
 to her simple chronicle of swimming, sailing and riding, varied by an
-occasional dance at the primitive inn when a man-of-war came in.  A few
+occasional dance at the primitive inn when a man-of-war came in. A few
 pleasant people from Philadelphia and Baltimore were picknicking at the
 inn, and the Selfridge Merrys had come down for three weeks because
-Kate Merry had had bronchitis.  They were planning to lay out a lawn
+Kate Merry had had bronchitis. They were planning to lay out a lawn
 tennis court on the sands; but no one but Kate and May had racquets,
 and most of the people had not even heard of the game.
 
 All this kept her very busy, and she had not had time to do more than
 look at the little vellum book that Archer had sent her the week before
-(the "Sonnets from the Portuguese"); but she was learning by heart "How
-they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix," because it was one of
-the first things he had ever read to her; and it amused her to be able
-to tell him that Kate Merry had never even heard of a poet called
+(the "Sonnets from the Portuguese"); but she was learning by heart
+"How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix," because it was one
+of the first things he had ever read to her; and it amused her to be
+able to tell him that Kate Merry had never even heard of a poet called
 Robert Browning.
 
 Presently she started up, exclaiming that they would be late for
 breakfast; and they hurried back to the tumble-down house with its
 pointless porch and unpruned hedge of plumbago and pink geraniums where
-the Wellands were installed for the winter.  Mr. Welland's sensitive
-domesticity shrank from the discomforts of the slovenly southern hotel,
-and at immense expense, and in face of almost insuperable difficulties,
-Mrs. Welland was obliged, year after year, to improvise an
-establishment partly made up of discontented New York servants and
+the Wellands were installed for the winter. Mr. Welland's sensitive
+domesticity shrank from the discomforts of the slovenly southern
+hotel, and at immense expense, and in face of almost insuperable
+difficulties, Mrs. Welland was obliged, year after year, to improvise
+an establishment partly made up of discontented New York servants and
 partly drawn from the local African supply.
 
 "The doctors want my husband to feel that he is in his own home;
-otherwise he would be so wretched that the climate would not do him any
-good," she explained, winter after winter, to the sympathising
+otherwise he would be so wretched that the climate would not do him
+any good," she explained, winter after winter, to the sympathising
 Philadelphians and Baltimoreans; and Mr. Welland, beaming across a
 breakfast table miraculously supplied with the most varied delicacies,
 was presently saying to Archer: "You see, my dear fellow, we camp--we
-literally camp.  I tell my wife and May that I want to teach them how
-to rough it."
+literally camp. I tell my wife and May that I want to teach them how to
+rough it."
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Welland had been as much surprised as their daughter by
 the young man's sudden arrival; but it had occurred to him to explain
@@ -4479,22 +4461,22 @@ to Mr. Welland an all-sufficient reason for abandoning any duty.
 
 "You can't be too careful, especially toward spring," he said, heaping
 his plate with straw-coloured griddle-cakes and drowning them in golden
-syrup.  "If I'd only been as prudent at your age May would have been
+syrup. "If I'd only been as prudent at your age May would have been
 dancing at the Assemblies now, instead of spending her winters in a
 wilderness with an old invalid."
 
-"Oh, but I love it here, Papa; you know I do.  If only Newland could
+"Oh, but I love it here, Papa; you know I do. If only Newland could
 stay I should like it a thousand times better than New York."
 
 "Newland must stay till he has quite thrown off his cold," said Mrs.
 Welland indulgently; and the young man laughed, and said he supposed
 there was such a thing as one's profession.
 
-He managed, however, after an exchange of telegrams with the firm, to
-make his cold last a week; and it shed an ironic light on the situation
-to know that Mr. Letterblair's indulgence was partly due to the
-satisfactory way in which his brilliant young junior partner had
-settled the troublesome matter of the Olenski divorce.  Mr. Letterblair
+He managed, however, after an exchange of telegrams with the firm,
+to make his cold last a week; and it shed an ironic light on the
+situation to know that Mr. Letterblair's indulgence was partly due to
+the satisfactory way in which his brilliant young junior partner had
+settled the troublesome matter of the Olenski divorce. Mr. Letterblair
 had let Mrs. Welland know that Mr. Archer had "rendered an invaluable
 service" to the whole family, and that old Mrs. Manson Mingott had been
 particularly pleased; and one day when May had gone for a drive with
@@ -4502,41 +4484,41 @@ her father in the only vehicle the place produced Mrs. Welland took
 occasion to touch on a topic which she always avoided in her daughter's
 presence.
 
-"I'm afraid Ellen's ideas are not at all like ours.  She was barely
+"I'm afraid Ellen's ideas are not at all like ours. She was barely
 eighteen when Medora Manson took her back to Europe--you remember the
-excitement when she appeared in black at her coming-out ball?  Another
-of Medora's fads--really this time it was almost prophetic!  That must
+excitement when she appeared in black at her coming-out ball? Another
+of Medora's fads--really this time it was almost prophetic! That must
 have been at least twelve years ago; and since then Ellen has never
-been to America.  No wonder she is completely Europeanised."
+been to America. No wonder she is completely Europeanised."
 
 "But European society is not given to divorce: Countess Olenska thought
 she would be conforming to American ideas in asking for her freedom."
 It was the first time that the young man had pronounced her name since
 he had left Skuytercliff, and he felt the colour rise to his cheek.
 
-Mrs. Welland smiled compassionately.  "That is just like the
+Mrs. Welland smiled compassionately. "That is just like the
 extraordinary things that foreigners invent about us. They think we
-dine at two o'clock and countenance divorce!  That is why it seems to
-me so foolish to entertain them when they come to New York.  They
-accept our hospitality, and then they go home and repeat the same
-stupid stories."
+dine at two o'clock and countenance divorce! That is why it seems to me
+so foolish to entertain them when they come to New York. They accept
+our hospitality, and then they go home and repeat the same stupid
+stories."
 
-Archer made no comment on this, and Mrs. Welland continued:  "But we do
+Archer made no comment on this, and Mrs. Welland continued: "But we do
 most thoroughly appreciate your persuading Ellen to give up the idea.
 Her grandmother and her uncle Lovell could do nothing with her; both of
 them have written that her changing her mind was entirely due to your
-influence--in fact she said so to her grandmother.  She has an
-unbounded admiration for you.  Poor Ellen--she was always a wayward
-child.  I wonder what her fate will be?"
+influence--in fact she said so to her grandmother. She has an unbounded
+admiration for you. Poor Ellen--she was always a wayward child. I
+wonder what her fate will be?"
 
-"What we've all contrived to make it," he felt like answering.  "If
+"What we've all contrived to make it," he felt like answering. "If
 you'd all of you rather she should be Beaufort's mistress than some
 decent fellow's wife you've certainly gone the right way about it."
 
 He wondered what Mrs. Welland would have said if he had uttered the
-words instead of merely thinking them.  He could picture the sudden
+words instead of merely thinking them. He could picture the sudden
 decomposure of her firm placid features, to which a lifelong mastery
-over trifles had given an air of factitious authority.  Traces still
+over trifles had given an air of factitious authority. Traces still
 lingered on them of a fresh beauty like her daughter's; and he asked
 himself if May's face was doomed to thicken into the same middle-aged
 image of invincible innocence.
@@ -4547,173 +4529,172 @@ experience!
 
 "I verily believe," Mrs. Welland continued, "that if the horrible
 business had come out in the newspapers it would have been my husband's
-death-blow.  I don't know any of the details; I only ask not to, as I
-told poor Ellen when she tried to talk to me about it.  Having an
-invalid to care for, I have to keep my mind bright and happy.  But Mr.
+death-blow. I don't know any of the details; I only ask not to, as
+I told poor Ellen when she tried to talk to me about it. Having an
+invalid to care for, I have to keep my mind bright and happy. But Mr.
 Welland was terribly upset; he had a slight temperature every morning
-while we were waiting to hear what had been decided.  It was the horror
+while we were waiting to hear what had been decided. It was the horror
 of his girl's learning that such things were possible--but of course,
-dear Newland, you felt that too.  We all knew that you were thinking of
+dear Newland, you felt that too. We all knew that you were thinking of
 May."
 
 "I'm always thinking of May," the young man rejoined, rising to cut
 short the conversation.
 
 He had meant to seize the opportunity of his private talk with Mrs.
-Welland to urge her to advance the date of his marriage.  But he could
+Welland to urge her to advance the date of his marriage. But he could
 think of no arguments that would move her, and with a sense of relief
 he saw Mr. Welland and May driving up to the door.
 
 His only hope was to plead again with May, and on the day before his
 departure he walked with her to the ruinous garden of the Spanish
-Mission.  The background lent itself to allusions to European scenes;
-and May, who was looking her loveliest under a wide-brimmed hat that
-cast a shadow of mystery over her too-clear eyes, kindled into
+Mission. The background lent itself to allusions to European scenes;
+and May, who was looking her loveliest under a wide-brimmed hat
+that cast a shadow of mystery over her too-clear eyes, kindled into
 eagerness as he spoke of Granada and the Alhambra.
 
 "We might be seeing it all this spring--even the Easter ceremonies at
 Seville," he urged, exaggerating his demands in the hope of a larger
 concession.
 
-"Easter in Seville?  And it will be Lent next week!" she laughed.
+"Easter in Seville? And it will be Lent next week!" she laughed.
 
 "Why shouldn't we be married in Lent?" he rejoined; but she looked so
 shocked that he saw his mistake.
 
 "Of course I didn't mean that, dearest; but soon after Easter--so that
-we could sail at the end of April.  I know I could arrange it at the
+we could sail at the end of April. I know I could arrange it at the
 office."
 
 She smiled dreamily upon the possibility; but he perceived that to
-dream of it sufficed her.  It was like hearing him read aloud out of
-his poetry books the beautiful things that could not possibly happen in
+dream of it sufficed her. It was like hearing him read aloud out of his
+poetry books the beautiful things that could not possibly happen in
 real life.
 
 "Oh, do go on, Newland; I do love your descriptions."
 
-"But why should they be only descriptions?  Why shouldn't we make them
+"But why should they be only descriptions? Why shouldn't we make them
 real?"
 
-"We shall, dearest, of course; next year."  Her voice lingered over it.
+"We shall, dearest, of course; next year." Her voice lingered over it.
 
-"Don't you want them to be real sooner?  Can't I persuade you to break
+"Don't you want them to be real sooner? Can't I persuade you to break
 away now?"
 
 She bowed her head, vanishing from him under her conniving hat-brim.
 
-"Why should we dream away another year?  Look at me, dear!  Don't you
+"Why should we dream away another year? Look at me, dear! Don't you
 understand how I want you for my wife?"
 
 For a moment she remained motionless; then she raised on him eyes of
-such despairing dearness that he half-released her waist from his hold.
-But suddenly her look changed and deepened inscrutably.  "I'm not sure
-if I DO understand," she said.  "Is it--is it because you're not
-certain of continuing to care for me?"
+such despairing clearness that he half-released her waist from his hold.
+But suddenly her look changed and deepened inscrutably. "I'm not sure
+if I _do_ understand," she said. "Is it--is it because you're not certain
+of continuing to care for me?"
 
-Archer sprang up from his seat.  "My God--perhaps--I don't know," he
+Archer sprang up from his seat. "My God--perhaps--I don't know," he
 broke out angrily.
 
-May Welland rose also; as they faced each other she seemed to grow in
-womanly stature and dignity.  Both were silent for a moment, as if
+May Welland rose also; as they faced each other she seemed to grow
+in womanly stature and dignity. Both were silent for a moment, as if
 dismayed by the unforeseen trend of their words: then she said in a low
 voice: "If that is it--is there some one else?"
 
-"Some one else--between you and me?"  He echoed her words slowly, as
+"Some one else--between you and me?" He echoed her words slowly, as
 though they were only half-intelligible and he wanted time to repeat
-the question to himself.  She seemed to catch the uncertainty of his
-voice, for she went on in a deepening tone:  "Let us talk frankly,
-Newland.  Sometimes I've felt a difference in you; especially since our
+the question to himself. She seemed to catch the uncertainty of his
+voice, for she went on in a deepening tone: "Let us talk frankly,
+Newland. Sometimes I've felt a difference in you; especially since our
 engagement has been announced."
 
 "Dear--what madness!" he recovered himself to exclaim.
 
-She met his protest with a faint smile.  "If it is, it won't hurt us to
-talk about it."  She paused, and added, lifting her head with one of
-her noble movements:  "Or even if it's true: why shouldn't we speak of
-it?  You might so easily have made a mistake."
+She met his protest with a faint smile. "If it is, it won't hurt us to
+talk about it." She paused, and added, lifting her head with one of her
+noble movements: "Or even if it's true: why shouldn't we speak of it?
+You might so easily have made a mistake."
 
 He lowered his head, staring at the black leaf-pattern on the sunny
-path at their feet.  "Mistakes are always easy to make; but if I had
+path at their feet. "Mistakes are always easy to make; but if I had
 made one of the kind you suggest, is it likely that I should be
 imploring you to hasten our marriage?"
 
 She looked downward too, disturbing the pattern with the point of her
-sunshade while she struggled for expression.  "Yes," she said at
-length.  "You might want--once for all--to settle the question: it's
-one way."
+sunshade while she struggled for expression. "Yes," she said at length.
+"You might want--once for all--to settle the question: it's one way."
 
 Her quiet lucidity startled him, but did not mislead him into thinking
-her insensible.  Under her hat-brim he saw the pallor of her profile,
+her insensible. Under her hat-brim he saw the pallor of her profile,
 and a slight tremor of the nostril above her resolutely steadied lips.
 
 "Well--?" he questioned, sitting down on the bench, and looking up at
 her with a frown that he tried to make playful.
 
-She dropped back into her seat and went on:  "You mustn't think that a
-girl knows as little as her parents imagine.  One hears and one
-notices--one has one's feelings and ideas.  And of course, long before
+She dropped back into her seat and went on: "You mustn't think that
+a girl knows as little as her parents imagine. One hears and one
+notices--one has one's feelings and ideas. And of course, long before
 you told me that you cared for me, I'd known that there was some one
 else you were interested in; every one was talking about it two years
-ago at Newport.  And once I saw you sitting together on the verandah at
+ago at Newport. And once I saw you sitting together on the verandah at
 a dance--and when she came back into the house her face was sad, and I
 felt sorry for her; I remembered it afterward, when we were engaged."
 
 Her voice had sunk almost to a whisper, and she sat clasping and
-unclasping her hands about the handle of her sunshade.  The young man
+unclasping her hands about the handle of her sunshade. The young man
 laid his upon them with a gentle pressure; his heart dilated with an
 inexpressible relief.
 
-"My dear child--was THAT it?  If you only knew the truth!"
+"My dear child--was _that_ it? If you only knew the truth!"
 
-She raised her head quickly.  "Then there is a truth I don't know?"
+She raised her head quickly. "Then there is a truth I don't know?"
 
-He kept his hand over hers.  "I meant, the truth about the old story
-you speak of."
+He kept his hand over hers. "I meant, the truth about the old story you
+speak of."
 
-"But that's what I want to know, Newland--what I ought to know.  I
+"But that's what I want to know, Newland--what I ought to know. I
 couldn't have my happiness made out of a wrong--an unfairness--to
-somebody else.  And I want to believe that it would be the same with
-you.  What sort of a life could we build on such foundations?"
+somebody else. And I want to believe that it would be the same with
+you. What sort of a life could we build on such foundations?"
 
 Her face had taken on a look of such tragic courage that he felt like
-bowing himself down at her feet.  "I've wanted to say this for a long
-time," she went on.  "I've wanted to tell you that, when two people
+bowing himself down at her feet. "I've wanted to say this for a long
+time," she went on. "I've wanted to tell you that, when two people
 really love each other, I understand that there may be situations which
-make it right that they should--should go against public opinion.  And
-if you feel yourself in any way pledged ... pledged to the person we've
-spoken of ...  and if there is any way ... any way in which you can
-fulfill your pledge ... even by her getting a divorce ...  Newland,
+make it right that they should--should go against public opinion. And
+if you feel yourself in any way pledged ... pledged to the person
+we've spoken of ... and if there is any way ... any way in which you
+can fulfill your pledge ... even by her getting a divorce ... Newland,
 don't give her up because of me!"
 
 His surprise at discovering that her fears had fastened upon an episode
 so remote and so completely of the past as his love-affair with Mrs.
 Thorley Rushworth gave way to wonder at the generosity of her view.
 There was something superhuman in an attitude so recklessly unorthodox,
-and if other problems had not pressed on him he would have been lost in
-wonder at the prodigy of the Wellands' daughter urging him to marry his
-former mistress.  But he was still dizzy with the glimpse of the
+and if other problems had not pressed on him he would have been lost
+in wonder at the prodigy of the Wellands' daughter urging him to marry
+his former mistress. But he was still dizzy with the glimpse of the
 precipice they had skirted, and full of a new awe at the mystery of
 young-girlhood.
 
 For a moment he could not speak; then he said: "There is no pledge--no
-obligation whatever--of the kind you think.  Such cases don't
+obligation whatever--of the kind you think. Such cases don't
 always--present themselves quite as simply as ... But that's no matter
 ... I love your generosity, because I feel as you do about those things
 ... I feel that each case must be judged individually, on its own
 merits ... irrespective of stupid conventionalities ... I mean, each
-woman's right to her liberty--"  He pulled himself up, startled by the
+woman's right to her liberty--" He pulled himself up, startled by the
 turn his thoughts had taken, and went on, looking at her with a smile:
 "Since you understand so many things, dearest, can't you go a little
 farther, and understand the uselessness of our submitting to another
-form of the same foolish conventionalities?  If there's no one and
+form of the same foolish conventionalities? If there's no one and
 nothing between us, isn't that an argument for marrying quickly, rather
 than for more delay?"
 
 She flushed with joy and lifted her face to his; as he bent to it he
-saw that her eyes were full of happy tears.  But in another moment she
+saw that her eyes were full of happy tears. But in another moment she
 seemed to have descended from her womanly eminence to helpless and
 timorous girlhood; and he understood that her courage and initiative
-were all for others, and that she had none for herself.  It was evident
+were all for others, and that she had none for herself. It was evident
 that the effort of speaking had been much greater than her studied
 composure betrayed, and that at his first word of reassurance she had
 dropped back into the usual, as a too-adventurous child takes refuge in
@@ -4721,38 +4702,40 @@ its mother's arms.
 
 Archer had no heart to go on pleading with her; he was too much
 disappointed at the vanishing of the new being who had cast that one
-deep look at him from her transparent eyes.  May seemed to be aware of
+deep look at him from her transparent eyes. May seemed to be aware of
 his disappointment, but without knowing how to alleviate it; and they
 stood up and walked silently home.
 
 
 
+
 XVII.
 
+
 "Your cousin the Countess called on mother while you were away," Janey
 Archer announced to her brother on the evening of his return.
 
 The young man, who was dining alone with his mother and sister, glanced
 up in surprise and saw Mrs. Archer's gaze demurely bent on her plate.
-Mrs. Archer did not regard her seclusion from the world as a reason for
-being forgotten by it; and Newland guessed that she was slightly
+Mrs. Archer did not regard her seclusion from the world as a reason
+for being forgotten by it; and Newland guessed that she was slightly
 annoyed that he should be surprised by Madame Olenska's visit.
 
 "She had on a black velvet polonaise with jet buttons, and a tiny green
 monkey muff; I never saw her so stylishly dressed," Janey continued.
-"She came alone, early on Sunday afternoon; luckily the fire was lit in
-the drawing-room.  She had one of those new card-cases.  She said she
+"She came alone, early on Sunday afternoon; luckily the fire was lit
+in the drawing-room. She had one of those new card-cases. She said she
 wanted to know us because you'd been so good to her."
 
-Newland laughed.  "Madame Olenska always takes that tone about her
-friends.  She's very happy at being among her own people again."
+Newland laughed. "Madame Olenska always takes that tone about her
+friends. She's very happy at being among her own people again."
 
-"Yes, so she told us," said Mrs. Archer.  "I must say she seems
-thankful to be here."
+"Yes, so she told us," said Mrs. Archer. "I must say she seems thankful
+to be here."
 
 "I hope you liked her, mother."
 
-Mrs. Archer drew her lips together.  "She certainly lays herself out to
+Mrs. Archer drew her lips together. "She certainly lays herself out to
 please, even when she is calling on an old lady."
 
 "Mother doesn't think her simple," Janey interjected, her eyes screwed
@@ -4773,89 +4756,89 @@ and when he told her that he had deserted the office without leave, and
 rushed down to St. Augustine simply because he wanted to see May, she
 gave an adipose chuckle and patted his knee with her puff-ball hand.
 
-"Ah, ah--so you kicked over the traces, did you?  And I suppose Augusta
+"Ah, ah--so you kicked over the traces, did you? And I suppose Augusta
 and Welland pulled long faces, and behaved as if the end of the world
-had come?  But little May--she knew better, I'll be bound?"
+had come? But little May--she knew better, I'll be bound?"
 
 "I hoped she did; but after all she wouldn't agree to what I'd gone
 down to ask for."
 
-"Wouldn't she indeed?  And what was that?"
+"Wouldn't she indeed? And what was that?"
 
 "I wanted to get her to promise that we should be married in April.
 What's the use of our wasting another year?"
 
 Mrs. Manson Mingott screwed up her little mouth into a grimace of mimic
-prudery and twinkled at him through malicious lids.  "'Ask Mamma,' I
-suppose--the usual story.  Ah, these Mingotts--all alike!  Born in a
-rut, and you can't root 'em out of it.  When I built this house you'd
-have thought I was moving to California!  Nobody ever HAD built above
+prudery and twinkled at him through malicious lids. "'Ask Mamma,' I
+suppose--the usual story. Ah, these Mingotts--all alike! Born in a
+rut, and you can't root 'em out of it. When I built this house you'd
+have thought I was moving to California! Nobody ever _had_ built above
 Fortieth Street--no, says I, nor above the Battery either, before
-Christopher Columbus discovered America.  No, no; not one of them wants
-to be different; they're as scared of it as the small-pox.  Ah, my dear
+Christopher Columbus discovered America. No, no; not one of them wants
+to be different; they're as scared of it as the small-pox. Ah, my dear
 Mr. Archer, I thank my stars I'm nothing but a vulgar Spicer; but
 there's not one of my own children that takes after me but my little
-Ellen."  She broke off, still twinkling at him, and asked, with the
-casual irrelevance of old age:  "Now, why in the world didn't you marry
+Ellen." She broke off, still twinkling at him, and asked, with the
+casual irrelevance of old age: "Now, why in the world didn't you marry
 my little Ellen?"
 
-Archer laughed.  "For one thing, she wasn't there to be married."
+Archer laughed. "For one thing, she wasn't there to be married."
 
-"No--to be sure; more's the pity.  And now it's too late; her life is
-finished."  She spoke with the cold-blooded complacency of the aged
-throwing earth into the grave of young hopes.  The young man's heart
-grew chill, and he said hurriedly:  "Can't I persuade you to use your
-influence with the Wellands, Mrs. Mingott?  I wasn't made for long
+"No--to be sure; more's the pity. And now it's too late; her life is
+finished." She spoke with the cold-blooded complacency of the aged
+throwing earth into the grave of young hopes. The young man's heart
+grew chill, and he said hurriedly: "Can't I persuade you to use your
+influence with the Wellands, Mrs. Mingott? I wasn't made for long
 engagements."
 
-Old Catherine beamed on him approvingly.  "No; I can see that.  You've
-got a quick eye.  When you were a little boy I've no doubt you liked to
-be helped first." She threw back her head with a laugh that made her
-chins ripple like little waves.  "Ah, here's my Ellen now!" she
-exclaimed, as the portieres parted behind her.
+Old Catherine beamed on him approvingly. "No; I can see that. You've
+got a quick eye. When you were a little boy I've no doubt you liked
+to be helped first." She threw back her head with a laugh that made
+her chins ripple like little waves. "Ah, here's my Ellen now!" she
+exclaimed, as the portières parted behind her.
 
-Madame Olenska came forward with a smile.  Her face looked vivid and
+Madame Olenska came forward with a smile. Her face looked vivid and
 happy, and she held out her hand gaily to Archer while she stooped to
 her grandmother's kiss.
 
-"I was just saying to him, my dear:  'Now, why didn't you marry my
+"I was just saying to him, my dear: 'Now, why didn't you marry my
 little Ellen?'"
 
-Madame Olenska looked at Archer, still smiling.  "And what did he
+Madame Olenska looked at Archer, still smiling. "And what did he
 answer?"
 
-"Oh, my darling, I leave you to find that out!  He's been down to
+"Oh, my darling, I leave you to find that out! He's been down to
 Florida to see his sweetheart."
 
-"Yes, I know."  She still looked at him.  "I went to see your mother,
-to ask where you'd gone.  I sent a note that you never answered, and I
-was afraid you were ill."
+"Yes, I know." She still looked at him. "I went to see your mother, to
+ask where you'd gone. I sent a note that you never answered, and I was
+afraid you were ill."
 
 He muttered something about leaving unexpectedly, in a great hurry, and
 having intended to write to her from St. Augustine.
 
-"And of course once you were there you never thought of me again!"  She
+"And of course once you were there you never thought of me again!" She
 continued to beam on him with a gaiety that might have been a studied
 assumption of indifference.
 
 "If she still needs me, she's determined not to let me see it," he
-thought, stung by her manner.  He wanted to thank her for having been
+thought, stung by her manner. He wanted to thank her for having been
 to see his mother, but under the ancestress's malicious eye he felt
 himself tongue-tied and constrained.
 
 "Look at him--in such hot haste to get married that he took French
-leave and rushed down to implore the silly girl on his knees!  That's
+leave and rushed down to implore the silly girl on his knees! That's
 something like a lover--that's the way handsome Bob Spicer carried off
 my poor mother; and then got tired of her before I was weaned--though
-they only had to wait eight months for me!  But there--you're not a
-Spicer, young man; luckily for you and for May.  It's only my poor
-Ellen that has kept any of their wicked blood; the rest of them are all
-model Mingotts," cried the old lady scornfully.
+they only had to wait eight months for me! But there--you're not a
+Spicer, young man; luckily for you and for May. It's only my poor Ellen
+that has kept any of their wicked blood; the rest of them are all model
+Mingotts," cried the old lady scornfully.
 
 Archer was aware that Madame Olenska, who had seated herself at her
-grandmother's side, was still thoughtfully scrutinising him.  The
-gaiety had faded from her eyes, and she said with great gentleness:
-"Surely, Granny, we can persuade them between us to do as he wishes."
+grandmother's side, was still thoughtfully scrutinising him. The gaiety
+had faded from her eyes, and she said with great gentleness: "Surely,
+Granny, we can persuade them between us to do as he wishes."
 
 Archer rose to go, and as his hand met Madame Olenska's he felt that
 she was waiting for him to make some allusion to her unanswered letter.
@@ -4864,72 +4847,72 @@ she was waiting for him to make some allusion to her unanswered letter.
 the room.
 
 "Whenever you like; but it must be soon if you want to see the little
-house again.  I am moving next week."
+house again. I am moving next week."
 
 A pang shot through him at the memory of his lamplit hours in the
-low-studded drawing-room.  Few as they had been, they were thick with
+low-studded drawing-room. Few as they had been, they were thick with
 memories.
 
 "Tomorrow evening?"
 
-She nodded.  "Tomorrow; yes; but early.  I'm going out."
+She nodded. "Tomorrow; yes; but early. I'm going out."
 
 The next day was a Sunday, and if she were "going out" on a Sunday
-evening it could, of course, be only to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's.  He
+evening it could, of course, be only to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's. He
 felt a slight movement of annoyance, not so much at her going there
 (for he rather liked her going where she pleased in spite of the van
 der Luydens), but because it was the kind of house at which she was
 sure to meet Beaufort, where she must have known beforehand that she
 would meet him--and where she was probably going for that purpose.
 
-"Very well; tomorrow evening," he repeated, inwardly resolved that he
-would not go early, and that by reaching her door late he would either
-prevent her from going to Mrs. Struthers's, or else arrive after she
-had started--which, all things considered, would no doubt be the
+"Very well; tomorrow evening," he repeated, inwardly resolved that
+he would not go early, and that by reaching her door late he would
+either prevent her from going to Mrs. Struthers's, or else arrive after
+she had started--which, all things considered, would no doubt be the
 simplest solution.
 
 
-It was only half-past eight, after all, when he rang the bell under the
-wisteria; not as late as he had intended by half an hour--but a
-singular restlessness had driven him to her door.  He reflected,
+It was only half-past eight, after all, when he rang the bell under
+the wisteria; not as late as he had intended by half an hour--but
+a singular restlessness had driven him to her door. He reflected,
 however, that Mrs. Struthers's Sunday evenings were not like a ball,
 and that her guests, as if to minimise their delinquency, usually went
 early.
 
 The one thing he had not counted on, in entering Madame Olenska's hall,
-was to find hats and overcoats there.  Why had she bidden him to come
-early if she was having people to dine?  On a closer inspection of the
-garments besides which Nastasia was laying his own, his resentment gave
-way to curiosity.  The overcoats were in fact the very strangest he had
-ever seen under a polite roof; and it took but a glance to assure
-himself that neither of them belonged to Julius Beaufort.  One was a
-shaggy yellow ulster of "reach-me-down" cut, the other a very old and
-rusty cloak with a cape--something like what the French called a
-"Macfarlane." This garment, which appeared to be made for a person of
-prodigious size, had evidently seen long and hard wear, and its
+was to find hats and overcoats there. Why had she bidden him to come
+early if she was having people to dine? On a closer inspection of the
+garments besides which Nastasia was laying his own, his resentment
+gave way to curiosity. The overcoats were in fact the very strangest
+he had ever seen under a polite roof; and it took but a glance to
+assure himself that neither of them belonged to Julius Beaufort. One
+was a shaggy yellow ulster of "reach-me-down" cut, the other a very
+old and rusty cloak with a cape--something like what the French called
+a "Macfarlane." This garment, which appeared to be made for a person
+of prodigious size, had evidently seen long and hard wear, and its
 greenish-black folds gave out a moist sawdusty smell suggestive of
-prolonged sessions against bar-room walls.  On it lay a ragged grey
+prolonged sessions against bar-room walls. On it lay a ragged grey
 scarf and an odd felt hat of semiclerical shape.
 
 Archer raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Nastasia, who raised hers in
 return with a fatalistic "Gia!" as she threw open the drawing-room door.
 
 The young man saw at once that his hostess was not in the room; then,
-with surprise, he discovered another lady standing by the fire.  This
+with surprise, he discovered another lady standing by the fire. This
 lady, who was long, lean and loosely put together, was clad in raiment
 intricately looped and fringed, with plaids and stripes and bands of
-plain colour disposed in a design to which the clue seemed missing.
-Her hair, which had tried to turn white and only succeeded in fading,
-was surmounted by a Spanish comb and black lace scarf, and silk
-mittens, visibly darned, covered her rheumatic hands.
+plain colour disposed in a design to which the clue seemed missing. Her
+hair, which had tried to turn white and only succeeded in fading, was
+surmounted by a Spanish comb and black lace scarf, and silk mittens,
+visibly darned, covered her rheumatic hands.
 
 Beside her, in a cloud of cigar-smoke, stood the owners of the two
 overcoats, both in morning clothes that they had evidently not taken
-off since morning.  In one of the two, Archer, to his surprise,
-recognised Ned Winsett; the other and older, who was unknown to him,
-and whose gigantic frame declared him to be the wearer of the
-"Macfarlane," had a feebly leonine head with crumpled grey hair, and
-moved his arms with large pawing gestures, as though he were
+off since morning. In one of the two, Archer, to his surprise,
+recognised Ned Winsett; the other and older, who was unknown to
+him, and whose gigantic frame declared him to be the wearer of the
+"Macfarlane," had a feebly leonine head with crumpled grey hair,
+and moved his arms with large pawing gestures, as though he were
 distributing lay blessings to a kneeling multitude.
 
 These three persons stood together on the hearth-rug, their eyes fixed
@@ -4944,54 +4927,54 @@ as Archer came in.
 The three turned with surprise at his appearance, and the lady,
 advancing, held out her hand.
 
-"Dear Mr. Archer--almost my cousin Newland!" she said.  "I am the
+"Dear Mr. Archer--almost my cousin Newland!" she said. "I am the
 Marchioness Manson."
 
-Archer bowed, and she continued:  "My Ellen has taken me in for a few
-days.  I came from Cuba, where I have been spending the winter with
+Archer bowed, and she continued: "My Ellen has taken me in for a few
+days. I came from Cuba, where I have been spending the winter with
 Spanish friends--such delightful distinguished people: the highest
-nobility of old Castile--how I wish you could know them!  But I was
-called away by our dear great friend here, Dr. Carver.  You don't know
+nobility of old Castile--how I wish you could know them! But I was
+called away by our dear great friend here, Dr. Carver. You don't know
 Dr. Agathon Carver, founder of the Valley of Love Community?"
 
 Dr. Carver inclined his leonine head, and the Marchioness continued:
 "Ah, New York--New York--how little the life of the spirit has reached
-it!  But I see you do know Mr. Winsett."
+it! But I see you do know Mr. Winsett."
 
 "Oh, yes--I reached him some time ago; but not by that route," Winsett
 said with his dry smile.
 
-The Marchioness shook her head reprovingly.  "How do you know, Mr.
-Winsett?  The spirit bloweth where it listeth."
+The Marchioness shook her head reprovingly. "How do you know, Mr.
+Winsett? The spirit bloweth where it listeth."
 
 "List--oh, list!" interjected Dr. Carver in a stentorian murmur.
 
-"But do sit down, Mr. Archer.  We four have been having a delightful
-little dinner together, and my child has gone up to dress.  She expects
-you; she will be down in a moment.  We were just admiring these
+"But do sit down, Mr. Archer. We four have been having a delightful
+little dinner together, and my child has gone up to dress. She expects
+you; she will be down in a moment. We were just admiring these
 marvellous flowers, which will surprise her when she reappears."
 
-Winsett remained on his feet.  "I'm afraid I must be off.  Please tell
+Winsett remained on his feet. "I'm afraid I must be off. Please tell
 Madame Olenska that we shall all feel lost when she abandons our
-street.  This house has been an oasis."
+street. This house has been an oasis."
 
-"Ah, but she won't abandon YOU.  Poetry and art are the breath of life
-to her.  It IS poetry you write, Mr. Winsett?"
+"Ah, but she won't abandon _you_. Poetry and art are the breath of life
+to her. It _is_ poetry you write, Mr. Winsett?"
 
 "Well, no; but I sometimes read it," said Winsett, including the group
 in a general nod and slipping out of the room.
 
-"A caustic spirit--un peu sauvage.  But so witty; Dr. Carver, you DO
+"A caustic spirit--_un peu sauvage_. But so witty; Dr. Carver, you _do_
 think him witty?"
 
 "I never think of wit," said Dr. Carver severely.
 
-"Ah--ah--you never think of wit!  How merciless he is to us weak
-mortals, Mr. Archer!  But he lives only in the life of the spirit; and
+"Ah--ah--you never think of wit! How merciless he is to us weak
+mortals, Mr. Archer! But he lives only in the life of the spirit; and
 tonight he is mentally preparing the lecture he is to deliver presently
-at Mrs. Blenker's.  Dr. Carver, would there be time, before you start
+at Mrs. Blenker's. Dr. Carver, would there be time, before you start
 for the Blenkers' to explain to Mr. Archer your illuminating discovery
-of the Direct Contact?  But no; I see it is nearly nine o'clock, and we
+of the Direct Contact? But no; I see it is nearly nine o'clock, and we
 have no right to detain you while so many are waiting for your message."
 
 Dr. Carver looked slightly disappointed at this conclusion, but, having
@@ -5000,25 +4983,26 @@ travelling-clock, he reluctantly gathered up his mighty limbs for
 departure.
 
 "I shall see you later, dear friend?" he suggested to the Marchioness,
-who replied with a smile:  "As soon as Ellen's carriage comes I will
+who replied with a smile: "As soon as Ellen's carriage comes I will
 join you; I do hope the lecture won't have begun."
 
-Dr. Carver looked thoughtfully at Archer.  "Perhaps, if this young
+Dr. Carver looked thoughtfully at Archer. "Perhaps, if this young
 gentleman is interested in my experiences, Mrs. Blenker might allow you
 to bring him with you?"
 
 "Oh, dear friend, if it were possible--I am sure she would be too
-happy.  But I fear my Ellen counts on Mr. Archer herself."
+happy. But I fear my Ellen counts on Mr. Archer herself."
 
-"That," said Dr. Carver, "is unfortunate--but here is my card."  He
+"That," said Dr. Carver, "is unfortunate--but here is my card." He
 handed it to Archer, who read on it, in Gothic characters:
 
-  +---------------------------+
-  |      Agathon Carver       |
-  |    The Valley of Love     |
-  |   Kittasquattamy, N. Y.   |
-  +---------------------------+
-
+/c
++-----------------------+
+|    Agathon Carver     |
+|  The Valley of Love   |
+| Kittasquattamy, N. Y. |
++-----------------------+
+c/
 
 Dr. Carver bowed himself out, and Mrs. Manson, with a sigh that might
 have been either of regret or relief, again waved Archer to a seat.
@@ -5028,60 +5012,59 @@ this quiet moment with you."
 
 Archer murmured his pleasure at their meeting, and the Marchioness
 continued, in her low sighing accents: "I know everything, dear Mr.
-Archer--my child has told me all you have done for her.  Your wise
+Archer--my child has told me all you have done for her. Your wise
 advice: your courageous firmness--thank heaven it was not too late!"
 
-The young man listened with considerable embarrassment.  Was there any
-one, he wondered, to whom Madame Olenska had not proclaimed his
+The young man listened with considerable embarrassment. Was there
+any one, he wondered, to whom Madame Olenska had not proclaimed his
 intervention in her private affairs?
 
 "Madame Olenska exaggerates; I simply gave her a legal opinion, as she
 asked me to."
 
 "Ah, but in doing it--in doing it you were the unconscious instrument
-of--of--what word have we moderns for Providence, Mr. Archer?" cried
-the lady, tilting her head on one side and drooping her lids
-mysteriously.  "Little did you know that at that very moment I was
-being appealed to: being approached, in fact--from the other side of
-the Atlantic!"
+of--of--what word have we moderns for Providence, Mr. Archer?"
+cried the lady, tilting her head on one side and drooping her lids
+mysteriously. "Little did you know that at that very moment I was being
+appealed to: being approached, in fact--from the other side of the
+Atlantic!"
 
 She glanced over her shoulder, as though fearful of being overheard,
 and then, drawing her chair nearer, and raising a tiny ivory fan to her
-lips, breathed behind it:  "By the Count himself--my poor, mad, foolish
+lips, breathed behind it: "By the Count himself--my poor, mad, foolish
 Olenski; who asks only to take her back on her own terms."
 
 "Good God!" Archer exclaimed, springing up.
 
-"You are horrified?  Yes, of course; I understand.  I don't defend poor
-Stanislas, though he has always called me his best friend.  He does not
-defend himself--he casts himself at her feet: in my person."  She
-tapped her emaciated bosom.  "I have his letter here."
+"You are horrified? Yes, of course; I understand. I don't defend poor
+Stanislas, though he has always called me his best friend. He does not
+defend himself--he casts himself at her feet: in my person." She tapped
+her emaciated bosom. "I have his letter here."
 
 "A letter?--Has Madame Olenska seen it?" Archer stammered, his brain
 whirling with the shock of the announcement.
 
-The Marchioness Manson shook her head softly.  "Time--time; I must have
-time.  I know my Ellen--haughty, intractable; shall I say, just a shade
+The Marchioness Manson shook her head softly. "Time--time; I must have
+time. I know my Ellen--haughty, intractable; shall I say, just a shade
 unforgiving?"
 
 "But, good heavens, to forgive is one thing; to go back into that
 hell--"
 
-"Ah, yes," the Marchioness acquiesced.  "So she describes it--my
-sensitive child!  But on the material side, Mr. Archer, if one may
-stoop to consider such things; do you know what she is giving up?
-Those roses there on the sofa--acres like them, under glass and in the
-open, in his matchless terraced gardens at Nice!  Jewels--historic
-pearls: the Sobieski emeralds--sables,--but she cares nothing for all
-these!  Art and beauty, those she does care for, she lives for, as I
-always have; and those also surrounded her.  Pictures, priceless
-furniture, music, brilliant conversation--ah, that, my dear young man,
-if you'll excuse me, is what you've no conception of here!  And she had
-it all; and the homage of the greatest.  She tells me she is not
-thought handsome in New York--good heavens!  Her portrait has been
-painted nine times; the greatest artists in Europe have begged for the
-privilege.  Are these things nothing?  And the remorse of an adoring
-husband?"
+"Ah, yes," the Marchioness acquiesced. "So she describes it--my
+sensitive child! But on the material side, Mr. Archer, if one may stoop
+to consider such things; do you know what she is giving up? Those roses
+there on the sofa--acres like them, under glass and in the open, in
+his matchless terraced gardens at Nice! Jewels--historic pearls: the
+Sobieski emeralds--sables,--but she cares nothing for all these! Art
+and beauty, those she does care for, she lives for, as I always have;
+and those also surrounded her. Pictures, priceless furniture, music,
+brilliant conversation--ah, that, my dear young man, if you'll excuse
+me, is what you've no conception of here! And she had it all; and the
+homage of the greatest. She tells me she is not thought handsome in
+New York--good heavens! Her portrait has been painted nine times; the
+greatest artists in Europe have begged for the privilege. Are these
+things nothing? And the remorse of an adoring husband?"
 
 As the Marchioness Manson rose to her climax her face assumed an
 expression of ecstatic retrospection which would have moved Archer's
@@ -5089,39 +5072,41 @@ mirth had he not been numb with amazement.
 
 He would have laughed if any one had foretold to him that his first
 sight of poor Medora Manson would have been in the guise of a messenger
-of Satan; but he was in no mood for laughing now, and she seemed to him
-to come straight out of the hell from which Ellen Olenska had just
+of Satan; but he was in no mood for laughing now, and she seemed to
+him to come straight out of the hell from which Ellen Olenska had just
 escaped.
 
 "She knows nothing yet--of all this?" he asked abruptly.
 
-Mrs. Manson laid a purple finger on her lips.  "Nothing directly--but
-does she suspect?  Who can tell?  The truth is, Mr. Archer, I have been
-waiting to see you.  From the moment I heard of the firm stand you had
+Mrs. Manson laid a purple finger on her lips. "Nothing directly--but
+does she suspect? Who can tell? The truth is, Mr. Archer, I have been
+waiting to see you. From the moment I heard of the firm stand you had
 taken, and of your influence over her, I hoped it might be possible to
 count on your support--to convince you ..."
 
-"That she ought to go back?  I would rather see her dead!" cried the
+"That she ought to go back? I would rather see her dead!" cried the
 young man violently.
 
-"Ah," the Marchioness murmured, without visible resentment.  For a
-while she sat in her arm-chair, opening and shutting the absurd ivory
-fan between her mittened fingers; but suddenly she lifted her head and
+"Ah," the Marchioness murmured, without visible resentment. For a while
+she sat in her arm-chair, opening and shutting the absurd ivory fan
+between her mittened fingers; but suddenly she lifted her head and
 listened.
 
 "Here she comes," she said in a rapid whisper; and then, pointing to
-the bouquet on the sofa:  "Am I to understand that you prefer THAT, Mr.
-Archer?  After all, marriage is marriage ... and my niece is still a
+the bouquet on the sofa: "Am I to understand that you prefer _that_, Mr.
+Archer? After all, marriage is marriage ... and my niece is still a
 wife..."
 
 
 
+
 XVIII.
 
+
 "What are you two plotting together, aunt Medora?" Madame Olenska cried
 as she came into the room.
 
-She was dressed as if for a ball.  Everything about her shimmered and
+She was dressed as if for a ball. Everything about her shimmered and
 glimmered softly, as if her dress had been woven out of candle-beams;
 and she carried her head high, like a pretty woman challenging a
 roomful of rivals.
@@ -5130,29 +5115,29 @@ roomful of rivals.
 you with," Mrs. Manson rejoined, rising to her feet and pointing archly
 to the flowers.
 
-Madame Olenska stopped short and looked at the bouquet.  Her colour did
+Madame Olenska stopped short and looked at the bouquet. Her colour did
 not change, but a sort of white radiance of anger ran over her like
-summer lightning.  "Ah," she exclaimed, in a shrill voice that the
-young man had never heard, "who is ridiculous enough to send me a
-bouquet?  Why a bouquet?  And why tonight of all nights?  I am not
-going to a ball; I am not a girl engaged to be married.  But some
-people are always ridiculous."
+summer lightning. "Ah," she exclaimed, in a shrill voice that the young
+man had never heard, "who is ridiculous enough to send me a bouquet?
+Why a bouquet? And why tonight of all nights? I am not going to a ball;
+I am not a girl engaged to be married. But some people are always
+ridiculous."
 
-She turned back to the door, opened it, and called out:  "Nastasia!"
+She turned back to the door, opened it, and called out: "Nastasia!"
 
-The ubiquitous handmaiden promptly appeared, and Archer heard Madame
-Olenska say, in an Italian that she seemed to pronounce with
-intentional deliberateness in order that he might follow it:
+The ubiquitous handmaiden promptly appeared, and Archer heard
+Madame Olenska say, in an Italian that she seemed to pronounce
+with intentional deliberateness in order that he might follow it:
 "Here--throw this into the dustbin!" and then, as Nastasia stared
-protestingly:  "But no--it's not the fault of the poor flowers.  Tell
+protestingly: "But no--it's not the fault of the poor flowers. Tell
 the boy to carry them to the house three doors away, the house of Mr.
-Winsett, the dark gentleman who dined here.  His wife is ill--they may
-give her pleasure ... The boy is out, you say?  Then, my dear one, run
-yourself; here, put my cloak over you and fly.  I want the thing out of
-the house immediately!  And, as you live, don't say they come from me!"
+Winsett, the dark gentleman who dined here. His wife is ill--they may
+give her pleasure ... The boy is out, you say? Then, my dear one, run
+yourself; here, put my cloak over you and fly. I want the thing out of
+the house immediately! And, as you live, don't say they come from me!"
 
 She flung her velvet opera cloak over the maid's shoulders and turned
-back into the drawing-room, shutting the door sharply.  Her bosom was
+back into the drawing-room, shutting the door sharply. Her bosom was
 rising high under its lace, and for a moment Archer thought she was
 about to cry; but she burst into a laugh instead, and looking from the
 Marchioness to Archer, asked abruptly: "And you two--have you made
@@ -5162,49 +5147,48 @@ friends!"
 were dressing."
 
 "Yes--I gave you time enough: my hair wouldn't go," Madame Olenska
-said, raising her hand to the heaped-up curls of her chignon.  "But
+said, raising her hand to the heaped-up curls of her chignon. "But
 that reminds me: I see Dr. Carver is gone, and you'll be late at the
-Blenkers'.  Mr. Archer, will you put my aunt in the carriage?"
+Blenkers'. Mr. Archer, will you put my aunt in the carriage?"
 
 She followed the Marchioness into the hall, saw her fitted into a
 miscellaneous heap of overshoes, shawls and tippets, and called from
-the doorstep:  "Mind, the carriage is to be back for me at ten!"  Then
+the doorstep: "Mind, the carriage is to be back for me at ten!" Then
 she returned to the drawing-room, where Archer, on re-entering it,
 found her standing by the mantelpiece, examining herself in the mirror.
 It was not usual, in New York society, for a lady to address her
-parlour-maid as "my dear one," and send her out on an errand wrapped in
-her own opera-cloak; and Archer, through all his deeper feelings,
+parlour-maid as "my dear one," and send her out on an errand wrapped
+in her own opera-cloak; and Archer, through all his deeper feelings,
 tasted the pleasurable excitement of being in a world where action
 followed on emotion with such Olympian speed.
 
 Madame Olenska did not move when he came up behind her, and for a
 second their eyes met in the mirror; then she turned, threw herself
-into her sofa-corner, and sighed out:  "There's time for a cigarette."
+into her sofa-corner, and sighed out: "There's time for a cigarette."
 
 He handed her the box and lit a spill for her; and as the flame flashed
-up into her face she glanced at him with laughing eyes and said:  "What
+up into her face she glanced at him with laughing eyes and said: "What
 do you think of me in a temper?"
 
-Archer paused a moment; then he answered with sudden resolution:  "It
+Archer paused a moment; then he answered with sudden resolution: "It
 makes me understand what your aunt has been saying about you."
 
-"I knew she'd been talking about me.  Well?"
+"I knew she'd been talking about me. Well?"
 
 "She said you were used to all kinds of things--splendours and
 amusements and excitements--that we could never hope to give you here."
 
 Madame Olenska smiled faintly into the circle of smoke about her lips.
 
-"Medora is incorrigibly romantic.  It has made up to her for so many
+"Medora is incorrigibly romantic. It has made up to her for so many
 things!"
 
-Archer hesitated again, and again took his risk.  "Is your aunt's
+Archer hesitated again, and again took his risk. "Is your aunt's
 romanticism always consistent with accuracy?"
 
-"You mean: does she speak the truth?"  Her niece considered.  "Well,
-I'll tell you: in almost everything she says, there's something true
-and something untrue.  But why do you ask?  What has she been telling
-you?"
+"You mean: does she speak the truth?" Her niece considered. "Well, I'll
+tell you: in almost everything she says, there's something true and
+something untrue. But why do you ask? What has she been telling you?"
 
 He looked away into the fire, and then back at her shining presence.
 His heart tightened with the thought that this was their last evening
@@ -5214,73 +5198,72 @@ her away.
 "She says--she pretends that Count Olenski has asked her to persuade
 you to go back to him."
 
-Madame Olenska made no answer.  She sat motionless, holding her
-cigarette in her half-lifted hand.  The expression of her face had not
+Madame Olenska made no answer. She sat motionless, holding her
+cigarette in her half-lifted hand. The expression of her face had not
 changed; and Archer remembered that he had before noticed her apparent
 incapacity for surprise.
 
 "You knew, then?" he broke out.
 
-She was silent for so long that the ash dropped from her cigarette.
-She brushed it to the floor.  "She has hinted about a letter: poor
-darling!  Medora's hints--"
+She was silent for so long that the ash dropped from her cigarette. She
+brushed it to the floor. "She has hinted about a letter: poor darling!
+Medora's hints--"
 
 "Is it at your husband's request that she has arrived here suddenly?"
 
-Madame Olenska seemed to consider this question also.  "There again:
-one can't tell.  She told me she had had a 'spiritual summons,'
-whatever that is, from Dr. Carver.  I'm afraid she's going to marry Dr.
-Carver ...  poor Medora, there's always some one she wants to marry.
-But perhaps the people in Cuba just got tired of her!  I think she was
-with them as a sort of paid companion.  Really, I don't know why she
-came."
+Madame Olenska seemed to consider this question also. "There again: one
+can't tell. She told me she had had a 'spiritual summons,' whatever
+that is, from Dr. Carver. I'm afraid she's going to marry Dr. Carver
+... poor Medora, there's always some one she wants to marry. But
+perhaps the people in Cuba just got tired of her! I think she was with
+them as a sort of paid companion. Really, I don't know why she came."
 
 "But you do believe she has a letter from your husband?"
 
-Again Madame Olenska brooded silently; then she said:  "After all, it
+Again Madame Olenska brooded silently; then she said: "After all, it
 was to be expected."
 
-The young man rose and went to lean against the fireplace.  A sudden
+The young man rose and went to lean against the fireplace. A sudden
 restlessness possessed him, and he was tongue-tied by the sense that
 their minutes were numbered, and that at any moment he might hear the
 wheels of the returning carriage.
 
 "You know that your aunt believes you will go back?"
 
-Madame Olenska raised her head quickly.  A deep blush rose to her face
-and spread over her neck and shoulders.  She blushed seldom and
+Madame Olenska raised her head quickly. A deep blush rose to her
+face and spread over her neck and shoulders. She blushed seldom and
 painfully, as if it hurt her like a burn.
 
 "Many cruel things have been believed of me," she said.
 
 "Oh, Ellen--forgive me; I'm a fool and a brute!"
 
-She smiled a little.  "You are horribly nervous; you have your own
-troubles.  I know you think the Wellands are unreasonable about your
-marriage, and of course I agree with you.  In Europe people don't
+She smiled a little. "You are horribly nervous; you have your own
+troubles. I know you think the Wellands are unreasonable about your
+marriage, and of course I agree with you. In Europe people don't
 understand our long American engagements; I suppose they are not as
-calm as we are."  She pronounced the "we" with a faint emphasis that
+calm as we are." She pronounced the "we" with a faint emphasis that
 gave it an ironic sound.
 
-Archer felt the irony but did not dare to take it up.  After all, she
+Archer felt the irony but did not dare to take it up. After all, she
 had perhaps purposely deflected the conversation from her own affairs,
 and after the pain his last words had evidently caused her he felt that
-all he could do was to follow her lead.  But the sense of the waning
+all he could do was to follow her lead. But the sense of the waning
 hour made him desperate: he could not bear the thought that a barrier
 of words should drop between them again.
 
 "Yes," he said abruptly; "I went south to ask May to marry me after
-Easter.  There's no reason why we shouldn't be married then."
+Easter. There's no reason why we shouldn't be married then."
 
-"And May adores you--and yet you couldn't convince her?  I thought her
+"And May adores you--and yet you couldn't convince her? I thought her
 too intelligent to be the slave of such absurd superstitions."
 
-"She IS too intelligent--she's not their slave."
+"She _is_ too intelligent--she's not their slave."
 
-Madame Olenska looked at him.  "Well, then--I don't understand."
+Madame Olenska looked at him. "Well, then--I don't understand."
 
-Archer reddened, and hurried on with a rush.  "We had a frank
-talk--almost the first.  She thinks my impatience a bad sign."
+Archer reddened, and hurried on with a rush. "We had a frank
+talk--almost the first. She thinks my impatience a bad sign."
 
 "Merciful heavens--a bad sign?"
 
@@ -5288,30 +5271,30 @@ talk--almost the first.  She thinks my impatience a bad sign."
 She thinks, in short, I want to marry her at once to get away from some
 one that I--care for more."
 
-Madame Olenska examined this curiously.  "But if she thinks that--why
+Madame Olenska examined this curiously. "But if she thinks that--why
 isn't she in a hurry too?"
 
-"Because she's not like that: she's so much nobler.  She insists all
-the more on the long engagement, to give me time--"
+"Because she's not like that: she's so much nobler. She insists all the
+more on the long engagement, to give me time--"
 
 "Time to give her up for the other woman?"
 
 "If I want to."
 
 Madame Olenska leaned toward the fire and gazed into it with fixed
-eyes.  Down the quiet street Archer heard the approaching trot of her
+eyes. Down the quiet street Archer heard the approaching trot of her
 horses.
 
-"That IS noble," she said, with a slight break in her voice.
+"That _is_ noble," she said, with a slight break in her voice.
 
-"Yes.  But it's ridiculous."
+"Yes. But it's ridiculous."
 
-"Ridiculous?  Because you don't care for any one else?"
+"Ridiculous? Because you don't care for any one else?"
 
 "Because I don't mean to marry any one else."
 
-"Ah."  There was another long interval.  At length she looked up at him
-and asked:  "This other woman--does she love you?"
+"Ah." There was another long interval. At length she looked up at him
+and asked: "This other woman--does she love you?"
 
 "Oh, there's no other woman; I mean, the person that May was thinking
 of is--was never--"
@@ -5320,54 +5303,54 @@ of is--was never--"
 
 "There's your carriage," said Archer.
 
-She half-rose and looked about her with absent eyes.  Her fan and
-gloves lay on the sofa beside her and she picked them up mechanically.
+She half-rose and looked about her with absent eyes. Her fan and gloves
+lay on the sofa beside her and she picked them up mechanically.
 
 "Yes; I suppose I must be going."
 
 "You're going to Mrs. Struthers's?"
 
-"Yes."  She smiled and added:  "I must go where I am invited, or I
-should be too lonely.  Why not come with me?"
+"Yes." She smiled and added: "I must go where I am invited, or I should
+be too lonely. Why not come with me?"
 
 Archer felt that at any cost he must keep her beside him, must make her
-give him the rest of her evening.  Ignoring her question, he continued
+give him the rest of her evening. Ignoring her question, he continued
 to lean against the chimney-piece, his eyes fixed on the hand in which
 she held her gloves and fan, as if watching to see if he had the power
 to make her drop them.
 
-"May guessed the truth," he said.  "There is another woman--but not the
+"May guessed the truth," he said. "There is another woman--but not the
 one she thinks."
 
-Ellen Olenska made no answer, and did not move.  After a moment he sat
+Ellen Olenska made no answer, and did not move. After a moment he sat
 down beside her, and, taking her hand, softly unclasped it, so that the
 gloves and fan fell on the sofa between them.
 
 She started up, and freeing herself from him moved away to the other
-side of the hearth.  "Ah, don't make love to me!  Too many people have
+side of the hearth. "Ah, don't make love to me! Too many people have
 done that," she said, frowning.
 
 Archer, changing colour, stood up also: it was the bitterest rebuke she
-could have given him.  "I have never made love to you," he said, "and I
-never shall.  But you are the woman I would have married if it had been
+could have given him. "I have never made love to you," he said, "and I
+never shall. But you are the woman I would have married if it had been
 possible for either of us."
 
-"Possible for either of us?"  She looked at him with unfeigned
-astonishment.  "And you say that--when it's you who've made it
+"Possible for either of us?" She looked at him with unfeigned
+astonishment. "And you say that--when it's you who've made it
 impossible?"
 
 He stared at her, groping in a blackness through which a single arrow
 of light tore its blinding way.
 
-"I'VE made it impossible--?"
+"_I've_ made it impossible--?"
 
-"You, you, YOU!" she cried, her lip trembling like a child's on the
-verge of tears.  "Isn't it you who made me give up divorcing--give it
+"You, you, _you_!" she cried, her lip trembling like a child's on the
+verge of tears. "Isn't it you who made me give up divorcing--give it
 up because you showed me how selfish and wicked it was, how one must
 sacrifice one's self to preserve the dignity of marriage ... and to
-spare one's family the publicity, the scandal?  And because my family
+spare one's family the publicity, the scandal? And because my family
 was going to be your family--for May's sake and for yours--I did what
-you told me, what you proved to me that I ought to do.  Ah," she broke
+you told me, what you proved to me that I ought to do. Ah," she broke
 out with a sudden laugh, "I've made no secret of having done it for
 you!"
 
@@ -5375,14 +5358,14 @@ She sank down on the sofa again, crouching among the festive ripples of
 her dress like a stricken masquerader; and the young man stood by the
 fireplace and continued to gaze at her without moving.
 
-"Good God," he groaned.  "When I thought--"
+"Good God," he groaned. "When I thought--"
 
 "You thought?"
 
 "Ah, don't ask me what I thought!"
 
 Still looking at her, he saw the same burning flush creep up her neck
-to her face.  She sat upright, facing him with a rigid dignity.
+to her face. She sat upright, facing him with a rigid dignity.
 
 "I do ask you."
 
@@ -5392,28 +5375,28 @@ to her face.  She sat upright, facing him with a rigid dignity.
 
 "Yes."
 
-"I had nothing to fear from that letter: absolutely nothing!  All I
+"I had nothing to fear from that letter: absolutely nothing! All I
 feared was to bring notoriety, scandal, on the family--on you and May."
 
 "Good God," he groaned again, bowing his face in his hands.
 
 The silence that followed lay on them with the weight of things final
-and irrevocable.  It seemed to Archer to be crushing him down like his
+and irrevocable. It seemed to Archer to be crushing him down like his
 own grave-stone; in all the wide future he saw nothing that would ever
-lift that load from his heart.  He did not move from his place, or
-raise his head from his hands; his hidden eyeballs went on staring into
-utter darkness.
+lift that load from his heart. He did not move from his place, or raise
+his head from his hands; his hidden eyeballs went on staring into utter
+darkness.
 
 "At least I loved you--" he brought out.
 
 On the other side of the hearth, from the sofa-corner where he supposed
 that she still crouched, he heard a faint stifled crying like a
-child's.  He started up and came to her side.
+child's. He started up and came to her side.
 
-"Ellen!  What madness!  Why are you crying?  Nothing's done that can't
-be undone.  I'm still free, and you're going to be."  He had her in his
-arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain
-terrors shrivelling up like ghosts at sunrise.  The one thing that
+"Ellen! What madness! Why are you crying? Nothing's done that can't
+be undone. I'm still free, and you're going to be." He had her in
+his arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain
+terrors shrivelling up like ghosts at sunrise. The one thing that
 astonished him now was that he should have stood for five minutes
 arguing with her across the width of the room, when just touching her
 made everything so simple.
@@ -5421,199 +5404,196 @@ made everything so simple.
 She gave him back all his kiss, but after a moment he felt her
 stiffening in his arms, and she put him aside and stood up.
 
-"Ah, my poor Newland--I suppose this had to be.  But it doesn't in the
+"Ah, my poor Newland--I suppose this had to be. But it doesn't in the
 least alter things," she said, looking down at him in her turn from the
 hearth.
 
 "It alters the whole of life for me."
 
-"No, no--it mustn't, it can't.  You're engaged to May Welland; and I'm
+"No, no--it mustn't, it can't. You're engaged to May Welland; and I'm
 married."
 
-He stood up too, flushed and resolute.  "Nonsense!  It's too late for
-that sort of thing.  We've no right to lie to other people or to
-ourselves.  We won't talk of your marriage; but do you see me marrying
+He stood up too, flushed and resolute. "Nonsense! It's too late for
+that sort of thing. We've no right to lie to other people or to
+ourselves. We won't talk of your marriage; but do you see me marrying
 May after this?"
 
 She stood silent, resting her thin elbows on the mantelpiece, her
-profile reflected in the glass behind her.  One of the locks of her
+profile reflected in the glass behind her. One of the locks of her
 chignon had become loosened and hung on her neck; she looked haggard
 and almost old.
 
 "I don't see you," she said at length, "putting that question to May.
 Do you?"
 
-He gave a reckless shrug.  "It's too late to do anything else."
+He gave a reckless shrug. "It's too late to do anything else."
 
 "You say that because it's the easiest thing to say at this moment--not
-because it's true.  In reality it's too late to do anything but what
+because it's true. In reality it's too late to do anything but what
 we'd both decided on."
 
 "Ah, I don't understand you!"
 
 She forced a pitiful smile that pinched her face instead of smoothing
-it.  "You don't understand because you haven't yet guessed how you've
+it. "You don't understand because you haven't yet guessed how you've
 changed things for me: oh, from the first--long before I knew all you'd
 done."
 
 "All I'd done?"
 
-"Yes.  I was perfectly unconscious at first that people here were shy
-of me--that they thought I was a dreadful sort of person.  It seems
-they had even refused to meet me at dinner.  I found that out
-afterward; and how you'd made your mother go with you to the van der
-Luydens'; and how you'd insisted on announcing your engagement at the
-Beaufort ball, so that I might have two families to stand by me instead
-of one--"
+"Yes. I was perfectly unconscious at first that people here were shy of
+me--that they thought I was a dreadful sort of person. It seems they
+had even refused to meet me at dinner. I found that out afterward; and
+how you'd made your mother go with you to the van der Luydens'; and how
+you'd insisted on announcing your engagement at the Beaufort ball, so
+that I might have two families to stand by me instead of one--"
 
 At that he broke into a laugh.
 
-"Just imagine," she said, "how stupid and unobservant I was!  I knew
-nothing of all this till Granny blurted it out one day.  New York
-simply meant peace and freedom to me: it was coming home.  And I was so
-happy at being among my own people that every one I met seemed kind and
-good, and glad to see me.  But from the very beginning," she continued,
-"I felt there was no one as kind as you; no one who gave me reasons
-that I understood for doing what at first seemed so hard
-and--unnecessary.  The very good people didn't convince me; I felt
-they'd never been tempted.  But you knew; you understood; you had felt
-the world outside tugging at one with all its golden hands--and yet you
-hated the things it asks of one; you hated happiness bought by
-disloyalty and cruelty and indifference.  That was what I'd never known
-before--and it's better than anything I've known."
+"Just imagine," she said, "how stupid and unobservant I was! I knew
+nothing of all this till Granny blurted it out one day. New York simply
+meant peace and freedom to me: it was coming home. And I was so happy
+at being among my own people that every one I met seemed kind and good,
+and glad to see me. But from the very beginning," she continued, "I
+felt there was no one as kind as you; no one who gave me reasons that
+I understood for doing what at first seemed so hard and--unnecessary.
+The very good people didn't convince me; I felt they'd never been
+tempted. But you knew; you understood; you had felt the world outside
+tugging at one with all its golden hands--and yet you hated the things
+it asks of one; you hated happiness bought by disloyalty and cruelty
+and indifference. That was what I'd never known before--and it's better
+than anything I've known."
 
 She spoke in a low even voice, without tears or visible agitation; and
 each word, as it dropped from her, fell into his breast like burning
-lead.  He sat bowed over, his head between his hands, staring at the
-hearthrug, and at the tip of the satin shoe that showed under her
-dress.  Suddenly he knelt down and kissed the shoe.
+lead. He sat bowed over, his head between his hands, staring at the
+hearth rug, and at the tip of the satin shoe that showed under her
+dress. Suddenly he knelt down and kissed the shoe.
 
 She bent over him, laying her hands on his shoulders, and looking at
 him with eyes so deep that he remained motionless under her gaze.
 
-"Ah, don't let us undo what you've done!" she cried.  "I can't go back
-now to that other way of thinking.  I can't love you unless I give you
+"Ah, don't let us undo what you've done!" she cried. "I can't go back
+now to that other way of thinking. I can't love you unless I give you
 up."
 
 His arms were yearning up to her; but she drew away, and they remained
 facing each other, divided by the distance that her words had created.
 Then, abruptly, his anger overflowed.
 
-"And Beaufort?  Is he to replace me?"
+"And Beaufort? Is he to replace me?"
 
 As the words sprang out he was prepared for an answering flare of
-anger; and he would have welcomed it as fuel for his own.  But Madame
-Olenska only grew a shade paler, and stood with her arms hanging down
-before her, and her head slightly bent, as her way was when she
+anger; and he would have welcomed it as fuel for his own. But Madame
+Olenska only grew a shade paler, and stood with her arms hanging
+down before her, and her head slightly bent, as her way was when she
 pondered a question.
 
 "He's waiting for you now at Mrs. Struthers's; why don't you go to
 him?" Archer sneered.
 
-She turned to ring the bell.  "I shall not go out this evening; tell
-the carriage to go and fetch the Signora Marchesa," she said when the
-maid came.
+She turned to ring the bell. "I shall not go out this evening; tell the
+carriage to go and fetch the Signora Marchesa," she said when the maid
+came.
 
 After the door had closed again Archer continued to look at her with
-bitter eyes.  "Why this sacrifice?  Since you tell me that you're
-lonely I've no right to keep you from your friends."
+bitter eyes. "Why this sacrifice? Since you tell me that you're lonely
+I've no right to keep you from your friends."
 
-She smiled a little under her wet lashes.  "I shan't be lonely now.  I
-WAS lonely; I WAS afraid.  But the emptiness and the darkness are gone;
+She smiled a little under her wet lashes. "I shan't be lonely now. I
+_was_ lonely; I _was_ afraid. But the emptiness and the darkness are gone;
 when I turn back into myself now I'm like a child going at night into a
 room where there's always a light."
 
 Her tone and her look still enveloped her in a soft inaccessibility,
-and Archer groaned out again:  "I don't understand you!"
+and Archer groaned out again: "I don't understand you!"
 
 "Yet you understand May!"
 
-He reddened under the retort, but kept his eyes on her.  "May is ready
+He reddened under the retort, but kept his eyes on her. "May is ready
 to give me up."
 
-"What!  Three days after you've entreated her on your knees to hasten
+"What! Three days after you've entreated her on your knees to hasten
 your marriage?"
 
 "She's refused; that gives me the right--"
 
 "Ah, you've taught me what an ugly word that is," she said.
 
-He turned away with a sense of utter weariness.  He felt as though he
+He turned away with a sense of utter weariness. He felt as though he
 had been struggling for hours up the face of a steep precipice, and
 now, just as he had fought his way to the top, his hold had given way
 and he was pitching down headlong into darkness.
 
-If he could have got her in his arms again he might have swept away her
-arguments; but she still held him at a distance by something
+If he could have got her in his arms again he might have swept away
+her arguments; but she still held him at a distance by something
 inscrutably aloof in her look and attitude, and by his own awed sense
-of her sincerity.  At length he began to plead again.
+of her sincerity. At length he began to plead again.
 
 "If we do this now it will be worse afterward--worse for every one--"
 
 "No--no--no!" she almost screamed, as if he frightened her.
 
-At that moment the bell sent a long tinkle through the house.  They had
+At that moment the bell sent a long tinkle through the house. They had
 heard no carriage stopping at the door, and they stood motionless,
 looking at each other with startled eyes.
 
-Outside, Nastasia's step crossed the hall, the outer door opened, and a
-moment later she came in carrying a telegram which she handed to the
+Outside, Nastasia's step crossed the hall, the outer door opened, and
+a moment later she came in carrying a telegram which she handed to the
 Countess Olenska.
 
 "The lady was very happy at the flowers," Nastasia said, smoothing her
-apron.  "She thought it was her signor marito who had sent them, and
-she cried a little and said it was a folly."
+apron. "She thought it was her signor marito who had sent them, and she
+cried a little and said it was a folly."
 
-Her mistress smiled and took the yellow envelope.  She tore it open and
-carried it to the lamp; then, when the door had closed again, she
+Her mistress smiled and took the yellow envelope. She tore it open
+and carried it to the lamp; then, when the door had closed again, she
 handed the telegram to Archer.
 
 It was dated from St. Augustine, and addressed to the Countess Olenska.
-In it he read:  "Granny's telegram successful.  Papa and Mamma agree
-marriage after Easter.  Am telegraphing Newland.  Am too happy for
-words and love you dearly.  Your grateful May."
+In it he read: "Granny's telegram successful. Papa and Mamma agree
+marriage after Easter. Am telegraphing Newland. Am too happy for words
+and love you dearly. Your grateful May."
 
 
-Half an hour later, when Archer unlocked his own front-door, he found a
-similar envelope on the hall-table on top of his pile of notes and
-letters.  The message inside the envelope was also from May Welland,
-and ran as follows:  "Parents consent wedding Tuesday after Easter at
-twelve Grace Church eight bridesmaids please see Rector so happy love
-May."
+Half an hour later, when Archer unlocked his own front-door, he found
+a similar envelope on the hall-table on top of his pile of notes and
+letters. The message inside the envelope was also from May Welland, and
+ran as follows: "Parents consent wedding Tuesday after Easter at twelve
+Grace Church eight bridesmaids please see Rector so happy love May."
 
 Archer crumpled up the yellow sheet as if the gesture could annihilate
-the news it contained.  Then he pulled out a small pocket-diary and
+the news it contained. Then he pulled out a small pocket-diary and
 turned over the pages with trembling fingers; but he did not find what
 he wanted, and cramming the telegram into his pocket he mounted the
 stairs.
 
 A light was shining through the door of the little hall-room which
 served Janey as a dressing-room and boudoir, and her brother rapped
-impatiently on the panel.  The door opened, and his sister stood before
+impatiently on the panel. The door opened, and his sister stood before
 him in her immemorial purple flannel dressing-gown, with her hair "on
-pins."  Her face looked pale and apprehensive.
+pins." Her face looked pale and apprehensive.
 
-"Newland!  I hope there's no bad news in that telegram?  I waited on
-purpose, in case--"  (No item of his correspondence was safe from
-Janey.)
+"Newland! I hope there's no bad news in that telegram? I waited on
+purpose, in case--" (No item of his correspondence was safe from Janey.)
 
-He took no notice of her question.  "Look here--what day is Easter this
+He took no notice of her question. "Look here--what day is Easter this
 year?"
 
-She looked shocked at such unchristian ignorance.  "Easter?  Newland!
-Why, of course, the first week in April.  Why?"
+She looked shocked at such unchristian ignorance. "Easter? Newland!
+Why, of course, the first week in April. Why?"
 
-"The first week?"  He turned again to the pages of his diary,
-calculating rapidly under his breath.  "The first week, did you say?"
-He threw back his head with a long laugh.
+"The first week?" He turned again to the pages of his diary,
+calculating rapidly under his breath. "The first week, did you say?" He
+threw back his head with a long laugh.
 
 "For mercy's sake what's the matter?"
 
 "Nothing's the matter, except that I'm going to be married in a month."
 
 Janey fell upon his neck and pressed him to her purple flannel breast.
-"Oh Newland, how wonderful!  I'm so glad!  But, dearest, why do you
-keep on laughing?  Do hush, or you'll wake Mamma."
+"Oh Newland, how wonderful! I'm so glad! But, dearest, why do you keep
+on laughing? Do hush, or you'll wake Mamma."
 
 
 
@@ -5622,9 +5602,11 @@ Book II
 
 
 
+
 XIX.
 
-The day was fresh, with a lively spring wind full of dust.  All the old
+
+The day was fresh, with a lively spring wind full of dust. All the old
 ladies in both families had got out their faded sables and yellowing
 ermines, and the smell of camphor from the front pews almost smothered
 the faint spring scent of the lilies banking the altar.
@@ -5633,20 +5615,19 @@ Newland Archer, at a signal from the sexton, had come out of the vestry
 and placed himself with his best man on the chancel step of Grace
 Church.
 
-The signal meant that the brougham bearing the bride and her father was
-in sight; but there was sure to be a considerable interval of
+The signal meant that the brougham bearing the bride and her father
+was in sight; but there was sure to be a considerable interval of
 adjustment and consultation in the lobby, where the bridesmaids were
-already hovering like a cluster of Easter blossoms.  During this
+already hovering like a cluster of Easter blossoms. During this
 unavoidable lapse of time the bridegroom, in proof of his eagerness,
 was expected to expose himself alone to the gaze of the assembled
 company; and Archer had gone through this formality as resignedly as
 through all the others which made of a nineteenth century New York
-wedding a rite that seemed to belong to the dawn of history.
-Everything was equally easy--or equally painful, as one chose to put
-it--in the path he was committed to tread, and he had obeyed the
-flurried injunctions of his best man as piously as other bridegrooms
-had obeyed his own, in the days when he had guided them through the
-same labyrinth.
+wedding a rite that seemed to belong to the dawn of history. Everything
+was equally easy--or equally painful, as one chose to put it--in
+the path he was committed to tread, and he had obeyed the flurried
+injunctions of his best man as piously as other bridegrooms had obeyed
+his own, in the days when he had guided them through the same labyrinth.
 
 So far he was reasonably sure of having fulfilled all his obligations.
 The bridesmaids' eight bouquets of white lilac and lilies-of-the-valley
@@ -5670,35 +5651,35 @@ of his responsibility.
 Archer made the gesture which he had seen so many bridegrooms make:
 with his ungloved right hand he felt in the pocket of his dark grey
 waistcoat, and assured himself that the little gold circlet (engraved
-inside: Newland to May, April ---, 187-) was in its place; then,
+inside: _Newland to May, April ——, 187—_) was in its place; then,
 resuming his former attitude, his tall hat and pearl-grey gloves with
 black stitchings grasped in his left hand, he stood looking at the door
 of the church.
 
 Overhead, Handel's March swelled pompously through the imitation stone
-vaulting, carrying on its waves the faded drift of the many weddings at
-which, with cheerful indifference, he had stood on the same chancel
+vaulting, carrying on its waves the faded drift of the many weddings
+at which, with cheerful indifference, he had stood on the same chancel
 step watching other brides float up the nave toward other bridegrooms.
 
-"How like a first night at the Opera!" he thought, recognising all the
-same faces in the same boxes (no, pews), and wondering if, when the
-Last Trump sounded, Mrs. Selfridge Merry would be there with the same
-towering ostrich feathers in her bonnet, and Mrs. Beaufort with the
-same diamond earrings and the same smile--and whether suitable
+"How like a first night at the Opera!" he thought, recognising all
+the same faces in the same boxes (no, pews), and wondering if, when
+the Last Trump sounded, Mrs. Selfridge Merry would be there with the
+same towering ostrich feathers in her bonnet, and Mrs. Beaufort with
+the same diamond earrings and the same smile--and whether suitable
 proscenium seats were already prepared for them in another world.
 
 After that there was still time to review, one by one, the familiar
-countenances in the first rows; the women's sharp with curiosity and
-excitement, the men's sulky with the obligation of having to put on
-their frock-coats before luncheon, and fight for food at the
+countenances in the first rows; the women's sharp with curiosity
+and excitement, the men's sulky with the obligation of having to
+put on their frock-coats before luncheon, and fight for food at the
 wedding-breakfast.
 
 "Too bad the breakfast is at old Catherine's," the bridegroom could
-fancy Reggie Chivers saying.  "But I'm told that Lovell Mingott
-insisted on its being cooked by his own chef, so it ought to be good if
-one can only get at it."  And he could imagine Sillerton Jackson adding
-with authority:  "My dear fellow, haven't you heard?  It's to be served
-at small tables, in the new English fashion."
+fancy Reggie Chivers saying. "But I'm told that Lovell Mingott insisted
+on its being cooked by his own chef, so it ought to be good if one can
+only get at it." And he could imagine Sillerton Jackson adding with
+authority: "My dear fellow, haven't you heard? It's to be served at
+small tables, in the new English fashion."
 
 Archer's eyes lingered a moment on the left-hand pew, where his mother,
 who had entered the church on Mr. Henry van der Luyden's arm, sat
@@ -5711,70 +5692,70 @@ they're mostly dowdy Newlands and Dagonets."
 
 On the hither side of the white ribbon dividing off the seats reserved
 for the families he saw Beaufort, tall and redfaced, scrutinising the
-women with his arrogant stare.  Beside him sat his wife, all silvery
+women with his arrogant stare. Beside him sat his wife, all silvery
 chinchilla and violets; and on the far side of the ribbon, Lawrence
 Lefferts's sleekly brushed head seemed to mount guard over the
 invisible deity of "Good Form" who presided at the ceremony.
 
-Archer wondered how many flaws Lefferts's keen eyes would discover in
-the ritual of his divinity; then he suddenly recalled that he too had
-once thought such questions important.  The things that had filled his
-days seemed now like a nursery parody of life, or like the wrangles of
-mediaeval schoolmen over metaphysical terms that nobody had ever
-understood.  A stormy discussion as to whether the wedding presents
-should be "shown" had darkened the last hours before the wedding; and
-it seemed inconceivable to Archer that grown-up people should work
-themselves into a state of agitation over such trifles, and that the
-matter should have been decided (in the negative) by Mrs. Welland's
-saying, with indignant tears:  "I should as soon turn the reporters
-loose in my house."  Yet there was a time when Archer had had definite
-and rather aggressive opinions on all such problems, and when
+Archer wondered how many flaws Lefferts's keen eyes would discover
+in the ritual of his divinity; then he suddenly recalled that he
+too had once thought such questions important. The things that had
+filled his days seemed now like a nursery parody of life, or like the
+wrangles of mediaeval schoolmen over metaphysical terms that nobody
+had ever understood. A stormy discussion as to whether the wedding
+presents should be "shown" had darkened the last hours before the
+wedding; and it seemed inconceivable to Archer that grown-up people
+should work themselves into a state of agitation over such trifles,
+and that the matter should have been decided (in the negative) by Mrs.
+Welland's saying, with indignant tears: "I should as soon turn the
+reporters loose in my house." Yet there was a time when Archer had had
+definite and rather aggressive opinions on all such problems, and when
 everything concerning the manners and customs of his little tribe had
 seemed to him fraught with world-wide significance.
 
 "And all the while, I suppose," he thought, "real people were living
 somewhere, and real things happening to them ..."
 
-"THERE THEY COME!" breathed the best man excitedly; but the bridegroom
+"_There they come!_" breathed the best man excitedly; but the bridegroom
 knew better.
 
 The cautious opening of the door of the church meant only that Mr.
 Brown the livery-stable keeper (gowned in black in his intermittent
 character of sexton) was taking a preliminary survey of the scene
-before marshalling his forces.  The door was softly shut again; then
+before marshalling his forces. The door was softly shut again; then
 after another interval it swung majestically open, and a murmur ran
-through the church:  "The family!"
+through the church: "The family!"
 
-Mrs. Welland came first, on the arm of her eldest son.  Her large pink
+Mrs. Welland came first, on the arm of her eldest son. Her large pink
 face was appropriately solemn, and her plum-coloured satin with pale
-blue side-panels, and blue ostrich plumes in a small satin bonnet, met
-with general approval; but before she had settled herself with a
+blue side-panels, and blue ostrich plumes in a small satin bonnet,
+met with general approval; but before she had settled herself with a
 stately rustle in the pew opposite Mrs. Archer's the spectators were
-craning their necks to see who was coming after her.  Wild rumours had
+craning their necks to see who was coming after her. Wild rumours had
 been abroad the day before to the effect that Mrs. Manson Mingott, in
 spite of her physical disabilities, had resolved on being present at
 the ceremony; and the idea was so much in keeping with her sporting
 character that bets ran high at the clubs as to her being able to walk
-up the nave and squeeze into a seat.  It was known that she had
-insisted on sending her own carpenter to look into the possibility of
-taking down the end panel of the front pew, and to measure the space
-between the seat and the front; but the result had been discouraging,
-and for one anxious day her family had watched her dallying with the
-plan of being wheeled up the nave in her enormous Bath chair and
-sitting enthroned in it at the foot of the chancel.
+up the nave and squeeze into a seat. It was known that she had insisted
+on sending her own carpenter to look into the possibility of taking
+down the end panel of the front pew, and to measure the space between
+the seat and the front; but the result had been discouraging, and for
+one anxious day her family had watched her dallying with the plan
+of being wheeled up the nave in her enormous Bath chair and sitting
+enthroned in it at the foot of the chancel.
 
 The idea of this monstrous exposure of her person was so painful to her
 relations that they could have covered with gold the ingenious person
-who suddenly discovered that the chair was too wide to pass between the
-iron uprights of the awning which extended from the church door to the
-curbstone.  The idea of doing away with this awning, and revealing the
-bride to the mob of dressmakers and newspaper reporters who stood
+who suddenly discovered that the chair was too wide to pass between
+the iron uprights of the awning which extended from the church door to
+the curbstone. The idea of doing away with this awning, and revealing
+the bride to the mob of dressmakers and newspaper reporters who stood
 outside fighting to get near the joints of the canvas, exceeded even
 old Catherine's courage, though for a moment she had weighed the
-possibility.  "Why, they might take a photograph of my child AND PUT IT
-IN THE PAPERS!" Mrs. Welland exclaimed when her mother's last plan was
+possibility. "Why, they might take a photograph of my child and _put it
+in the papers_!" Mrs. Welland exclaimed when her mother's last plan was
 hinted to her; and from this unthinkable indecency the clan recoiled
-with a collective shudder.  The ancestress had had to give in; but her
+with a collective shudder. The ancestress had had to give in; but her
 concession was bought only by the promise that the wedding-breakfast
 should take place under her roof, though (as the Washington Square
 connection said) with the Wellands' house in easy reach it was hard to
@@ -5784,33 +5765,33 @@ of nowhere.
 Though all these transactions had been widely reported by the Jacksons
 a sporting minority still clung to the belief that old Catherine would
 appear in church, and there was a distinct lowering of the temperature
-when she was found to have been replaced by her daughter-in-law.  Mrs.
-Lovell Mingott had the high colour and glassy stare induced in ladies
-of her age and habit by the effort of getting into a new dress; but
-once the disappointment occasioned by her mother-in-law's
+when she was found to have been replaced by her daughter-in-law.
+Mrs. Lovell Mingott had the high colour and glassy stare induced
+in ladies of her age and habit by the effort of getting into a new
+dress; but once the disappointment occasioned by her mother-in-law's
 non-appearance had subsided, it was agreed that her black Chantilly
 over lilac satin, with a bonnet of Parma violets, formed the happiest
-contrast to Mrs. Welland's blue and plum-colour.  Far different was the
-impression produced by the gaunt and mincing lady who followed on Mr.
-Mingott's arm, in a wild dishevelment of stripes and fringes and
+contrast to Mrs. Welland's blue and plum-colour. Far different was
+the impression produced by the gaunt and mincing lady who followed on
+Mr. Mingott's arm, in a wild dishevelment of stripes and fringes and
 floating scarves; and as this last apparition glided into view Archer's
 heart contracted and stopped beating.
 
 He had taken it for granted that the Marchioness Manson was still in
 Washington, where she had gone some four weeks previously with her
-niece, Madame Olenska.  It was generally understood that their abrupt
+niece, Madame Olenska. It was generally understood that their abrupt
 departure was due to Madame Olenska's desire to remove her aunt from
 the baleful eloquence of Dr. Agathon Carver, who had nearly succeeded
 in enlisting her as a recruit for the Valley of Love; and in the
 circumstances no one had expected either of the ladies to return for
-the wedding.  For a moment Archer stood with his eyes fixed on Medora's
+the wedding. For a moment Archer stood with his eyes fixed on Medora's
 fantastic figure, straining to see who came behind her; but the little
 procession was at an end, for all the lesser members of the family had
 taken their seats, and the eight tall ushers, gathering themselves
-together like birds or insects preparing for some migratory manoeuvre,
+together like birds or insects preparing for some migratory manœuvre,
 were already slipping through the side doors into the lobby.
 
-"Newland--I say: SHE'S HERE!" the best man whispered.
+"Newland--I say: _she's here!_" the best man whispered.
 
 Archer roused himself with a start.
 
@@ -5821,17 +5802,17 @@ the flower-banked altar, and the first chords of the Spohr symphony
 were strewing their flower-like notes before the bride.
 
 Archer opened his eyes (but could they really have been shut, as he
-imagined?), and felt his heart beginning to resume its usual task.  The
+imagined?), and felt his heart beginning to resume its usual task. The
 music, the scent of the lilies on the altar, the vision of the cloud of
 tulle and orange-blossoms floating nearer and nearer, the sight of Mrs.
 Archer's face suddenly convulsed with happy sobs, the low benedictory
-murmur of the Rector's voice, the ordered evolutions of the eight pink
-bridesmaids and the eight black ushers: all these sights, sounds and
-sensations, so familiar in themselves, so unutterably strange and
+murmur of the Rector's voice, the ordered evolutions of the eight
+pink bridesmaids and the eight black ushers: all these sights, sounds
+and sensations, so familiar in themselves, so unutterably strange and
 meaningless in his new relation to them, were confusedly mingled in his
 brain.
 
-"My God," he thought, "HAVE I got the ring?"--and once more he went
+"My God," he thought, "_have_ I got the ring?"--and once more he went
 through the bridegroom's convulsive gesture.
 
 Then, in a moment, May was beside him, such radiance streaming from her
@@ -5840,20 +5821,20 @@ himself and smiled into her eyes.
 
 "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here," the Rector began ...
 
-The ring was on her hand, the Bishop's benediction had been given, the
-bridesmaids were a-poise to resume their place in the procession, and
-the organ was showing preliminary symptoms of breaking out into the
-Mendelssohn March, without which no newly-wedded couple had ever
+The ring was on her hand, the Bishop's benediction had been given,
+the bridesmaids were a-poise to resume their place in the procession,
+and the organ was showing preliminary symptoms of breaking out into
+the Mendelssohn March, without which no newly-wedded couple had ever
 emerged upon New York.
 
-"Your arm--I SAY, GIVE HER YOUR ARM!" young Newland nervously hissed;
+"Your arm--_I say, give her your arm!_" young Newland nervously hissed;
 and once more Archer became aware of having been adrift far off in the
-unknown.  What was it that had sent him there, he wondered?  Perhaps
-the glimpse, among the anonymous spectators in the transept, of a dark
-coil of hair under a hat which, a moment later, revealed itself as
-belonging to an unknown lady with a long nose, so laughably unlike the
-person whose image she had evoked that he asked himself if he were
-becoming subject to hallucinations.
+unknown. What was it that had sent him there, he wondered? Perhaps the
+glimpse, among the anonymous spectators in the transept, of a dark coil
+of hair under a hat which, a moment later, revealed itself as belonging
+to an unknown lady with a long nose, so laughably unlike the person
+whose image she had evoked that he asked himself if he were becoming
+subject to hallucinations.
 
 And now he and his wife were pacing slowly down the nave, carried
 forward on the light Mendelssohn ripples, the spring day beckoning to
@@ -5863,19 +5844,19 @@ far end of the canvas tunnel.
 
 The footman, who had a still bigger white favour on his lapel, wrapped
 May's white cloak about her, and Archer jumped into the brougham at her
-side.  She turned to him with a triumphant smile and their hands
-clasped under her veil.
+side. She turned to him with a triumphant smile and their hands clasped
+under her veil.
 
 "Darling!" Archer said--and suddenly the same black abyss yawned before
 him and he felt himself sinking into it, deeper and deeper, while his
-voice rambled on smoothly and cheerfully:  "Yes, of course I thought
-I'd lost the ring; no wedding would be complete if the poor devil of a
-bridegroom didn't go through that.  But you DID keep me waiting, you
-know!  I had time to think of every horror that might possibly happen."
+voice rambled on smoothly and cheerfully: "Yes, of course I thought
+I'd lost the ring; no wedding would be complete if the poor devil of
+a bridegroom didn't go through that. But you _did_ keep me waiting, you
+know! I had time to think of every horror that might possibly happen."
 
 She surprised him by turning, in full Fifth Avenue, and flinging her
-arms about his neck.  "But none ever CAN happen now, can it, Newland,
-as long as we two are together?"
+arms about his neck. "But none ever can__ happen now, can it, Newland, as
+long as we two are together?"
 
 
 Every detail of the day had been so carefully thought out that the
@@ -5897,53 +5878,53 @@ had accepted with an equal alacrity.
 
 May was enchanted at the idea of going to the country, and childishly
 amused at the vain efforts of the eight bridesmaids to discover where
-their mysterious retreat was situated.  It was thought "very English"
+their mysterious retreat was situated. It was thought "very English"
 to have a country-house lent to one, and the fact gave a last touch of
 distinction to what was generally conceded to be the most brilliant
 wedding of the year; but where the house was no one was permitted to
 know, except the parents of bride and groom, who, when taxed with the
-knowledge, pursed their lips and said mysteriously:  "Ah, they didn't
+knowledge, pursed their lips and said mysteriously: "Ah, they didn't
 tell us--" which was manifestly true, since there was no need to.
 
-Once they were settled in their compartment, and the train, shaking off
-the endless wooden suburbs, had pushed out into the pale landscape of
-spring, talk became easier than Archer had expected.  May was still, in
-look and tone, the simple girl of yesterday, eager to compare notes
+Once they were settled in their compartment, and the train, shaking
+off the endless wooden suburbs, had pushed out into the pale landscape
+of spring, talk became easier than Archer had expected. May was still,
+in look and tone, the simple girl of yesterday, eager to compare notes
 with him as to the incidents of the wedding, and discussing them as
-impartially as a bridesmaid talking it all over with an usher.  At
-first Archer had fancied that this detachment was the disguise of an
-inward tremor; but her clear eyes revealed only the most tranquil
-unawareness.  She was alone for the first time with her husband; but
-her husband was only the charming comrade of yesterday.  There was no
-one whom she liked as much, no one whom she trusted as completely, and
-the culminating "lark" of the whole delightful adventure of engagement
-and marriage was to be off with him alone on a journey, like a grownup
-person, like a "married woman," in fact.
+impartially as a bridesmaid talking it all over with an usher. At first
+Archer had fancied that this detachment was the disguise of an inward
+tremor; but her clear eyes revealed only the most tranquil unawareness.
+She was alone for the first time with her husband; but her husband was
+only the charming comrade of yesterday. There was no one whom she liked
+as much, no one whom she trusted as completely, and the culminating
+"lark" of the whole delightful adventure of engagement and marriage was
+to be off with him alone on a journey, like a grownup person, like a
+"married woman," in fact.
 
 It was wonderful that--as he had learned in the Mission garden at St.
 Augustine--such depths of feeling could coexist with such absence of
-imagination.  But he remembered how, even then, she had surprised him
-by dropping back to inexpressive girlishness as soon as her conscience
-had been eased of its burden; and he saw that she would probably go
-through life dealing to the best of her ability with each experience as
-it came, but never anticipating any by so much as a stolen glance.
+imagination. But he remembered how, even then, she had surprised him by
+dropping back to inexpressive girlishness as soon as her conscience had
+been eased of its burden; and he saw that she would probably go through
+life dealing to the best of her ability with each experience as it
+came, but never anticipating any by so much as a stolen glance.
 
 Perhaps that faculty of unawareness was what gave her eyes their
 transparency, and her face the look of representing a type rather than
 a person; as if she might have been chosen to pose for a Civic Virtue
-or a Greek goddess.  The blood that ran so close to her fair skin might
+or a Greek goddess. The blood that ran so close to her fair skin might
 have been a preserving fluid rather than a ravaging element; yet her
 look of indestructible youthfulness made her seem neither hard nor
-dull, but only primitive and pure.  In the thick of this meditation
+dull, but only primitive and pure. In the thick of this meditation
 Archer suddenly felt himself looking at her with the startled gaze of a
 stranger, and plunged into a reminiscence of the wedding-breakfast and
 of Granny Mingott's immense and triumphant pervasion of it.
 
-May settled down to frank enjoyment of the subject.  "I was surprised,
-though--weren't you?--that aunt Medora came after all.  Ellen wrote
-that they were neither of them well enough to take the journey; I do
-wish it had been she who had recovered!  Did you see the exquisite old
-lace she sent me?"
+May settled down to frank enjoyment of the subject. "I was surprised,
+though--weren't you?--that aunt Medora came after all. Ellen wrote that
+they were neither of them well enough to take the journey; I do wish it
+had been she who had recovered! Did you see the exquisite old lace she
+sent me?"
 
 He had known that the moment must come sooner or later, but he had
 somewhat imagined that by force of willing he might hold it at bay.
@@ -5952,10 +5933,10 @@ somewhat imagined that by force of willing he might hold it at bay.
 and wondering if, whenever he heard those two syllables, all his
 carefully built-up world would tumble about him like a house of cards.
 
-"Aren't you tired?  It will be good to have some tea when we
-arrive--I'm sure the aunts have got everything beautifully ready," he
-rattled on, taking her hand in his; and her mind rushed away instantly
-to the magnificent tea and coffee service of Baltimore silver which the
+"Aren't you tired? It will be good to have some tea when we arrive--I'm
+sure the aunts have got everything beautifully ready," he rattled
+on, taking her hand in his; and her mind rushed away instantly to
+the magnificent tea and coffee service of Baltimore silver which the
 Beauforts had sent, and which "went" so perfectly with uncle Lovell
 Mingott's trays and side-dishes.
 
@@ -5966,37 +5947,39 @@ they walked along the platform to the waiting carriage.
 over from Skuytercliff to meet us," Archer exclaimed, as a sedate
 person out of livery approached them and relieved the maid of her bags.
 
-"I'm extremely sorry, sir," said this emissary, "that a little accident
-has occurred at the Miss du Lacs': a leak in the water-tank.  It
-happened yesterday, and Mr. van der Luyden, who heard of it this
+"I'm extremely sorry, sir," said this emissary, "that a little
+accident has occurred at the Miss du Lacs': a leak in the water-tank.
+It happened yesterday, and Mr. van der Luyden, who heard of it this
 morning, sent a housemaid up by the early train to get the Patroon's
-house ready.  It will be quite comfortable, I think you'll find, sir;
+house ready. It will be quite comfortable, I think you'll find, sir;
 and the Miss du Lacs have sent their cook over, so that it will be
 exactly the same as if you'd been at Rhinebeck."
 
 Archer stared at the speaker so blankly that he repeated in still more
-apologetic accents:  "It'll be exactly the same, sir, I do assure
-you--" and May's eager voice broke out, covering the embarrassed
-silence:  "The same as Rhinebeck?  The Patroon's house?  But it will be
-a hundred thousand times better--won't it, Newland?  It's too dear and
-kind of Mr. van der Luyden to have thought of it."
+apologetic accents: "It'll be exactly the same, sir, I do assure you--"
+and May's eager voice broke out, covering the embarrassed silence:
+"The same as Rhinebeck? The Patroon's house? But it will be a hundred
+thousand times better--won't it, Newland? It's too dear and kind of Mr.
+van der Luyden to have thought of it."
 
 And as they drove off, with the maid beside the coachman, and their
 shining bridal bags on the seat before them, she went on excitedly:
-"Only fancy, I've never been inside it--have you?  The van der Luydens
-show it to so few people.  But they opened it for Ellen, it seems, and
+"Only fancy, I've never been inside it--have you? The van der Luydens
+show it to so few people. But they opened it for Ellen, it seems, and
 she told me what a darling little place it was: she says it's the only
 house she's seen in America that she could imagine being perfectly
 happy in."
 
 "Well--that's what we're going to be, isn't it?" cried her husband
-gaily; and she answered with her boyish smile:  "Ah, it's just our luck
+gaily; and she answered with her boyish smile: "Ah, it's just our luck
 beginning--the wonderful luck we're always going to have together!"
 
 
 
+
 XX.
 
+
 "Of course we must dine with Mrs. Carfry, dearest," Archer said; and
 his wife looked at him with an anxious frown across the monumental
 Britannia ware of their lodging house breakfast-table.
@@ -6010,20 +5993,20 @@ foreign countries.
 Mrs. Archer and Janey, in the course of their visits to Europe, had so
 unflinchingly lived up to this principle, and met the friendly advances
 of their fellow-travellers with an air of such impenetrable reserve,
-that they had almost achieved the record of never having exchanged a
-word with a "foreigner" other than those employed in hotels and
-railway-stations.  Their own compatriots--save those previously known
-or properly accredited--they treated with an even more pronounced
-disdain; so that, unless they ran across a Chivers, a Dagonet or a
-Mingott, their months abroad were spent in an unbroken tete-a-tete.
-But the utmost precautions are sometimes unavailing; and one night at
-Botzen one of the two English ladies in the room across the passage
-(whose names, dress and social situation were already intimately known
-to Janey) had knocked on the door and asked if Mrs. Archer had a bottle
-of liniment.  The other lady--the intruder's sister, Mrs. Carfry--had
-been seized with a sudden attack of bronchitis; and Mrs. Archer, who
-never travelled without a complete family pharmacy, was fortunately
-able to produce the required remedy.
+that they had almost achieved the record of never having exchanged
+a word with a "foreigner" other than those employed in hotels and
+railway-stations. Their own compatriots--save those previously known or
+properly accredited--they treated with an even more pronounced disdain;
+so that, unless they ran across a Chivers, a Dagonet or a Mingott,
+their months abroad were spent in an unbroken _tête-à-tête_. But the
+utmost precautions are sometimes unavailing; and one night at Botzen
+one of the two English ladies in the room across the passage (whose
+names, dress and social situation were already intimately known to
+Janey) had knocked on the door and asked if Mrs. Archer had a bottle of
+liniment. The other lady--the intruder's sister, Mrs. Carfry--had been
+seized with a sudden attack of bronchitis; and Mrs. Archer, who never
+travelled without a complete family pharmacy, was fortunately able to
+produce the required remedy.
 
 Mrs. Carfry was very ill, and as she and her sister Miss Harle were
 travelling alone they were profoundly grateful to the Archer ladies,
@@ -6031,59 +6014,58 @@ who supplied them with ingenious comforts and whose efficient maid
 helped to nurse the invalid back to health.
 
 When the Archers left Botzen they had no idea of ever seeing Mrs.
-Carfry and Miss Harle again.  Nothing, to Mrs. Archer's mind, would
-have been more "undignified" than to force one's self on the notice of
-a "foreigner" to whom one had happened to render an accidental service.
+Carfry and Miss Harle again. Nothing, to Mrs. Archer's mind, would have
+been more "undignified" than to force one's self on the notice of a
+"foreigner" to whom one had happened to render an accidental service.
 But Mrs. Carfry and her sister, to whom this point of view was unknown,
 and who would have found it utterly incomprehensible, felt themselves
 linked by an eternal gratitude to the "delightful Americans" who had
-been so kind at Botzen.  With touching fidelity they seized every
-chance of meeting Mrs. Archer and Janey in the course of their
-continental travels, and displayed a supernatural acuteness in finding
-out when they were to pass through London on their way to or from the
-States.  The intimacy became indissoluble, and Mrs. Archer and Janey,
-whenever they alighted at Brown's Hotel, found themselves awaited by
-two affectionate friends who, like themselves, cultivated ferns in
-Wardian cases, made macrame lace, read the memoirs of the Baroness
-Bunsen and had views about the occupants of the leading London pulpits.
-As Mrs. Archer said, it made "another thing of London" to know Mrs.
-Carfry and Miss Harle; and by the time that Newland became engaged the
-tie between the families was so firmly established that it was thought
-"only right" to send a wedding invitation to the two English ladies,
-who sent, in return, a pretty bouquet of pressed Alpine flowers under
-glass.  And on the dock, when Newland and his wife sailed for England,
-Mrs. Archer's last word had been:  "You must take May to see Mrs.
-Carfry."
+been so kind at Botzen. With touching fidelity they seized every chance
+of meeting Mrs. Archer and Janey in the course of their continental
+travels, and displayed a supernatural acuteness in finding out when
+they were to pass through London on their way to or from the States.
+The intimacy became indissoluble, and Mrs. Archer and Janey, whenever
+they alighted at Brown's Hotel, found themselves awaited by two
+affectionate friends who, like themselves, cultivated ferns in Wardian
+cases, made macramé lace, read the memoirs of the Baroness Bunsen and
+had views about the occupants of the leading London pulpits. As Mrs.
+Archer said, it made "another thing of London" to know Mrs. Carfry and
+Miss Harle; and by the time that Newland became engaged the tie between
+the families was so firmly established that it was thought "only right"
+to send a wedding invitation to the two English ladies, who sent, in
+return, a pretty bouquet of pressed Alpine flowers under glass. And on
+the dock, when Newland and his wife sailed for England, Mrs. Archer's
+last word had been: "You must take May to see Mrs. Carfry."
 
 Newland and his wife had had no idea of obeying this injunction; but
 Mrs. Carfry, with her usual acuteness, had run them down and sent them
 an invitation to dine; and it was over this invitation that May Archer
 was wrinkling her brows across the tea and muffins.
 
-"It's all very well for you, Newland; you KNOW them.  But I shall feel
-so shy among a lot of people I've never met.  And what shall I wear?"
+"It's all very well for you, Newland; you _know_ them. But I shall feel
+so shy among a lot of people I've never met. And what shall I wear?"
 
-Newland leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.  She looked
-handsomer and more Diana-like than ever.  The moist English air seemed
+Newland leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. She looked
+handsomer and more Diana-like than ever. The moist English air seemed
 to have deepened the bloom of her cheeks and softened the slight
 hardness of her virginal features; or else it was simply the inner glow
 of happiness, shining through like a light under ice.
 
-"Wear, dearest?  I thought a trunkful of things had come from Paris
-last week."
+"Wear, dearest? I thought a trunkful of things had come from Paris last
+week."
 
-"Yes, of course.  I meant to say that I shan't know WHICH to wear."
-She pouted a little.  "I've never dined out in London; and I don't want
-to be ridiculous."
+"Yes, of course. I meant to say that I shan't know _which_ to wear." She
+pouted a little. "I've never dined out in London; and I don't want to
+be ridiculous."
 
-He tried to enter into her perplexity.  "But don't Englishwomen dress
+He tried to enter into her perplexity. "But don't Englishwomen dress
 just like everybody else in the evening?"
 
-"Newland!  How can you ask such funny questions?  When they go to the
+"Newland! How can you ask such funny questions? When they go to the
 theatre in old ball-dresses and bare heads."
 
 "Well, perhaps they wear new ball-dresses at home; but at any rate Mrs.
-Carfry and Miss Harle won't.  They'll wear caps like my mother's--and
+Carfry and Miss Harle won't. They'll wear caps like my mother's--and
 shawls; very soft shawls."
 
 "Yes; but how will the other women be dressed?"
@@ -6091,16 +6073,16 @@ shawls; very soft shawls."
 "Not as well as you, dear," he rejoined, wondering what had suddenly
 developed in her Janey's morbid interest in clothes.
 
-She pushed back her chair with a sigh.  "That's dear of you, Newland;
+She pushed back her chair with a sigh. "That's dear of you, Newland;
 but it doesn't help me much."
 
-He had an inspiration.  "Why not wear your wedding-dress?  That can't
-be wrong, can it?"
+He had an inspiration. "Why not wear your wedding-dress? That can't be
+wrong, can it?"
 
-"Oh, dearest!  If I only had it here!  But it's gone to Paris to be
-made over for next winter, and Worth hasn't sent it back."
+"Oh, dearest! If I only had it here! But it's gone to Paris to be made
+over for next winter, and Worth hasn't sent it back."
 
-"Oh, well--" said Archer, getting up.  "Look here--the fog's lifting.
+"Oh, well--" said Archer, getting up. "Look here--the fog's lifting.
 If we made a dash for the National Gallery we might manage to catch a
 glimpse of the pictures."
 
@@ -6109,52 +6091,52 @@ The Newland Archers were on their way home, after a three months'
 wedding-tour which May, in writing to her girl friends, vaguely
 summarised as "blissful."
 
-They had not gone to the Italian Lakes: on reflection, Archer had not
-been able to picture his wife in that particular setting.  Her own
-inclination (after a month with the Paris dressmakers) was for
-mountaineering in July and swimming in August.  This plan they
+They had not gone to the Italian Lakes: on reflection, Archer had
+not been able to picture his wife in that particular setting. Her
+own inclination (after a month with the Paris dressmakers) was
+for mountaineering in July and swimming in August. This plan they
 punctually fulfilled, spending July at Interlaken and Grindelwald, and
 August at a little place called Etretat, on the Normandy coast, which
-some one had recommended as quaint and quiet.  Once or twice, in the
+some one had recommended as quaint and quiet. Once or twice, in the
 mountains, Archer had pointed southward and said: "There's Italy"; and
-May, her feet in a gentian-bed, had smiled cheerfully, and replied:
-"It would be lovely to go there next winter, if only you didn't have to
-be in New York."
+May, her feet in a gentian-bed, had smiled cheerfully, and replied: "It
+would be lovely to go there next winter, if only you didn't have to be
+in New York."
 
 But in reality travelling interested her even less than he had
-expected.  She regarded it (once her clothes were ordered) as merely an
+expected. She regarded it (once her clothes were ordered) as merely an
 enlarged opportunity for walking, riding, swimming, and trying her hand
 at the fascinating new game of lawn tennis; and when they finally got
 back to London (where they were to spend a fortnight while he ordered
-HIS clothes) she no longer concealed the eagerness with which she
+_his_ clothes) she no longer concealed the eagerness with which she
 looked forward to sailing.
 
 In London nothing interested her but the theatres and the shops; and
-she found the theatres less exciting than the Paris cafes chantants
-where, under the blossoming horse-chestnuts of the Champs Elysees, she
-had had the novel experience of looking down from the restaurant
+she found the theatres less exciting than the Paris _cafés chantants_
+where, under the blossoming horse-chestnuts of the Champs Élysées,
+she had had the novel experience of looking down from the restaurant
 terrace on an audience of "cocottes," and having her husband interpret
 to her as much of the songs as he thought suitable for bridal ears.
 
-Archer had reverted to all his old inherited ideas about marriage.  It
+Archer had reverted to all his old inherited ideas about marriage. It
 was less trouble to conform with the tradition and treat May exactly as
 all his friends treated their wives than to try to put into practice
 the theories with which his untrammelled bachelorhood had dallied.
 There was no use in trying to emancipate a wife who had not the dimmest
 notion that she was not free; and he had long since discovered that
-May's only use of the liberty she supposed herself to possess would be
-to lay it on the altar of her wifely adoration.  Her innate dignity
+May's only use of the liberty she supposed herself to possess would
+be to lay it on the altar of her wifely adoration. Her innate dignity
 would always keep her from making the gift abjectly; and a day might
 even come (as it once had) when she would find strength to take it
-altogether back if she thought she were doing it for his own good.  But
-with a conception of marriage so uncomplicated and incurious as hers
-such a crisis could be brought about only by something visibly
+altogether back if she thought she were doing it for his own good.
+But with a conception of marriage so uncomplicated and incurious as
+hers such a crisis could be brought about only by something visibly
 outrageous in his own conduct; and the fineness of her feeling for him
-made that unthinkable.  Whatever happened, he knew, she would always be
+made that unthinkable. Whatever happened, he knew, she would always be
 loyal, gallant and unresentful; and that pledged him to the practice of
 the same virtues.
 
-All this tended to draw him back into his old habits of mind.  If her
+All this tended to draw him back into his old habits of mind. If her
 simplicity had been the simplicity of pettiness he would have chafed
 and rebelled; but since the lines of her character, though so few, were
 on the same fine mould as her face, she became the tutelary divinity of
@@ -6162,7 +6144,7 @@ all his old traditions and reverences.
 
 Such qualities were scarcely of the kind to enliven foreign travel,
 though they made her so easy and pleasant a companion; but he saw at
-once how they would fall into place in their proper setting.  He had no
+once how they would fall into place in their proper setting. He had no
 fear of being oppressed by them, for his artistic and intellectual life
 would go on, as it always had, outside the domestic circle; and within
 it there would be nothing small and stifling--coming back to his wife
@@ -6172,30 +6154,30 @@ be filled.
 
 All these things went through his mind during their long slow drive
 from Mayfair to South Kensington, where Mrs. Carfry and her sister
-lived.  Archer too would have preferred to escape their friends'
+lived. Archer too would have preferred to escape their friends'
 hospitality: in conformity with the family tradition he had always
 travelled as a sight-seer and looker-on, affecting a haughty
-unconsciousness of the presence of his fellow-beings.  Once only, just
+unconsciousness of the presence of his fellow-beings. Once only, just
 after Harvard, he had spent a few gay weeks at Florence with a band of
 queer Europeanised Americans, dancing all night with titled ladies in
 palaces, and gambling half the day with the rakes and dandies of the
 fashionable club; but it had all seemed to him, though the greatest fun
-in the world, as unreal as a carnival.  These queer cosmopolitan women,
+in the world, as unreal as a carnival. These queer cosmopolitan women,
 deep in complicated love-affairs which they appeared to feel the need
 of retailing to every one they met, and the magnificent young officers
 and elderly dyed wits who were the subjects or the recipients of their
 confidences, were too different from the people Archer had grown up
 among, too much like expensive and rather malodorous hot-house exotics,
-to detain his imagination long.  To introduce his wife into such a
+to detain his imagination long. To introduce his wife into such a
 society was out of the question; and in the course of his travels no
 other had shown any marked eagerness for his company.
 
 Not long after their arrival in London he had run across the Duke of
-St. Austrey, and the Duke, instantly and cordially recognising him, had
-said:  "Look me up, won't you?"--but no proper-spirited American would
-have considered that a suggestion to be acted on, and the meeting was
-without a sequel.  They had even managed to avoid May's English aunt,
-the banker's wife, who was still in Yorkshire; in fact, they had
+St. Austrey, and the Duke, instantly and cordially recognising him,
+had said: "Look me up, won't you?"--but no proper-spirited American
+would have considered that a suggestion to be acted on, and the meeting
+was without a sequel. They had even managed to avoid May's English
+aunt, the banker's wife, who was still in Yorkshire; in fact, they had
 purposely postponed going to London till the autumn in order that their
 arrival during the season might not appear pushing and snobbish to
 these unknown relatives.
@@ -6212,36 +6194,36 @@ again by the religious reverence of even the most unworldly American
 women for the social advantages of dress.
 
 "It's their armour," he thought, "their defence against the unknown,
-and their defiance of it."  And he understood for the first time the
+and their defiance of it." And he understood for the first time the
 earnestness with which May, who was incapable of tying a ribbon in her
 hair to charm him, had gone through the solemn rite of selecting and
 ordering her extensive wardrobe.
 
 He had been right in expecting the party at Mrs. Carfry's to be a small
-one.  Besides their hostess and her sister, they found, in the long
+one. Besides their hostess and her sister, they found, in the long
 chilly drawing-room, only another shawled lady, a genial Vicar who was
 her husband, a silent lad whom Mrs. Carfry named as her nephew, and a
 small dark gentleman with lively eyes whom she introduced as his tutor,
 pronouncing a French name as she did so.
 
-Into this dimly-lit and dim-featured group May Archer floated like a
-swan with the sunset on her: she seemed larger, fairer, more
+Into this dimly-lit and dim-featured group May Archer floated like
+a swan with the sunset on her: she seemed larger, fairer, more
 voluminously rustling than her husband had ever seen her; and he
 perceived that the rosiness and rustlingness were the tokens of an
 extreme and infantile shyness.
 
 "What on earth will they expect me to talk about?" her helpless eyes
 implored him, at the very moment that her dazzling apparition was
-calling forth the same anxiety in their own bosoms.  But beauty, even
+calling forth the same anxiety in their own bosoms. But beauty, even
 when distrustful of itself, awakens confidence in the manly heart; and
 the Vicar and the French-named tutor were soon manifesting to May their
 desire to put her at her ease.
 
 In spite of their best efforts, however, the dinner was a languishing
-affair.  Archer noticed that his wife's way of showing herself at her
+affair. Archer noticed that his wife's way of showing herself at her
 ease with foreigners was to become more uncompromisingly local in her
 references, so that, though her loveliness was an encouragement to
-admiration, her conversation was a chill to repartee.  The Vicar soon
+admiration, her conversation was a chill to repartee. The Vicar soon
 abandoned the struggle; but the tutor, who spoke the most fluent and
 accomplished English, gallantly continued to pour it out to her until
 the ladies, to the manifest relief of all concerned, went up to the
@@ -6249,66 +6231,66 @@ drawing-room.
 
 The Vicar, after a glass of port, was obliged to hurry away to a
 meeting, and the shy nephew, who appeared to be an invalid, was packed
-off to bed.  But Archer and the tutor continued to sit over their wine,
+off to bed. But Archer and the tutor continued to sit over their wine,
 and suddenly Archer found himself talking as he had not done since his
-last symposium with Ned Winsett.  The Carfry nephew, it turned out, had
-been threatened with consumption, and had had to leave Harrow for
+last symposium with Ned Winsett. The Carfry nephew, it turned out,
+had been threatened with consumption, and had had to leave Harrow for
 Switzerland, where he had spent two years in the milder air of Lake
-Leman.  Being a bookish youth, he had been entrusted to M. Riviere, who
-had brought him back to England, and was to remain with him till he
-went up to Oxford the following spring; and M. Riviere added with
+Leman. Being a bookish youth, he had been entrusted to M. Rivière,
+who had brought him back to England, and was to remain with him till
+he went up to Oxford the following spring; and M. Rivière added with
 simplicity that he should then have to look out for another job.
 
 It seemed impossible, Archer thought, that he should be long without
-one, so varied were his interests and so many his gifts.  He was a man
-of about thirty, with a thin ugly face (May would certainly have called
-him common-looking) to which the play of his ideas gave an intense
-expressiveness; but there was nothing frivolous or cheap in his
+one, so varied were his interests and so many his gifts. He was a
+man of about thirty, with a thin ugly face (May would certainly have
+called him common-looking) to which the play of his ideas gave an
+intense expressiveness; but there was nothing frivolous or cheap in his
 animation.
 
-His father, who had died young, had filled a small diplomatic post, and
-it had been intended that the son should follow the same career; but an
-insatiable taste for letters had thrown the young man into journalism,
-then into authorship (apparently unsuccessful), and at length--after
-other experiments and vicissitudes which he spared his listener--into
-tutoring English youths in Switzerland.  Before that, however, he had
-lived much in Paris, frequented the Goncourt grenier, been advised by
-Maupassant not to attempt to write (even that seemed to Archer a
-dazzling honour!), and had often talked with Merimee in his mother's
-house.  He had obviously always been desperately poor and anxious
-(having a mother and an unmarried sister to provide for), and it was
-apparent that his literary ambitions had failed.  His situation, in
-fact, seemed, materially speaking, no more brilliant than Ned
-Winsett's; but he had lived in a world in which, as he said, no one who
-loved ideas need hunger mentally.  As it was precisely of that love
+His father, who had died young, had filled a small diplomatic post,
+and it had been intended that the son should follow the same career;
+but an insatiable taste for letters had thrown the young man into
+journalism, then into authorship (apparently unsuccessful), and at
+length--after other experiments and vicissitudes which he spared his
+listener--into tutoring English youths in Switzerland. Before that,
+however, he had lived much in Paris, frequented the Goncourt _grenier_,
+been advised by Maupassant not to attempt to write (even that seemed
+to Archer a dazzling honour!), and had often talked with Mérimée in
+his mother's house. He had obviously always been desperately poor and
+anxious (having a mother and an unmarried sister to provide for), and
+it was apparent that his literary ambitions had failed. His situation,
+in fact, seemed, materially speaking, no more brilliant than Ned
+Winsett's; but he had lived in a world in which, as he said, no one
+who loved ideas need hunger mentally. As it was precisely of that love
 that poor Winsett was starving to death, Archer looked with a sort of
 vicarious envy at this eager impecunious young man who had fared so
 richly in his poverty.
 
 "You see, Monsieur, it's worth everything, isn't it, to keep one's
 intellectual liberty, not to enslave one's powers of appreciation,
-one's critical independence?  It was because of that that I abandoned
+one's critical independence? It was because of that that I abandoned
 journalism, and took to so much duller work: tutoring and private
-secretaryship.  There is a good deal of drudgery, of course; but one
-preserves one's moral freedom, what we call in French one's quant a
-soi.  And when one hears good talk one can join in it without
+secretaryship. There is a good deal of drudgery, of course; but one
+preserves one's moral freedom, what we call in French one's _quant
+à soi_. And when one hears good talk one can join in it without
 compromising any opinions but one's own; or one can listen, and answer
-it inwardly.  Ah, good conversation--there's nothing like it, is there?
-The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.  And so I have never
+it inwardly. Ah, good conversation--there's nothing like it, is there?
+The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing. And so I have never
 regretted giving up either diplomacy or journalism--two different forms
-of the same self-abdication."  He fixed his vivid eyes on Archer as he
-lit another cigarette.  "Voyez-vous, Monsieur, to be able to look life
-in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it?  But, after
-all, one must earn enough to pay for the garret; and I confess that to
-grow old as a private tutor--or a 'private' anything--is almost as
+of the same self-abdication." He fixed his vivid eyes on Archer as he
+lit another cigarette. "_Voyez-vous_, Monsieur, to be able to look life
+in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it? But, after
+all, one must earn enough to pay for the garret; and I confess that
+to grow old as a private tutor--or a 'private' anything--is almost as
 chilling to the imagination as a second secretaryship at Bucharest.
-Sometimes I feel I must make a plunge: an immense plunge.  Do you
+Sometimes I feel I must make a plunge: an immense plunge. Do you
 suppose, for instance, there would be any opening for me in America--in
 New York?"
 
-Archer looked at him with startled eyes.  New York, for a young man who
+Archer looked at him with startled eyes. New York, for a young man who
 had frequented the Goncourts and Flaubert, and who thought the life of
-ideas the only one worth living!  He continued to stare at M.  Riviere
+ideas the only one worth living! He continued to stare at M. Rivière
 perplexedly, wondering how to tell him that his very superiorities and
 advantages would be the surest hindrance to success.
 
@@ -6317,18 +6299,18 @@ utterly unable to imagine what lucrative opening his native city could
 offer to a young man to whom good conversation appeared to be the only
 necessity.
 
-A sudden flush rose under M. Riviere's sallow skin.  "I--I thought it
+A sudden flush rose under M. Rivière's sallow skin. "I--I thought it
 your metropolis: is not the intellectual life more active there?" he
 rejoined; then, as if fearing to give his hearer the impression of
-having asked a favour, he went on hastily:  "One throws out random
-suggestions--more to one's self than to others.  In reality, I see no
+having asked a favour, he went on hastily: "One throws out random
+suggestions--more to one's self than to others. In reality, I see no
 immediate prospect--" and rising from his seat he added, without a
-trace of constraint:  "But Mrs. Carfry will think that I ought to be
+trace of constraint: "But Mrs. Carfry will think that I ought to be
 taking you upstairs."
 
-During the homeward drive Archer pondered deeply on this episode.  His
-hour with M. Riviere had put new air into his lungs, and his first
-impulse had been to invite him to dine the next day; but he was
+During the homeward drive Archer pondered deeply on this episode.
+His hour with M. Rivière had put new air into his lungs, and his
+first impulse had been to invite him to dine the next day; but he was
 beginning to understand why married men did not always immediately
 yield to their first impulses.
 
@@ -6340,68 +6322,69 @@ May roused herself from one of the dreamy silences into which he had
 read so many meanings before six months of marriage had given him the
 key to them.
 
-"The little Frenchman?  Wasn't he dreadfully common?" she questioned
+"The little Frenchman? Wasn't he dreadfully common?" she questioned
 coldly; and he guessed that she nursed a secret disappointment at
 having been invited out in London to meet a clergyman and a French
-tutor.  The disappointment was not occasioned by the sentiment
-ordinarily defined as snobbishness, but by old New York's sense of what
-was due to it when it risked its dignity in foreign lands.  If May's
-parents had entertained the Carfrys in Fifth Avenue they would have
-offered them something more substantial than a parson and a
+tutor. The disappointment was not occasioned by the sentiment
+ordinarily defined as snobbishness, but by old New York's sense of
+what was due to it when it risked its dignity in foreign lands. If
+May's parents had entertained the Carfrys in Fifth Avenue they would
+have offered them something more substantial than a parson and a
 schoolmaster.
 
 But Archer was on edge, and took her up.
 
-"Common--common WHERE?" he queried; and she returned with unusual
-readiness:  "Why, I should say anywhere but in his school-room.  Those
-people are always awkward in society.  But then," she added
-disarmingly, "I suppose I shouldn't have known if he was clever."
+"Common--common _where_?" he queried; and she returned with unusual
+readiness: "Why, I should say anywhere but in his school-room. Those
+people are always awkward in society. But then," she added disarmingly,
+"I suppose I shouldn't have known if he was clever."
 
 Archer disliked her use of the word "clever" almost as much as her use
 of the word "common"; but he was beginning to fear his tendency to
-dwell on the things he disliked in her.  After all, her point of view
-had always been the same.  It was that of all the people he had grown
-up among, and he had always regarded it as necessary but negligible.
-Until a few months ago he had never known a "nice" woman who looked at
-life differently; and if a man married it must necessarily be among the
-nice.
+dwell on the things he disliked in her. After all, her point of view
+had always been the same. It was that of all the people he had grown up
+among, and he had always regarded it as necessary but negligible. Until
+a few months ago he had never known a "nice" woman who looked at life
+differently; and if a man married it must necessarily be among the nice.
 
 "Ah--then I won't ask him to dine!" he concluded with a laugh; and May
-echoed, bewildered:  "Goodness--ask the Carfrys' tutor?"
+echoed, bewildered: "Goodness--ask the Carfrys' tutor?"
 
 "Well, not on the same day with the Carfrys, if you prefer I shouldn't.
-But I did rather want another talk with him.  He's looking for a job in
+But I did rather want another talk with him. He's looking for a job in
 New York."
 
 Her surprise increased with her indifference: he almost fancied that
 she suspected him of being tainted with "foreignness."
 
-"A job in New York?  What sort of a job?  People don't have French
+"A job in New York? What sort of a job? People don't have French
 tutors: what does he want to do?"
 
 "Chiefly to enjoy good conversation, I understand," her husband
-retorted perversely; and she broke into an appreciative laugh.  "Oh,
-Newland, how funny!  Isn't that FRENCH?"
+retorted perversely; and she broke into an appreciative laugh. "Oh,
+Newland, how funny! Isn't that _French_?"
 
 On the whole, he was glad to have the matter settled for him by her
-refusing to take seriously his wish to invite M. Riviere.  Another
+refusing to take seriously his wish to invite M. Rivière. Another
 after-dinner talk would have made it difficult to avoid the question of
 New York; and the more Archer considered it the less he was able to fit
-M. Riviere into any conceivable picture of New York as he knew it.
+M. Rivière into any conceivable picture of New York as he knew it.
 
 He perceived with a flash of chilling insight that in future many
 problems would be thus negatively solved for him; but as he paid the
 hansom and followed his wife's long train into the house he took refuge
 in the comforting platitude that the first six months were always the
-most difficult in marriage.  "After that I suppose we shall have pretty
+most difficult in marriage. "After that I suppose we shall have pretty
 nearly finished rubbing off each other's angles," he reflected; but the
 worst of it was that May's pressure was already bearing on the very
 angles whose sharpness he most wanted to keep.
 
 
 
+
 XXI.
 
+
 The small bright lawn stretched away smoothly to the big bright sea.
 
 The turf was hemmed with an edge of scarlet geranium and coleus, and
@@ -6412,46 +6395,46 @@ petunia and ivy geranium above the neatly raked gravel.
 Half way between the edge of the cliff and the square wooden house
 (which was also chocolate-coloured, but with the tin roof of the
 verandah striped in yellow and brown to represent an awning) two large
-targets had been placed against a background of shrubbery.  On the
-other side of the lawn, facing the targets, was pitched a real tent,
-with benches and garden-seats about it.  A number of ladies in summer
-dresses and gentlemen in grey frock-coats and tall hats stood on the
-lawn or sat upon the benches; and every now and then a slender girl in
-starched muslin would step from the tent, bow in hand, and speed her
-shaft at one of the targets, while the spectators interrupted their
-talk to watch the result.
+targets had been placed against a background of shrubbery. On the other
+side of the lawn, facing the targets, was pitched a real tent, with
+benches and garden-seats about it. A number of ladies in summer dresses
+and gentlemen in grey frock-coats and tall hats stood on the lawn or
+sat upon the benches; and every now and then a slender girl in starched
+muslin would step from the tent, bow in hand, and speed her shaft at
+one of the targets, while the spectators interrupted their talk to
+watch the result.
 
 Newland Archer, standing on the verandah of the house, looked curiously
-down upon this scene.  On each side of the shiny painted steps was a
-large blue china flower-pot on a bright yellow china stand.  A spiky
+down upon this scene. On each side of the shiny painted steps was a
+large blue china flower-pot on a bright yellow china stand. A spiky
 green plant filled each pot, and below the verandah ran a wide border
-of blue hydrangeas edged with more red geraniums.  Behind him, the
+of blue hydrangeas edged with more red geraniums. Behind him, the
 French windows of the drawing-rooms through which he had passed gave
 glimpses, between swaying lace curtains, of glassy parquet floors
 islanded with chintz poufs, dwarf armchairs, and velvet tables covered
 with trifles in silver.
 
 The Newport Archery Club always held its August meeting at the
-Beauforts'.  The sport, which had hitherto known no rival but croquet,
+Beauforts'. The sport, which had hitherto known no rival but croquet,
 was beginning to be discarded in favour of lawn-tennis; but the latter
 game was still considered too rough and inelegant for social occasions,
 and as an opportunity to show off pretty dresses and graceful attitudes
 the bow and arrow held their own.
 
-Archer looked down with wonder at the familiar spectacle.  It surprised
+Archer looked down with wonder at the familiar spectacle. It surprised
 him that life should be going on in the old way when his own reactions
-to it had so completely changed.  It was Newport that had first brought
-home to him the extent of the change.  In New York, during the previous
+to it had so completely changed. It was Newport that had first brought
+home to him the extent of the change. In New York, during the previous
 winter, after he and May had settled down in the new greenish-yellow
 house with the bow-window and the Pompeian vestibule, he had dropped
-back with relief into the old routine of the office, and the renewal of
-this daily activity had served as a link with his former self.  Then
+back with relief into the old routine of the office, and the renewal
+of this daily activity had served as a link with his former self. Then
 there had been the pleasurable excitement of choosing a showy grey
 stepper for May's brougham (the Wellands had given the carriage), and
 the abiding occupation and interest of arranging his new library,
 which, in spite of family doubts and disapprovals, had been carried out
 as he had dreamed, with a dark embossed paper, Eastlake book-cases and
-"sincere" arm-chairs and tables.  At the Century he had found Winsett
+"sincere" arm-chairs and tables. At the Century he had found Winsett
 again, and at the Knickerbocker the fashionable young men of his own
 set; and what with the hours dedicated to the law and those given to
 dining out or entertaining friends at home, with an occasional evening
@@ -6459,8 +6442,8 @@ at the Opera or the play, the life he was living had still seemed a
 fairly real and inevitable sort of business.
 
 But Newport represented the escape from duty into an atmosphere of
-unmitigated holiday-making.  Archer had tried to persuade May to spend
-the summer on a remote island off the coast of Maine (called,
+unmitigated holiday-making. Archer had tried to persuade May to
+spend the summer on a remote island off the coast of Maine (called,
 appropriately enough, Mount Desert), where a few hardy Bostonians and
 Philadelphians were camping in "native" cottages, and whence came
 reports of enchanting scenery and a wild, almost trapper-like existence
@@ -6468,39 +6451,39 @@ amid woods and waters.
 
 But the Wellands always went to Newport, where they owned one of the
 square boxes on the cliffs, and their son-in-law could adduce no good
-reason why he and May should not join them there.  As Mrs. Welland
+reason why he and May should not join them there. As Mrs. Welland
 rather tartly pointed out, it was hardly worth while for May to have
 worn herself out trying on summer clothes in Paris if she was not to be
 allowed to wear them; and this argument was of a kind to which Archer
 had as yet found no answer.
 
 May herself could not understand his obscure reluctance to fall in with
-so reasonable and pleasant a way of spending the summer.  She reminded
+so reasonable and pleasant a way of spending the summer. She reminded
 him that he had always liked Newport in his bachelor days, and as this
-was indisputable he could only profess that he was sure he was going to
-like it better than ever now that they were to be there together.  But
-as he stood on the Beaufort verandah and looked out on the brightly
+was indisputable he could only profess that he was sure he was going
+to like it better than ever now that they were to be there together.
+But as he stood on the Beaufort verandah and looked out on the brightly
 peopled lawn it came home to him with a shiver that he was not going to
 like it at all.
 
-It was not May's fault, poor dear.  If, now and then, during their
+It was not May's fault, poor dear. If, now and then, during their
 travels, they had fallen slightly out of step, harmony had been
-restored by their return to the conditions she was used to.  He had
+restored by their return to the conditions she was used to. He had
 always foreseen that she would not disappoint him; and he had been
-right.  He had married (as most young men did) because he had met a
+right. He had married (as most young men did) because he had met a
 perfectly charming girl at the moment when a series of rather aimless
 sentimental adventures were ending in premature disgust; and she had
 represented peace, stability, comradeship, and the steadying sense of
 an unescapable duty.
 
 He could not say that he had been mistaken in his choice, for she had
-fulfilled all that he had expected.  It was undoubtedly gratifying to
-be the husband of one of the handsomest and most popular young married
-women in New York, especially when she was also one of the
+fulfilled all that he had expected. It was undoubtedly gratifying
+to be the husband of one of the handsomest and most popular young
+married women in New York, especially when she was also one of the
 sweetest-tempered and most reasonable of wives; and Archer had never
-been insensible to such advantages.  As for the momentary madness which
+been insensible to such advantages. As for the momentary madness which
 had fallen upon him on the eve of his marriage, he had trained himself
-to regard it as the last of his discarded experiments.  The idea that
+to regard it as the last of his discarded experiments. The idea that
 he could ever, in his senses, have dreamed of marrying the Countess
 Olenska had become almost unthinkable, and she remained in his memory
 simply as the most plaintive and poignant of a line of ghosts.
@@ -6511,18 +6494,18 @@ why the busy animated people on the Beaufort lawn shocked him as if
 they had been children playing in a grave-yard.
 
 He heard a murmur of skirts beside him, and the Marchioness Manson
-fluttered out of the drawing-room window.  As usual, she was
+fluttered out of the drawing-room window. As usual, she was
 extraordinarily festooned and bedizened, with a limp Leghorn hat
 anchored to her head by many windings of faded gauze, and a little
 black velvet parasol on a carved ivory handle absurdly balanced over
 her much larger hatbrim.
 
-"My dear Newland, I had no idea that you and May had arrived!  You
-yourself came only yesterday, you say?  Ah,
-business--business--professional duties ... I understand.  Many
+"My dear Newland, I had no idea that you and May had
+arrived! You yourself came only yesterday, you say? Ah,
+business--business--professional duties ... I understand. Many
 husbands, I know, find it impossible to join their wives here except
-for the week-end."  She cocked her head on one side and languished at
-him through screwed-up eyes.  "But marriage is one long sacrifice, as I
+for the week-end." She cocked her head on one side and languished at
+him through screwed-up eyes. "But marriage is one long sacrifice, as I
 used often to remind my Ellen--"
 
 Archer's heart stopped with the queer jerk which it had given once
@@ -6532,62 +6515,60 @@ briefest, for he presently heard Medora answering a question he had
 apparently found voice to put.
 
 "No, I am not staying here, but with the Blenkers, in their delicious
-solitude at Portsmouth.  Beaufort was kind enough to send his famous
+solitude at Portsmouth. Beaufort was kind enough to send his famous
 trotters for me this morning, so that I might have at least a glimpse
 of one of Regina's garden-parties; but this evening I go back to rural
-life.  The Blenkers, dear original beings, have hired a primitive old
+life. The Blenkers, dear original beings, have hired a primitive old
 farm-house at Portsmouth where they gather about them representative
-people ..."  She drooped slightly beneath her protecting brim, and
-added with a faint blush:  "This week Dr. Agathon Carver is holding a
-series of Inner Thought meetings there.  A contrast indeed to this gay
-scene of worldly pleasure--but then I have always lived on contrasts!
-To me the only death is monotony.  I always say to Ellen: Beware of
-monotony; it's the mother of all the deadly sins.  But my poor child is
-going through a phase of exaltation, of abhorrence of the world.  You
-know, I suppose, that she has declined all invitations to stay at
-Newport, even with her grandmother Mingott?  I could hardly persuade
-her to come with me to the Blenkers', if you will believe it!  The life
-she leads is morbid, unnatural.  Ah, if she had only listened to me
-when it was still possible ... When the door was still open ... But
-shall we go down and watch this absorbing match?  I hear your May is
-one of the competitors."
+people ..." She drooped slightly beneath her protecting brim, and added
+with a faint blush: "This week Dr. Agathon Carver is holding a series
+of Inner Thought meetings there. A contrast indeed to this gay scene
+of worldly pleasure--but then I have always lived on contrasts! To me
+the only death is monotony. I always say to Ellen: Beware of monotony;
+it's the mother of all the deadly sins. But my poor child is going
+through a phase of exaltation, of abhorrence of the world. You know,
+I suppose, that she has declined all invitations to stay at Newport,
+even with her grandmother Mingott? I could hardly persuade her to come
+with me to the Blenkers', if you will believe it! The life she leads is
+morbid, unnatural. Ah, if she had only listened to me when it was still
+possible ... When the door was still open ... But shall we go down and
+watch this absorbing match? I hear your May is one of the competitors."
 
 Strolling toward them from the tent Beaufort advanced over the lawn,
 tall, heavy, too tightly buttoned into a London frock-coat, with one of
-his own orchids in its buttonhole.  Archer, who had not seen him for
-two or three months, was struck by the change in his appearance.  In
-the hot summer light his floridness seemed heavy and bloated, and but
-for his erect square-shouldered walk he would have looked like an
-over-fed and over-dressed old man.
+his own orchids in its buttonhole. Archer, who had not seen him for two
+or three months, was struck by the change in his appearance. In the hot
+summer light his floridness seemed heavy and bloated, and but for his
+erect square-shouldered walk he would have looked like an over-fed and
+over-dressed old man.
 
-There were all sorts of rumours afloat about Beaufort.  In the spring
+There were all sorts of rumours afloat about Beaufort. In the spring
 he had gone off on a long cruise to the West Indies in his new
-steam-yacht, and it was reported that, at various points where he had
-touched, a lady resembling Miss Fanny Ring had been seen in his
-company.  The steam-yacht, built in the Clyde, and fitted with tiled
+steam-yacht, and it was reported that, at various points where he
+had touched, a lady resembling Miss Fanny Ring had been seen in his
+company. The steam-yacht, built in the Clyde, and fitted with tiled
 bath-rooms and other unheard-of luxuries, was said to have cost him
 half a million; and the pearl necklace which he had presented to his
-wife on his return was as magnificent as such expiatory offerings are
-apt to be.  Beaufort's fortune was substantial enough to stand the
-strain; and yet the disquieting rumours persisted, not only in Fifth
-Avenue but in Wall Street.  Some people said he had speculated
-unfortunately in railways, others that he was being bled by one of the
-most insatiable members of her profession; and to every report of
+wife on his return was as magnificent as such expiatory offerings
+are apt to be. Beaufort's fortune was substantial enough to stand
+the strain; and yet the disquieting rumours persisted, not only in
+Fifth Avenue but in Wall Street. Some people said he had speculated
+unfortunately in railways, others that he was being bled by one of
+the most insatiable members of her profession; and to every report of
 threatened insolvency Beaufort replied by a fresh extravagance: the
-building of a new row of orchid-houses, the purchase of a new string of
-race-horses, or the addition of a new Meissonnier or Cabanel to his
+building of a new row of orchid-houses, the purchase of a new string
+of race-horses, or the addition of a new Meissonnier or Cabanel to his
 picture-gallery.
 
 He advanced toward the Marchioness and Newland with his usual
-half-sneering smile.  "Hullo, Medora!  Did the trotters do their
-business?  Forty minutes, eh?  ...  Well, that's not so bad,
-considering your nerves had to be spared."  He shook hands with Archer,
-and then, turning back with them, placed himself on Mrs. Manson's other
-side, and said, in a low voice, a few words which their companion did
-not catch.
-
-The Marchioness replied by one of her queer foreign jerks, and a "Que
-voulez-vous?" which deepened Beaufort's frown; but he produced a good
+half-sneering smile. "Hullo, Medora! Did the trotters do their
+business? Forty minutes, eh? ... Well, that's not so bad, considering
+your nerves had to be spared." He shook hands with Archer, and then,
+turning back with them, placed himself on Mrs. Manson's other side, and
+said, in a low voice, a few words which their companion did not catch.
+
+The Marchioness replied by one of her queer foreign jerks, and a "_Que
+voulez-vous?_" which deepened Beaufort's frown; but he produced a good
 semblance of a congratulatory smile as he glanced at Archer to say:
 "You know May's going to carry off the first prize."
 
@@ -6595,46 +6576,45 @@ semblance of a congratulatory smile as he glanced at Archer to say:
 they reached the tent and Mrs. Beaufort met them in a girlish cloud of
 mauve muslin and floating veils.
 
-May Welland was just coming out of the tent.  In her white dress, with
-a pale green ribbon about the waist and a wreath of ivy on her hat, she
+May Welland was just coming out of the tent. In her white dress, with a
+pale green ribbon about the waist and a wreath of ivy on her hat, she
 had the same Diana-like aloofness as when she had entered the Beaufort
-ball-room on the night of her engagement.  In the interval not a
-thought seemed to have passed behind her eyes or a feeling through her
-heart; and though her husband knew that she had the capacity for both
-he marvelled afresh at the way in which experience dropped away from
-her.
+ball-room on the night of her engagement. In the interval not a thought
+seemed to have passed behind her eyes or a feeling through her heart;
+and though her husband knew that she had the capacity for both he
+marvelled afresh at the way in which experience dropped away from her.
 
 She had her bow and arrow in her hand, and placing herself on the
 chalk-mark traced on the turf she lifted the bow to her shoulder and
-took aim.  The attitude was so full of a classic grace that a murmur of
-appreciation followed her appearance, and Archer felt the glow of
-proprietorship that so often cheated him into momentary well-being.
-Her rivals--Mrs. Reggie Chivers, the Merry girls, and divers rosy
-Thorleys, Dagonets and Mingotts, stood behind her in a lovely anxious
-group, brown heads and golden bent above the scores, and pale muslins
-and flower-wreathed hats mingled in a tender rainbow.  All were young
-and pretty, and bathed in summer bloom; but not one had the nymph-like
-ease of his wife, when, with tense muscles and happy frown, she bent
-her soul upon some feat of strength.
+took aim. The attitude was so full of a classic grace that a murmur
+of appreciation followed her appearance, and Archer felt the glow of
+proprietorship that so often cheated him into momentary well-being. Her
+rivals--Mrs. Reggie Chivers, the Merry girls, and divers rosy Thorleys,
+Dagonets and Mingotts, stood behind her in a lovely anxious group,
+brown heads and golden bent above the scores, and pale muslins and
+flower-wreathed hats mingled in a tender rainbow. All were young and
+pretty, and bathed in summer bloom; but not one had the nymph-like ease
+of his wife, when, with tense muscles and happy frown, she bent her
+soul upon some feat of strength.
 
 "Gad," Archer heard Lawrence Lefferts say, "not one of the lot holds
-the bow as she does"; and Beaufort retorted:  "Yes; but that's the only
+the bow as she does"; and Beaufort retorted: "Yes; but that's the only
 kind of target she'll ever hit."
 
-Archer felt irrationally angry.  His host's contemptuous tribute to
+Archer felt irrationally angry. His host's contemptuous tribute to
 May's "niceness" was just what a husband should have wished to hear
-said of his wife.  The fact that a coarseminded man found her lacking
+said of his wife. The fact that a coarse-minded man found her lacking
 in attraction was simply another proof of her quality; yet the words
-sent a faint shiver through his heart.  What if "niceness" carried to
-that supreme degree were only a negation, the curtain dropped before an
-emptiness?  As he looked at May, returning flushed and calm from her
+sent a faint shiver through his heart. What if "niceness" carried to
+that supreme degree were only a negation, the curtain dropped before
+an emptiness? As he looked at May, returning flushed and calm from her
 final bull's-eye, he had the feeling that he had never yet lifted that
 curtain.
 
 She took the congratulations of her rivals and of the rest of the
-company with the simplicity that was her crowning grace.  No one could
+company with the simplicity that was her crowning grace. No one could
 ever be jealous of her triumphs because she managed to give the feeling
-that she would have been just as serene if she had missed them.  But
+that she would have been just as serene if she had missed them. But
 when her eyes met her husband's her face glowed with the pleasure she
 saw in his.
 
@@ -6644,149 +6624,148 @@ Archer sitting at her side.
 
 The afternoon sunlight still lingered upon the bright lawns and
 shrubberies, and up and down Bellevue Avenue rolled a double line of
-victorias, dog-carts, landaus and "vis-a-vis," carrying well-dressed
+victorias, dog-carts, landaus and "vis-à-vis," carrying well-dressed
 ladies and gentlemen away from the Beaufort garden-party, or homeward
 from their daily afternoon turn along the Ocean Drive.
 
-"Shall we go to see Granny?" May suddenly proposed.  "I should like to
-tell her myself that I've won the prize.  There's lots of time before
+"Shall we go to see Granny?" May suddenly proposed. "I should like to
+tell her myself that I've won the prize. There's lots of time before
 dinner."
 
 Archer acquiesced, and she turned the ponies down Narragansett Avenue,
 crossed Spring Street and drove out toward the rocky moorland beyond.
-In this unfashionable region Catherine the Great, always indifferent to
-precedent and thrifty of purse, had built herself in her youth a
-many-peaked and cross-beamed cottage-orne on a bit of cheap land
-overlooking the bay.  Here, in a thicket of stunted oaks, her verandahs
-spread themselves above the island-dotted waters.  A winding drive led
-up between iron stags and blue glass balls embedded in mounds of
+In this unfashionable region Catherine the Great, always indifferent
+to precedent and thrifty of purse, had built herself in her youth
+a many-peaked and cross-beamed _cottage-orné_ on a bit of cheap land
+overlooking the bay. Here, in a thicket of stunted oaks, her verandahs
+spread themselves above the island-dotted waters. A winding drive
+led up between iron stags and blue glass balls embedded in mounds of
 geraniums to a front door of highly-varnished walnut under a striped
 verandah-roof; and behind it ran a narrow hall with a black and yellow
-star-patterned parquet floor, upon which opened four small square rooms
-with heavy flock-papers under ceilings on which an Italian
-house-painter had lavished all the divinities of Olympus.  One of these
+star-patterned parquet floor, upon which opened four small square
+rooms with heavy flock-papers under ceilings on which an Italian
+house-painter had lavished all the divinities of Olympus. One of these
 rooms had been turned into a bedroom by Mrs. Mingott when the burden of
 flesh descended on her, and in the adjoining one she spent her days,
 enthroned in a large armchair between the open door and window, and
-perpetually waving a palm-leaf fan which the prodigious projection of
-her bosom kept so far from the rest of her person that the air it set
-in motion stirred only the fringe of the anti-macassars on the
+perpetually waving a palm-leaf fan which the prodigious projection
+of her bosom kept so far from the rest of her person that the air it
+set in motion stirred only the fringe of the anti-macassars on the
 chair-arms.
 
 Since she had been the means of hastening his marriage old Catherine
 had shown to Archer the cordiality which a service rendered excites
-toward the person served.  She was persuaded that irrepressible passion
-was the cause of his impatience; and being an ardent admirer of
-impulsiveness (when it did not lead to the spending of money) she
+toward the person served. She was persuaded that irrepressible
+passion was the cause of his impatience; and being an ardent admirer
+of impulsiveness (when it did not lead to the spending of money) she
 always received him with a genial twinkle of complicity and a play of
 allusion to which May seemed fortunately impervious.
 
-She examined and appraised with much interest the diamond-tipped arrow
-which had been pinned on May's bosom at the conclusion of the match,
-remarking that in her day a filigree brooch would have been thought
-enough, but that there was no denying that Beaufort did things
+She examined and appraised with much interest the diamond-tipped
+arrow which had been pinned on May's bosom at the conclusion of the
+match, remarking that in her day a filigree brooch would have been
+thought enough, but that there was no denying that Beaufort did things
 handsomely.
 
-"Quite an heirloom, in fact, my dear," the old lady chuckled.  "You
-must leave it in fee to your eldest girl." She pinched May's white arm
-and watched the colour flood her face.  "Well, well, what have I said
-to make you shake out the red flag?  Ain't there going to be any
-daughters--only boys, eh?  Good gracious, look at her blushing again
-all over her blushes!  What--can't I say that either?  Mercy me--when
+"Quite an heirloom, in fact, my dear," the old lady chuckled. "You
+must leave it in fee to your eldest girl." She pinched May's white
+arm and watched the colour flood her face. "Well, well, what have I
+said to make you shake out the red flag? Ain't there going to be any
+daughters--only boys, eh? Good gracious, look at her blushing again
+all over her blushes! What--can't I say that either? Mercy me--when
 my children beg me to have all those gods and goddesses painted out
 overhead I always say I'm too thankful to have somebody about me that
-NOTHING can shock!"
+_nothing_ can shock!"
 
 Archer burst into a laugh, and May echoed it, crimson to the eyes.
 
 "Well, now tell me all about the party, please, my dears, for I shall
 never get a straight word about it out of that silly Medora," the
-ancestress continued; and, as May exclaimed:  "Cousin Medora?  But I
+ancestress continued; and, as May exclaimed: "Cousin Medora? But I
 thought she was going back to Portsmouth?" she answered placidly: "So
-she is--but she's got to come here first to pick up Ellen.  Ah--you
-didn't know Ellen had come to spend the day with me?  Such fol-de-rol,
+she is--but she's got to come here first to pick up Ellen. Ah--you
+didn't know Ellen had come to spend the day with me? Such fol-de-rol,
 her not coming for the summer; but I gave up arguing with young people
-about fifty years ago.  Ellen--ELLEN!" she cried in her shrill old
+about fifty years ago. Ellen--_Ellen_!" she cried in her shrill old
 voice, trying to bend forward far enough to catch a glimpse of the lawn
 beyond the verandah.
 
 There was no answer, and Mrs. Mingott rapped impatiently with her stick
-on the shiny floor.  A mulatto maid-servant in a bright turban,
-replying to the summons, informed her mistress that she had seen "Miss
-Ellen" going down the path to the shore; and Mrs. Mingott turned to
-Archer.
+on the shiny floor. A mulatto maid-servant in a bright turban, replying
+to the summons, informed her mistress that she had seen "Miss Ellen"
+going down the path to the shore; and Mrs. Mingott turned to Archer.
 
 "Run down and fetch her, like a good grandson; this pretty lady will
 describe the party to me," she said; and Archer stood up as if in a
 dream.
 
 He had heard the Countess Olenska's name pronounced often enough during
-the year and a half since they had last met, and was even familiar with
-the main incidents of her life in the interval.  He knew that she had
-spent the previous summer at Newport, where she appeared to have gone a
-great deal into society, but that in the autumn she had suddenly
-sub-let the "perfect house" which Beaufort had been at such pains to
-find for her, and decided to establish herself in Washington.  There,
-during the winter, he had heard of her (as one always heard of pretty
-women in Washington) as shining in the "brilliant diplomatic society"
-that was supposed to make up for the social short-comings of the
-Administration.  He had listened to these accounts, and to various
-contradictory reports on her appearance, her conversation, her point of
-view and her choice of friends, with the detachment with which one
+the year and a half since they had last met, and was even familiar
+with the main incidents of her life in the interval. He knew that
+she had spent the previous summer at Newport, where she appeared to
+have gone a great deal into society, but that in the autumn she had
+suddenly sub-let the "perfect house" which Beaufort had been at such
+pains to find for her, and decided to establish herself in Washington.
+There, during the winter, he had heard of her (as one always heard of
+pretty women in Washington) as shining in the "brilliant diplomatic
+society" that was supposed to make up for the social short-comings of
+the Administration. He had listened to these accounts, and to various
+contradictory reports on her appearance, her conversation, her point
+of view and her choice of friends, with the detachment with which one
 listens to reminiscences of some one long since dead; not till Medora
 suddenly spoke her name at the archery match had Ellen Olenska become a
-living presence to him again.  The Marchioness's foolish lisp had
-called up a vision of the little fire-lit drawing-room and the sound of
-the carriage-wheels returning down the deserted street.  He thought of
-a story he had read, of some peasant children in Tuscany lighting a
-bunch of straw in a wayside cavern, and revealing old silent images in
-their painted tomb ...
+living presence to him again. The Marchioness's foolish lisp had called
+up a vision of the little fire-lit drawing-room and the sound of the
+carriage-wheels returning down the deserted street. He thought of a
+story he had read, of some peasant children in Tuscany lighting a bunch
+of straw in a wayside cavern, and revealing old silent images in their
+painted tomb ...
 
 The way to the shore descended from the bank on which the house was
 perched to a walk above the water planted with weeping willows.
 Through their veil Archer caught the glint of the Lime Rock, with its
 white-washed turret and the tiny house in which the heroic light-house
-keeper, Ida Lewis, was living her last venerable years.  Beyond it lay
+keeper, Ida Lewis, was living her last venerable years. Beyond it lay
 the flat reaches and ugly government chimneys of Goat Island, the bay
 spreading northward in a shimmer of gold to Prudence Island with its
 low growth of oaks, and the shores of Conanicut faint in the sunset
 haze.
 
-From the willow walk projected a slight wooden pier ending in a sort of
-pagoda-like summer-house; and in the pagoda a lady stood, leaning
-against the rail, her back to the shore.  Archer stopped at the sight
-as if he had waked from sleep.  That vision of the past was a dream,
-and the reality was what awaited him in the house on the bank overhead:
-was Mrs. Welland's pony-carriage circling around and around the oval at
-the door, was May sitting under the shameless Olympians and glowing
+From the willow walk projected a slight wooden pier ending in a sort
+of pagoda-like summer-house; and in the pagoda a lady stood, leaning
+against the rail, her back to the shore. Archer stopped at the sight as
+if he had waked from sleep. That vision of the past was a dream, and
+the reality was what awaited him in the house on the bank overhead:
+was Mrs. Welland's pony-carriage circling around and around the oval
+at the door, was May sitting under the shameless Olympians and glowing
 with secret hopes, was the Welland villa at the far end of Bellevue
 Avenue, and Mr. Welland, already dressed for dinner, and pacing the
-drawing-room floor, watch in hand, with dyspeptic impatience--for it
-was one of the houses in which one always knew exactly what is
+drawing-room floor, watch in hand, with dyspeptic impatience--for
+it was one of the houses in which one always knew exactly what is
 happening at a given hour.
 
-"What am I?  A son-in-law--" Archer thought.
+"What am I? A son-in-law--" Archer thought.
 
-The figure at the end of the pier had not moved.  For a long moment the
-young man stood half way down the bank, gazing at the bay furrowed with
-the coming and going of sailboats, yacht-launches, fishing-craft and
-the trailing black coal-barges hauled by noisy tugs.  The lady in the
-summer-house seemed to be held by the same sight.  Beyond the grey
-bastions of Fort Adams a long-drawn sunset was splintering up into a
-thousand fires, and the radiance caught the sail of a catboat as it
-beat out through the channel between the Lime Rock and the shore.
+The figure at the end of the pier had not moved. For a long moment the
+young man stood half way down the bank, gazing at the bay furrowed
+with the coming and going of sailboats, yacht-launches, fishing-craft
+and the trailing black coal-barges hauled by noisy tugs. The lady in
+the summer-house seemed to be held by the same sight. Beyond the grey
+bastions of Fort Adams a long-drawn sunset was splintering up into
+a thousand fires, and the radiance caught the sail of a catboat as
+it beat out through the channel between the Lime Rock and the shore.
 Archer, as he watched, remembered the scene in the Shaughraun, and
 Montague lifting Ada Dyas's ribbon to his lips without her knowing that
 he was in the room.
 
-"She doesn't know--she hasn't guessed.  Shouldn't I know if she came up
-behind me, I wonder?" he mused; and suddenly he said to himself:  "If
+"She doesn't know--she hasn't guessed. Shouldn't I know if she came up
+behind me, I wonder?" he mused; and suddenly he said to himself: "If
 she doesn't turn before that sail crosses the Lime Rock light I'll go
 back."
 
-The boat was gliding out on the receding tide.  It slid before the Lime
+The boat was gliding out on the receding tide. It slid before the Lime
 Rock, blotted out Ida Lewis's little house, and passed across the
-turret in which the light was hung.  Archer waited till a wide space of
+turret in which the light was hung. Archer waited till a wide space of
 water sparkled between the last reef of the island and the stern of the
 boat; but still the figure in the summer-house did not move.
 
@@ -6794,25 +6773,25 @@ He turned and walked up the hill.
 
 
 "I'm sorry you didn't find Ellen--I should have liked to see her
-again," May said as they drove home through the dusk.  "But perhaps she
+again," May said as they drove home through the dusk. "But perhaps she
 wouldn't have cared--she seems so changed."
 
 "Changed?" echoed her husband in a colourless voice, his eyes fixed on
 the ponies' twitching ears.
 
 "So indifferent to her friends, I mean; giving up New York and her
-house, and spending her time with such queer people.  Fancy how
-hideously uncomfortable she must be at the Blenkers'!  She says she
+house, and spending her time with such queer people. Fancy how
+hideously uncomfortable she must be at the Blenkers'! She says she
 does it to keep cousin Medora out of mischief: to prevent her marrying
-dreadful people.  But I sometimes think we've always bored her."
+dreadful people. But I sometimes think we've always bored her."
 
 Archer made no answer, and she continued, with a tinge of hardness that
-he had never before noticed in her frank fresh voice:  "After all, I
+he had never before noticed in her frank fresh voice: "After all, I
 wonder if she wouldn't be happier with her husband."
 
-He burst into a laugh.  "Sancta simplicitas!" he exclaimed; and as she
-turned a puzzled frown on him he added:  "I don't think I ever heard
-you say a cruel thing before."
+He burst into a laugh. "_Sancta simplicitas!_" he exclaimed; and as she
+turned a puzzled frown on him he added: "I don't think I ever heard you
+say a cruel thing before."
 
 "Cruel?"
 
@@ -6826,22 +6805,22 @@ himself gently relegated to the category of unreasonable husbands.
 
 They drove down Bellevue Avenue and turned in between the chamfered
 wooden gate-posts surmounted by cast-iron lamps which marked the
-approach to the Welland villa.  Lights were already shining through its
+approach to the Welland villa. Lights were already shining through its
 windows, and Archer, as the carriage stopped, caught a glimpse of his
 father-in-law, exactly as he had pictured him, pacing the drawing-room,
 watch in hand and wearing the pained expression that he had long since
 found to be much more efficacious than anger.
 
-The young man, as he followed his wife into the hall, was conscious of
-a curious reversal of mood.  There was something about the luxury of
-the Welland house and the density of the Welland atmosphere, so charged
-with minute observances and exactions, that always stole into his
-system like a narcotic.  The heavy carpets, the watchful servants, the
-perpetually reminding tick of disciplined clocks, the perpetually
+The young man, as he followed his wife into the hall, was conscious
+of a curious reversal of mood. There was something about the luxury
+of the Welland house and the density of the Welland atmosphere, so
+charged with minute observances and exactions, that always stole into
+his system like a narcotic. The heavy carpets, the watchful servants,
+the perpetually reminding tick of disciplined clocks, the perpetually
 renewed stack of cards and invitations on the hall table, the whole
 chain of tyrannical trifles binding one hour to the next, and each
 member of the household to all the others, made any less systematised
-and affluent existence seem unreal and precarious.  But now it was the
+and affluent existence seem unreal and precarious. But now it was the
 Welland house, and the life he was expected to lead in it, that had
 become unreal and irrelevant, and the brief scene on the shore, when he
 had stood irresolute, halfway down the bank, was as close to him as the
@@ -6854,8 +6833,10 @@ trotters.
 
 
 
+
 XXII.
 
+
 "A party for the Blenkers--the Blenkers?"
 
 Mr. Welland laid down his knife and fork and looked anxiously and
@@ -6864,69 +6845,68 @@ gold eye-glasses, read aloud, in the tone of high comedy:
 
 "Professor and Mrs. Emerson Sillerton request the pleasure of Mr. and
 Mrs. Welland's company at the meeting of the Wednesday Afternoon Club
-on August 25th at 3 o'clock punctually.  To meet Mrs. and the Misses
+on August 25th at 3 o'clock punctually. To meet Mrs. and the Misses
 Blenker.
 
-"Red Gables, Catherine Street.  R. S. V. P."
+"Red Gables, Catherine Street. R. S. V. P."
 
 
 "Good gracious--" Mr. Welland gasped, as if a second reading had been
 necessary to bring the monstrous absurdity of the thing home to him.
 
 "Poor Amy Sillerton--you never can tell what her husband will do next,"
-Mrs. Welland sighed.  "I suppose he's just discovered the Blenkers."
-
-Professor Emerson Sillerton was a thorn in the side of Newport society;
-and a thorn that could not be plucked out, for it grew on a venerable
-and venerated family tree.  He was, as people said, a man who had had
-"every advantage."  His father was Sillerton Jackson's uncle, his
-mother a Pennilow of Boston; on each side there was wealth and
-position, and mutual suitability.  Nothing--as Mrs. Welland had often
-remarked--nothing on earth obliged Emerson Sillerton to be an
-archaeologist, or indeed a Professor of any sort, or to live in Newport
-in winter, or do any of the other revolutionary things that he did.
-But at least, if he was going to break with tradition and flout society
-in the face, he need not have married poor Amy Dagonet, who had a right
-to expect "something different," and money enough to keep her own
-carriage.
+Mrs. Welland sighed. "I suppose he's just discovered the Blenkers."
+
+Professor Emerson Sillerton was a thorn in the side of Newport
+society; and a thorn that could not be plucked out, for it grew on a
+venerable and venerated family tree. He was, as people said, a man
+who had had "every advantage." His father was Sillerton Jackson's
+uncle, his mother a Pennilow of Boston; on each side there was wealth
+and position, and mutual suitability. Nothing--as Mrs. Welland had
+often remarked--nothing on earth obliged Emerson Sillerton to be an
+archæologist, or indeed a Professor of any sort, or to live in Newport
+in winter, or do any of the other revolutionary things that he did. But
+at least, if he was going to break with tradition and flout society in
+the face, he need not have married poor Amy Dagonet, who had a right to
+expect "something different," and money enough to keep her own carriage.
 
 No one in the Mingott set could understand why Amy Sillerton had
-submitted so tamely to the eccentricities of a husband who filled the
-house with long-haired men and short-haired women, and, when he
+submitted so tamely to the eccentricities of a husband who filled
+the house with long-haired men and short-haired women, and, when he
 travelled, took her to explore tombs in Yucatan instead of going to
-Paris or Italy.  But there they were, set in their ways, and apparently
+Paris or Italy. But there they were, set in their ways, and apparently
 unaware that they were different from other people; and when they gave
 one of their dreary annual garden-parties every family on the Cliffs,
 because of the Sillerton-Pennilow-Dagonet connection, had to draw lots
 and send an unwilling representative.
 
 "It's a wonder," Mrs. Welland remarked, "that they didn't choose the
-Cup Race day!  Do you remember, two years ago, their giving a party for
-a black man on the day of Julia Mingott's the dansant?  Luckily this
+Cup Race day! Do you remember, two years ago, their giving a party for
+a black man on the day of Julia Mingott's _thé dansant_? Luckily this
 time there's nothing else going on that I know of--for of course some
 of us will have to go."
 
-Mr. Welland sighed nervously.  "'Some of us,' my dear--more than one?
-Three o'clock is such a very awkward hour.  I have to be here at
+Mr. Welland sighed nervously. "'Some of us,' my dear--more than one?
+Three o'clock is such a very awkward hour. I have to be here at
 half-past three to take my drops: it's really no use trying to follow
 Bencomb's new treatment if I don't do it systematically; and if I join
-you later, of course I shall miss my drive."  At the thought he laid
+you later, of course I shall miss my drive." At the thought he laid
 down his knife and fork again, and a flush of anxiety rose to his
 finely-wrinkled cheek.
 
 "There's no reason why you should go at all, my dear," his wife
-answered with a cheerfulness that had become automatic.  "I have some
+answered with a cheerfulness that had become automatic. "I have some
 cards to leave at the other end of Bellevue Avenue, and I'll drop in at
 about half-past three and stay long enough to make poor Amy feel that
-she hasn't been slighted."  She glanced hesitatingly at her daughter.
+she hasn't been slighted." She glanced hesitatingly at her daughter.
 "And if Newland's afternoon is provided for perhaps May can drive you
 out with the ponies, and try their new russet harness."
 
 It was a principle in the Welland family that people's days and hours
-should be what Mrs. Welland called "provided for."  The melancholy
-possibility of having to "kill time" (especially for those who did not
-care for whist or solitaire) was a vision that haunted her as the
-spectre of the unemployed haunts the philanthropist.  Another of her
+should be what Mrs. Welland called "provided for." The melancholy
+possibility of having to "kill time" (especially for those who did
+not care for whist or solitaire) was a vision that haunted her as the
+spectre of the unemployed haunts the philanthropist. Another of her
 principles was that parents should never (at least visibly) interfere
 with the plans of their married children; and the difficulty of
 adjusting this respect for May's independence with the exigency of Mr.
@@ -6935,17 +6915,17 @@ which left not a second of Mrs. Welland's own time unprovided for.
 
 "Of course I'll drive with Papa--I'm sure Newland will find something
 to do," May said, in a tone that gently reminded her husband of his
-lack of response.  It was a cause of constant distress to Mrs. Welland
+lack of response. It was a cause of constant distress to Mrs. Welland
 that her son-in-law showed so little foresight in planning his days.
-Often already, during the fortnight that he had passed under her roof,
-when she enquired how he meant to spend his afternoon, he had answered
-paradoxically:  "Oh, I think for a change I'll just save it instead of
-spending it--" and once, when she and May had had to go on a
-long-postponed round of afternoon calls, he had confessed to having
+Often already, during the fortnight that he had passed under her
+roof, when she enquired how he meant to spend his afternoon, he had
+answered paradoxically: "Oh, I think for a change I'll just save it
+instead of spending it--" and once, when she and May had had to go on
+a long-postponed round of afternoon calls, he had confessed to having
 lain all the afternoon under a rock on the beach below the house.
 
 "Newland never seems to look ahead," Mrs. Welland once ventured to
-complain to her daughter; and May answered serenely:  "No; but you see
+complain to her daughter; and May answered serenely: "No; but you see
 it doesn't matter, because when there's nothing particular to do he
 reads a book."
 
@@ -6956,33 +6936,33 @@ was tacitly dropped.
 Nevertheless, as the day for the Sillerton reception approached, May
 began to show a natural solicitude for his welfare, and to suggest a
 tennis match at the Chiverses', or a sail on Julius Beaufort's cutter,
-as a means of atoning for her temporary desertion.  "I shall be back by
+as a means of atoning for her temporary desertion. "I shall be back by
 six, you know, dear: Papa never drives later than that--" and she was
 not reassured till Archer said that he thought of hiring a run-about
 and driving up the island to a stud-farm to look at a second horse for
-her brougham.  They had been looking for this horse for some time, and
+her brougham. They had been looking for this horse for some time, and
 the suggestion was so acceptable that May glanced at her mother as if
-to say:  "You see he knows how to plan out his time as well as any of
+to say: "You see he knows how to plan out his time as well as any of
 us."
 
 The idea of the stud-farm and the brougham horse had germinated in
-Archer's mind on the very day when the Emerson Sillerton invitation had
-first been mentioned; but he had kept it to himself as if there were
-something clandestine in the plan, and discovery might prevent its
-execution.  He had, however, taken the precaution to engage in advance
-a runabout with a pair of old livery-stable trotters that could still
+Archer's mind on the very day when the Emerson Sillerton invitation
+had first been mentioned; but he had kept it to himself as if there
+were something clandestine in the plan, and discovery might prevent its
+execution. He had, however, taken the precaution to engage in advance
+a run-about with a pair of old livery-stable trotters that could still
 do their eighteen miles on level roads; and at two o'clock, hastily
 deserting the luncheon-table, he sprang into the light carriage and
 drove off.
 
-The day was perfect.  A breeze from the north drove little puffs of
+The day was perfect. A breeze from the north drove little puffs of
 white cloud across an ultramarine sky, with a bright sea running under
-it.  Bellevue Avenue was empty at that hour, and after dropping the
+it. Bellevue Avenue was empty at that hour, and after dropping the
 stable-lad at the corner of Mill Street Archer turned down the Old
 Beach Road and drove across Eastman's Beach.
 
 He had the feeling of unexplained excitement with which, on
-half-holidays at school, he used to start off into the unknown.  Taking
+half-holidays at school, he used to start off into the unknown. Taking
 his pair at an easy gait, he counted on reaching the stud-farm, which
 was not far beyond Paradise Rocks, before three o'clock; so that, after
 looking over the horse (and trying him if he seemed promising) he would
@@ -6990,229 +6970,231 @@ still have four golden hours to dispose of.
 
 As soon as he heard of the Sillerton's party he had said to himself
 that the Marchioness Manson would certainly come to Newport with the
-Blenkers, and that Madame Olenska might again take the opportunity of
-spending the day with her grandmother.  At any rate, the Blenker
+Blenkers, and that Madame Olenska might again take the opportunity
+of spending the day with her grandmother. At any rate, the Blenker
 habitation would probably be deserted, and he would be able, without
-indiscretion, to satisfy a vague curiosity concerning it.  He was not
-sure that he wanted to see the Countess Olenska again; but ever since
-he had looked at her from the path above the bay he had wanted,
+indiscretion, to satisfy a vague curiosity concerning it. He was
+not sure that he wanted to see the Countess Olenska again; but ever
+since he had looked at her from the path above the bay he had wanted,
 irrationally and indescribably, to see the place she was living in, and
 to follow the movements of her imagined figure as he had watched the
-real one in the summer-house.  The longing was with him day and night,
+real one in the summer-house. The longing was with him day and night,
 an incessant undefinable craving, like the sudden whim of a sick man
-for food or drink once tasted and long since forgotten.  He could not
+for food or drink once tasted and long since forgotten. He could not
 see beyond the craving, or picture what it might lead to, for he was
 not conscious of any wish to speak to Madame Olenska or to hear her
-voice.  He simply felt that if he could carry away the vision of the
+voice. He simply felt that if he could carry away the vision of the
 spot of earth she walked on, and the way the sky and sea enclosed it,
 the rest of the world might seem less empty.
 
 When he reached the stud-farm a glance showed him that the horse was
 not what he wanted; nevertheless he took a turn behind it in order to
-prove to himself that he was not in a hurry.  But at three o'clock he
+prove to himself that he was not in a hurry. But at three o'clock he
 shook out the reins over the trotters and turned into the by-roads
-leading to Portsmouth.  The wind had dropped and a faint haze on the
+leading to Portsmouth. The wind had dropped and a faint haze on the
 horizon showed that a fog was waiting to steal up the Saconnet on the
 turn of the tide; but all about him fields and woods were steeped in
 golden light.
 
 He drove past grey-shingled farm-houses in orchards, past hay-fields
 and groves of oak, past villages with white steeples rising sharply
-into the fading sky; and at last, after stopping to ask the way of some
-men at work in a field, he turned down a lane between high banks of
-goldenrod and brambles.  At the end of the lane was the blue glimmer of
-the river; to the left, standing in front of a clump of oaks and
+into the fading sky; and at last, after stopping to ask the way of
+some men at work in a field, he turned down a lane between high banks
+of goldenrod and brambles. At the end of the lane was the blue glimmer
+of the river; to the left, standing in front of a clump of oaks and
 maples, he saw a long tumble-down house with white paint peeling from
 its clapboards.
 
 On the road-side facing the gateway stood one of the open sheds in
 which the New Englander shelters his farming implements and visitors
 "hitch" their "teams." Archer, jumping down, led his pair into the
-shed, and after tying them to a post turned toward the house.  The
-patch of lawn before it had relapsed into a hay-field; but to the left
-an overgrown box-garden full of dahlias and rusty rose-bushes encircled
-a ghostly summer-house of trellis-work that had once been white,
-surmounted by a wooden Cupid who had lost his bow and arrow but
+shed, and after tying them to a post turned toward the house. The
+patch of lawn before it had relapsed into a hay-field; but to the
+left an overgrown box-garden full of dahlias and rusty rose-bushes
+encircled a ghostly summer-house of trellis-work that had once been
+white, surmounted by a wooden Cupid who had lost his bow and arrow but
 continued to take ineffectual aim.
 
-Archer leaned for a while against the gate.  No one was in sight, and
-not a sound came from the open windows of the house: a grizzled
+Archer leaned for a while against the gate. No one was in sight,
+and not a sound came from the open windows of the house: a grizzled
 Newfoundland dozing before the door seemed as ineffectual a guardian as
-the arrowless Cupid.  It was strange to think that this place of
-silence and decay was the home of the turbulent Blenkers; yet Archer
-was sure that he was not mistaken.
+the arrowless Cupid. It was strange to think that this place of silence
+and decay was the home of the turbulent Blenkers; yet Archer was sure
+that he was not mistaken.
 
 For a long time he stood there, content to take in the scene, and
 gradually falling under its drowsy spell; but at length he roused
-himself to the sense of the passing time.  Should he look his fill and
-then drive away?  He stood irresolute, wishing suddenly to see the
+himself to the sense of the passing time. Should he look his fill and
+then drive away? He stood irresolute, wishing suddenly to see the
 inside of the house, so that he might picture the room that Madame
-Olenska sat in.  There was nothing to prevent his walking up to the
-door and ringing the bell; if, as he supposed, she was away with the
-rest of the party, he could easily give his name, and ask permission to
-go into the sitting-room to write a message.
-
-But instead, he crossed the lawn and turned toward the box-garden.  As
-he entered it he caught sight of something bright-coloured in the
-summer-house, and presently made it out to be a pink parasol.  The
-parasol drew him like a magnet: he was sure it was hers.  He went into
+Olenska sat in. There was nothing to prevent his walking up to the door
+and ringing the bell; if, as he supposed, she was away with the rest of
+the party, he could easily give his name, and ask permission to go into
+the sitting-room to write a message.
+
+But instead, he crossed the lawn and turned toward the box-garden.
+As he entered it he caught sight of something bright-coloured in the
+summer-house, and presently made it out to be a pink parasol. The
+parasol drew him like a magnet: he was sure it was hers. He went into
 the summer-house, and sitting down on the rickety seat picked up the
 silken thing and looked at its carved handle, which was made of some
-rare wood that gave out an aromatic scent.  Archer lifted the handle to
+rare wood that gave out an aromatic scent. Archer lifted the handle to
 his lips.
 
 He heard a rustle of skirts against the box, and sat motionless,
 leaning on the parasol handle with clasped hands, and letting the
-rustle come nearer without lifting his eyes.  He had always known that
+rustle come nearer without lifting his eyes. He had always known that
 this must happen ...
 
 "Oh, Mr. Archer!" exclaimed a loud young voice; and looking up he saw
 before him the youngest and largest of the Blenker girls, blonde and
-blowsy, in bedraggled muslin.  A red blotch on one of her cheeks seemed
+blowsy, in bedraggled muslin. A red blotch on one of her cheeks seemed
 to show that it had recently been pressed against a pillow, and her
 half-awakened eyes stared at him hospitably but confusedly.
 
-"Gracious--where did you drop from?  I must have been sound asleep in
-the hammock.  Everybody else has gone to Newport.  Did you ring?" she
+"Gracious--where did you drop from? I must have been sound asleep in
+the hammock. Everybody else has gone to Newport. Did you ring?" she
 incoherently enquired.
 
-Archer's confusion was greater than hers.  "I--no--that is, I was just
-going to.  I had to come up the island to see about a horse, and I
-drove over on a chance of finding Mrs. Blenker and your visitors.  But
-the house seemed empty--so I sat down to wait."
+Archer's confusion was greater than hers. "I--no--that is, I was just
+going to. I had to come up the island to see about a horse, and I drove
+over on a chance of finding Mrs. Blenker and your visitors. But the
+house seemed empty--so I sat down to wait."
 
 Miss Blenker, shaking off the fumes of sleep, looked at him with
-increasing interest.  "The house IS empty.  Mother's not here, or the
-Marchioness--or anybody but me."  Her glance became faintly
-reproachful.  "Didn't you know that Professor and Mrs. Sillerton are
-giving a garden-party for mother and all of us this afternoon?  It was
-too unlucky that I couldn't go; but I've had a sore throat, and mother
-was afraid of the drive home this evening.  Did you ever know anything
-so disappointing?  Of course," she added gaily, "I shouldn't have
-minded half as much if I'd known you were coming."
+increasing interest. "The house _is_ empty. Mother's not here, or the
+Marchioness--or anybody but me." Her glance became faintly reproachful.
+"Didn't you know that Professor and Mrs. Sillerton are giving a
+garden-party for mother and all of us this afternoon? It was too
+unlucky that I couldn't go; but I've had a sore throat, and mother was
+afraid of the drive home this evening. Did you ever know anything so
+disappointing? Of course," she added gaily, "I shouldn't have minded
+half as much if I'd known you were coming."
 
 Symptoms of a lumbering coquetry became visible in her, and Archer
-found the strength to break in:  "But Madame Olenska--has she gone to
+found the strength to break in: "But Madame Olenska--has she gone to
 Newport too?"
 
-Miss Blenker looked at him with surprise.  "Madame Olenska--didn't you
+Miss Blenker looked at him with surprise. "Madame Olenska--didn't you
 know she'd been called away?"
 
 "Called away?--"
 
-"Oh, my best parasol!  I lent it to that goose of a Katie, because it
+"Oh, my best parasol! I lent it to that goose of a Katie, because it
 matched her ribbons, and the careless thing must have dropped it here.
-We Blenkers are all like that ... real Bohemians!"  Recovering the
+We Blenkers are all like that ... real Bohemians!" Recovering the
 sunshade with a powerful hand she unfurled it and suspended its rosy
-dome above her head.  "Yes, Ellen was called away yesterday: she lets
-us call her Ellen, you know.  A telegram came from Boston: she said she
-might be gone for two days.  I do LOVE the way she does her hair, don't
+dome above her head. "Yes, Ellen was called away yesterday: she lets
+us call her Ellen, you know. A telegram came from Boston: she said she
+might be gone for two days. I do _love_ the way she does her hair, don't
 you?" Miss Blenker rambled on.
 
 Archer continued to stare through her as though she had been
-transparent.  All he saw was the trumpery parasol that arched its
+transparent. All he saw was the trumpery parasol that arched its
 pinkness above her giggling head.
 
-After a moment he ventured:  "You don't happen to know why Madame
-Olenska went to Boston?  I hope it was not on account of bad news?"
+After a moment he ventured: "You don't happen to know why Madame
+Olenska went to Boston? I hope it was not on account of bad news?"
 
-Miss Blenker took this with a cheerful incredulity.  "Oh, I don't
-believe so.  She didn't tell us what was in the telegram.  I think she
-didn't want the Marchioness to know.  She's so romantic-looking, isn't
-she?  Doesn't she remind you of Mrs. Scott-Siddons when she reads 'Lady
-Geraldine's Courtship'?  Did you never hear her?"
+Miss Blenker took this with a cheerful incredulity. "Oh, I don't
+believe so. She didn't tell us what was in the telegram. I think she
+didn't want the Marchioness to know. She's so romantic-looking, isn't
+she? Doesn't she remind you of Mrs. Scott-Siddons when she reads 'Lady
+Geraldine's Courtship'? Did you never hear her?"
 
-Archer was dealing hurriedly with crowding thoughts.  His whole future
+Archer was dealing hurriedly with crowding thoughts. His whole future
 seemed suddenly to be unrolled before him; and passing down its endless
 emptiness he saw the dwindling figure of a man to whom nothing was ever
-to happen.  He glanced about him at the unpruned garden, the
-tumble-down house, and the oak-grove under which the dusk was
-gathering.  It had seemed so exactly the place in which he ought to
-have found Madame Olenska; and she was far away, and even the pink
-sunshade was not hers ...
+to happen. He glanced about him at the unpruned garden, the tumble-down
+house, and the oak-grove under which the dusk was gathering. It had
+seemed so exactly the place in which he ought to have found Madame
+Olenska; and she was far away, and even the pink sunshade was not hers
+...
 
-He frowned and hesitated.  "You don't know, I suppose--I shall be in
-Boston tomorrow.  If I could manage to see her--"
+He frowned and hesitated. "You don't know, I suppose--I shall be in
+Boston tomorrow. If I could manage to see her--"
 
 He felt that Miss Blenker was losing interest in him, though her smile
-persisted.  "Oh, of course; how lovely of you!  She's staying at the
+persisted. "Oh, of course; how lovely of you! She's staying at the
 Parker House; it must be horrible there in this weather."
 
 After that Archer was but intermittently aware of the remarks they
-exchanged.  He could only remember stoutly resisting her entreaty that
+exchanged. He could only remember stoutly resisting her entreaty that
 he should await the returning family and have high tea with them before
-he drove home.  At length, with his hostess still at his side, he
-passed out of range of the wooden Cupid, unfastened his horses and
-drove off.  At the turn of the lane he saw Miss Blenker standing at the
-gate and waving the pink parasol.
+he drove home. At length, with his hostess still at his side, he passed
+out of range of the wooden Cupid, unfastened his horses and drove off.
+At the turn of the lane he saw Miss Blenker standing at the gate and
+waving the pink parasol.
+
 
 
 
 XXIII.
 
+
 The next morning, when Archer got out of the Fall River train, he
-emerged upon a steaming midsummer Boston.  The streets near the station
+emerged upon a steaming midsummer Boston. The streets near the station
 were full of the smell of beer and coffee and decaying fruit and a
 shirt-sleeved populace moved through them with the intimate abandon of
 boarders going down the passage to the bathroom.
 
-Archer found a cab and drove to the Somerset Club for breakfast.  Even
-the fashionable quarters had the air of untidy domesticity to which no
-excess of heat ever degrades the European cities.  Care-takers in
+Archer found a cab and drove to the Somerset Club for breakfast. Even
+the fashionable quarters had the air of untidy domesticity to which
+no excess of heat ever degrades the European cities. Care-takers in
 calico lounged on the door-steps of the wealthy, and the Common looked
-like a pleasure-ground on the morrow of a Masonic picnic.  If Archer
-had tried to imagine Ellen Olenska in improbable scenes he could not
-have called up any into which it was more difficult to fit her than
-this heat-prostrated and deserted Boston.
+like a pleasure-ground on the morrow of a Masonic picnic. If Archer had
+tried to imagine Ellen Olenska in improbable scenes he could not have
+called up any into which it was more difficult to fit her than this
+heat-prostrated and deserted Boston.
 
 He breakfasted with appetite and method, beginning with a slice of
-melon, and studying a morning paper while he waited for his toast and
-scrambled eggs.  A new sense of energy and activity had possessed him
-ever since he had announced to May the night before that he had
+melon, and studying a morning paper while he waited for his toast
+and scrambled eggs. A new sense of energy and activity had possessed
+him ever since he had announced to May the night before that he had
 business in Boston, and should take the Fall River boat that night and
-go on to New York the following evening.  It had always been understood
+go on to New York the following evening. It had always been understood
 that he would return to town early in the week, and when he got back
 from his expedition to Portsmouth a letter from the office, which fate
 had conspicuously placed on a corner of the hall table, sufficed to
-justify his sudden change of plan.  He was even ashamed of the ease
+justify his sudden change of plan. He was even ashamed of the ease
 with which the whole thing had been done: it reminded him, for an
 uncomfortable moment, of Lawrence Lefferts's masterly contrivances for
-securing his freedom.  But this did not long trouble him, for he was
-not in an analytic mood.
+securing his freedom. But this did not long trouble him, for he was not
+in an analytic mood.
 
 After breakfast he smoked a cigarette and glanced over the Commercial
-Advertiser.  While he was thus engaged two or three men he knew came
-in, and the usual greetings were exchanged: it was the same world after
+Advertiser. While he was thus engaged two or three men he knew came in,
+and the usual greetings were exchanged: it was the same world after
 all, though he had such a queer sense of having slipped through the
 meshes of time and space.
 
 He looked at his watch, and finding that it was half-past nine got up
-and went into the writing-room.  There he wrote a few lines, and
-ordered a messenger to take a cab to the Parker House and wait for the
-answer.  He then sat down behind another newspaper and tried to
-calculate how long it would take a cab to get to the Parker House.
+and went into the writing-room. There he wrote a few lines, and ordered
+a messenger to take a cab to the Parker House and wait for the answer.
+He then sat down behind another newspaper and tried to calculate how
+long it would take a cab to get to the Parker House.
 
 "The lady was out, sir," he suddenly heard a waiter's voice at his
-elbow; and he stammered:  "Out?--" as if it were a word in a strange
+elbow; and he stammered: "Out?--" as if it were a word in a strange
 language.
 
-He got up and went into the hall.  It must be a mistake: she could not
-be out at that hour.  He flushed with anger at his own stupidity: why
+He got up and went into the hall. It must be a mistake: she could not
+be out at that hour. He flushed with anger at his own stupidity: why
 had he not sent the note as soon as he arrived?
 
-He found his hat and stick and went forth into the street.  The city
-had suddenly become as strange and vast and empty as if he were a
-traveller from distant lands.  For a moment he stood on the door-step
-hesitating; then he decided to go to the Parker House.  What if the
-messenger had been misinformed, and she were still there?
-
-He started to walk across the Common; and on the first bench, under a
-tree, he saw her sitting.  She had a grey silk sunshade over her
-head--how could he ever have imagined her with a pink one?  As he
-approached he was struck by her listless attitude: she sat there as if
-she had nothing else to do.  He saw her drooping profile, and the knot
-of hair fastened low in the neck under her dark hat, and the long
-wrinkled glove on the hand that held the sunshade.  He came a step or
+He found his hat and stick and went forth into the street. The city had
+suddenly become as strange and vast and empty as if he were a traveller
+from distant lands. For a moment he stood on the door-step hesitating;
+then he decided to go to the Parker House. What if the messenger had
+been misinformed, and she were still there?
+
+He started to walk across the Common; and on the first bench, under
+a tree, he saw her sitting. She had a grey silk sunshade over her
+head--how could he ever have imagined her with a pink one? As he
+approached he was struck by her listless attitude: she sat there as
+if she had nothing else to do. He saw her drooping profile, and the
+knot of hair fastened low in the neck under her dark hat, and the long
+wrinkled glove on the hand that held the sunshade. He came a step or
 two nearer, and she turned and looked at him.
 
 "Oh"--she said; and for the first time he noticed a startled look on
@@ -7224,42 +7206,41 @@ at her; and without rising she made a place for him on the bench.
 
 "I'm here on business--just got here," Archer explained; and, without
 knowing why, he suddenly began to feign astonishment at seeing her.
-"But what on earth are you doing in this wilderness?"  He had really no
+"But what on earth are you doing in this wilderness?" He had really no
 idea what he was saying: he felt as if he were shouting at her across
 endless distances, and she might vanish again before he could overtake
 her.
 
-"I?  Oh, I'm here on business too," she answered, turning her head
-toward him so that they were face to face.  The words hardly reached
+"I? Oh, I'm here on business too," she answered, turning her head
+toward him so that they were face to face. The words hardly reached
 him: he was aware only of her voice, and of the startling fact that not
-an echo of it had remained in his memory.  He had not even remembered
+an echo of it had remained in his memory. He had not even remembered
 that it was low-pitched, with a faint roughness on the consonants.
 
 "You do your hair differently," he said, his heart beating as if he had
 uttered something irrevocable.
 
-"Differently?  No--it's only that I do it as best I can when I'm
-without Nastasia."
+"Differently? No--it's only that I do it as best I can when I'm without
+Nastasia."
 
 "Nastasia; but isn't she with you?"
 
-"No; I'm alone.  For two days it was not worth while to bring her."
+"No; I'm alone. For two days it was not worth while to bring her."
 
 "You're alone--at the Parker House?"
 
-She looked at him with a flash of her old malice.  "Does it strike you
+She looked at him with a flash of her old malice. "Does it strike you
 as dangerous?"
 
 "No; not dangerous--"
 
-"But unconventional?  I see; I suppose it is."  She considered a
-moment.  "I hadn't thought of it, because I've just done something so
-much more unconventional." The faint tinge of irony lingered in her
-eyes.  "I've just refused to take back a sum of money--that belonged to
-me."
+"But unconventional? I see; I suppose it is." She considered a moment.
+"I hadn't thought of it, because I've just done something so much more
+unconventional." The faint tinge of irony lingered in her eyes. "I've
+just refused to take back a sum of money--that belonged to me."
 
-Archer sprang up and moved a step or two away.  She had furled her
-parasol and sat absently drawing patterns on the gravel.  Presently he
+Archer sprang up and moved a step or two away. She had furled her
+parasol and sat absently drawing patterns on the gravel. Presently he
 came back and stood before her.
 
 "Some one--has come here to meet you?"
@@ -7274,24 +7255,24 @@ She nodded.
 
 "I refused," she said after a moment.
 
-He sat down by her again.  "What were the conditions?"
+He sat down by her again. "What were the conditions?"
 
 "Oh, they were not onerous: just to sit at the head of his table now
 and then."
 
-There was another interval of silence.  Archer's heart had slammed
+There was another interval of silence. Archer's heart had slammed
 itself shut in the queer way it had, and he sat vainly groping for a
 word.
 
 "He wants you back--at any price?"
 
-"Well--a considerable price.  At least the sum is considerable for me."
+"Well--a considerable price. At least the sum is considerable for me."
 
 He paused again, beating about the question he felt he must put.
 
 "It was to meet him here that you came?"
 
-She stared, and then burst into a laugh.  "Meet him--my husband?  HERE?
+She stared, and then burst into a laugh. "Meet him--my husband? _Here_?
 At this season he's always at Cowes or Baden."
 
 "He sent some one?"
@@ -7300,171 +7281,168 @@ At this season he's always at Cowes or Baden."
 
 "With a letter?"
 
-She shook her head.  "No; just a message.  He never writes.  I don't
-think I've had more than one letter from him."  The allusion brought
-the colour to her cheek, and it reflected itself in Archer's vivid
-blush.
+She shook her head. "No; just a message. He never writes. I don't think
+I've had more than one letter from him." The allusion brought the
+colour to her cheek, and it reflected itself in Archer's vivid blush.
 
 "Why does he never write?"
 
-"Why should he?  What does one have secretaries for?"
+"Why should he? What does one have secretaries for?"
 
-The young man's blush deepened.  She had pronounced the word as if it
-had no more significance than any other in her vocabulary.  For a
-moment it was on the tip of his tongue to ask:  "Did he send his
-secretary, then?"  But the remembrance of Count Olenski's only letter
-to his wife was too present to him.  He paused again, and then took
-another plunge.
+The young man's blush deepened. She had pronounced the word as if it
+had no more significance than any other in her vocabulary. For a moment
+it was on the tip of his tongue to ask: "Did he send his secretary,
+then?" But the remembrance of Count Olenski's only letter to his wife
+was too present to him. He paused again, and then took another plunge.
 
 "And the person?"--
 
-"The emissary?  The emissary," Madame Olenska rejoined, still smiling,
+"The emissary? The emissary," Madame Olenska rejoined, still smiling,
 "might, for all I care, have left already; but he has insisted on
 waiting till this evening ... in case ... on the chance ..."
 
 "And you came out here to think the chance over?"
 
-"I came out to get a breath of air.  The hotel's too stifling.  I'm
+"I came out to get a breath of air. The hotel's too stifling. I'm
 taking the afternoon train back to Portsmouth."
 
 They sat silent, not looking at each other, but straight ahead at the
-people passing along the path.  Finally she turned her eyes again to
-his face and said:  "You're not changed."
+people passing along the path. Finally she turned her eyes again to his
+face and said: "You're not changed."
 
-He felt like answering:  "I was, till I saw you again;" but instead he
+He felt like answering: "I was, till I saw you again;" but instead he
 stood up abruptly and glanced about him at the untidy sweltering park.
 
-"This is horrible.  Why shouldn't we go out a little on the bay?
-There's a breeze, and it will be cooler.  We might take the steamboat
-down to Point Arley."  She glanced up at him hesitatingly and he went
-on:  "On a Monday morning there won't be anybody on the boat.  My train
-doesn't leave till evening: I'm going back to New York.  Why shouldn't
-we?" he insisted, looking down at her; and suddenly he broke out:
-"Haven't we done all we could?"
+"This is horrible. Why shouldn't we go out a little on the bay? There's
+a breeze, and it will be cooler. We might take the steamboat down to
+Point Arley." She glanced up at him hesitatingly and he went on: "On
+a Monday morning there won't be anybody on the boat. My train doesn't
+leave till evening: I'm going back to New York. Why shouldn't we?" he
+insisted, looking down at her; and suddenly he broke out: "Haven't we
+done all we could?"
 
-"Oh"--she murmured again.  She stood up and reopened her sunshade,
+"Oh"--she murmured again. She stood up and reopened her sunshade,
 glancing about her as if to take counsel of the scene, and assure
-herself of the impossibility of remaining in it.  Then her eyes
-returned to his face.  "You mustn't say things like that to me," she
-said.
+herself of the impossibility of remaining in it. Then her eyes returned
+to his face. "You mustn't say things like that to me," she said.
 
-"I'll say anything you like; or nothing.  I won't open my mouth unless
-you tell me to.  What harm can it do to anybody?  All I want is to
-listen to you," he stammered.
+"I'll say anything you like; or nothing. I won't open my mouth unless
+you tell me to. What harm can it do to anybody? All I want is to listen
+to you," he stammered.
 
-She drew out a little gold-faced watch on an enamelled chain.  "Oh,
-don't calculate," he broke out; "give me the day!  I want to get you
-away from that man.  At what time was he coming?"
+She drew out a little gold-faced watch on an enamelled chain. "Oh,
+don't calculate," he broke out; "give me the day! I want to get you
+away from that man. At what time was he coming?"
 
-Her colour rose again.  "At eleven."
+Her colour rose again. "At eleven."
 
 "Then you must come at once."
 
 "You needn't be afraid--if I don't come."
 
-"Nor you either--if you do.  I swear I only want to hear about you, to
-know what you've been doing.  It's a hundred years since we've met--it
+"Nor you either--if you do. I swear I only want to hear about you, to
+know what you've been doing. It's a hundred years since we've met--it
 may be another hundred before we meet again."
 
-She still wavered, her anxious eyes on his face.  "Why didn't you come
+She still wavered, her anxious eyes on his face. "Why didn't you come
 down to the beach to fetch me, the day I was at Granny's?" she asked.
 
-"Because you didn't look round--because you didn't know I was there.  I
-swore I wouldn't unless you looked round."  He laughed as the
+"Because you didn't look round--because you didn't know I was there.
+I swore I wouldn't unless you looked round." He laughed as the
 childishness of the confession struck him.
 
 "But I didn't look round on purpose."
 
 "On purpose?"
 
-"I knew you were there; when you drove in I recognised the ponies.  So
-I went down to the beach."
+"I knew you were there; when you drove in I recognised the ponies. So I
+went down to the beach."
 
 "To get away from me as far as you could?"
 
-She repeated in a low voice:  "To get away from you as far as I could."
+She repeated in a low voice: "To get away from you as far as I could."
 
-He laughed out again, this time in boyish satisfaction.  "Well, you see
-it's no use.  I may as well tell you," he added, "that the business I
-came here for was just to find you.  But, look here, we must start or
-we shall miss our boat."
+He laughed out again, this time in boyish satisfaction. "Well, you see
+it's no use. I may as well tell you," he added, "that the business I
+came here for was just to find you. But, look here, we must start or we
+shall miss our boat."
 
-"Our boat?"  She frowned perplexedly, and then smiled.  "Oh, but I must
-go back to the hotel first:  I must leave a note--"
+"Our boat?" She frowned perplexedly, and then smiled. "Oh, but I must
+go back to the hotel first: I must leave a note--"
 
-"As many notes as you please.  You can write here." He drew out a
-note-case and one of the new stylographic pens.  "I've even got an
-envelope--you see how everything's predestined!  There--steady the
-thing on your knee, and I'll get the pen going in a second.  They have
-to be humoured; wait--"  He banged the hand that held the pen against
-the back of the bench.  "It's like jerking down the mercury in a
-thermometer: just a trick.  Now try--"
+"As many notes as you please. You can write here." He drew out a
+note-case and one of the new stylographic pens. "I've even got an
+envelope--you see how everything's predestined! There--steady the thing
+on your knee, and I'll get the pen going in a second. They have to be
+humoured; wait--" He banged the hand that held the pen against the back
+of the bench. "It's like jerking down the mercury in a thermometer:
+just a trick. Now try--"
 
 She laughed, and bending over the sheet of paper which he had laid on
-his note-case, began to write.  Archer walked away a few steps, staring
+his note-case, began to write. Archer walked away a few steps, staring
 with radiant unseeing eyes at the passersby, who, in their turn, paused
 to stare at the unwonted sight of a fashionably-dressed lady writing a
 note on her knee on a bench in the Common.
 
 Madame Olenska slipped the sheet into the envelope, wrote a name on it,
-and put it into her pocket.  Then she too stood up.
+and put it into her pocket. Then she too stood up.
 
 They walked back toward Beacon Street, and near the club Archer caught
 sight of the plush-lined "herdic" which had carried his note to the
 Parker House, and whose driver was reposing from this effort by bathing
 his brow at the corner hydrant.
 
-"I told you everything was predestined!  Here's a cab for us.  You
-see!"  They laughed, astonished at the miracle of picking up a public
+"I told you everything was predestined! Here's a cab for us. You
+see!" They laughed, astonished at the miracle of picking up a public
 conveyance at that hour, and in that unlikely spot, in a city where
 cab-stands were still a "foreign" novelty.
 
-Archer, looking at his watch, saw that there was time to drive to the
-Parker House before going to the steamboat landing.  They rattled
+Archer, looking at his watch, saw that there was time to drive to
+the Parker House before going to the steamboat landing. They rattled
 through the hot streets and drew up at the door of the hotel.
 
-Archer held out his hand for the letter.  "Shall I take it in?" he
+Archer held out his hand for the letter. "Shall I take it in?" he
 asked; but Madame Olenska, shaking her head, sprang out and disappeared
-through the glazed doors.  It was barely half-past ten; but what if the
+through the glazed doors. It was barely half-past ten; but what if the
 emissary, impatient for her reply, and not knowing how else to employ
 his time, were already seated among the travellers with cooling drinks
 at their elbows of whom Archer had caught a glimpse as she went in?
 
-He waited, pacing up and down before the herdic.  A Sicilian youth with
-eyes like Nastasia's offered to shine his boots, and an Irish matron to
-sell him peaches; and every few moments the doors opened to let out hot
-men with straw hats tilted far back, who glanced at him as they went
-by.  He marvelled that the door should open so often, and that all the
-people it let out should look so like each other, and so like all the
-other hot men who, at that hour, through the length and breadth of the
-land, were passing continuously in and out of the swinging doors of
+He waited, pacing up and down before the herdic. A Sicilian youth with
+eyes like Nastasia's offered to shine his boots, and an Irish matron
+to sell him peaches; and every few moments the doors opened to let out
+hot men with straw hats tilted far back, who glanced at him as they
+went by. He marvelled that the door should open so often, and that all
+the people it let out should look so like each other, and so like all
+the other hot men who, at that hour, through the length and breadth of
+the land, were passing continuously in and out of the swinging doors of
 hotels.
 
 And then, suddenly, came a face that he could not relate to the other
-faces.  He caught but a flash of it, for his pacings had carried him to
-the farthest point of his beat, and it was in turning back to the hotel
-that he saw, in a group of typical countenances--the lank and weary,
-the round and surprised, the lantern-jawed and mild--this other face
-that was so many more things at once, and things so different.  It was
-that of a young man, pale too, and half-extinguished by the heat, or
-worry, or both, but somehow, quicker, vivider, more conscious; or
-perhaps seeming so because he was so different.  Archer hung a moment
+faces. He caught but a flash of it, for his pacings had carried him
+to the farthest point of his beat, and it was in turning back to the
+hotel that he saw, in a group of typical countenances--the lank and
+weary, the round and surprised, the lantern-jawed and mild--this other
+face that was so many more things at once, and things so different. It
+was that of a young man, pale too, and half-extinguished by the heat,
+or worry, or both, but somehow, quicker, vivider, more conscious; or
+perhaps seeming so because he was so different. Archer hung a moment
 on a thin thread of memory, but it snapped and floated off with the
 disappearing face--apparently that of some foreign business man,
-looking doubly foreign in such a setting.  He vanished in the stream of
+looking doubly foreign in such a setting. He vanished in the stream of
 passersby, and Archer resumed his patrol.
 
 He did not care to be seen watch in hand within view of the hotel, and
 his unaided reckoning of the lapse of time led him to conclude that, if
 Madame Olenska was so long in reappearing, it could only be because she
-had met the emissary and been waylaid by him.  At the thought Archer's
+had met the emissary and been waylaid by him. At the thought Archer's
 apprehension rose to anguish.
 
 "If she doesn't come soon I'll go in and find her," he said.
 
-The doors swung open again and she was at his side.  They got into the
+The doors swung open again and she was at his side. They got into the
 herdic, and as it drove off he took out his watch and saw that she had
-been absent just three minutes.  In the clatter of loose windows that
+been absent just three minutes. In the clatter of loose windows that
 made talk impossible they bumped over the disjointed cobblestones to
 the wharf.
 
@@ -7476,12 +7454,12 @@ release and their isolation.
 
 As the paddle-wheels began to turn, and wharves and shipping to recede
 through the veil of heat, it seemed to Archer that everything in the
-old familiar world of habit was receding also.  He longed to ask Madame
+old familiar world of habit was receding also. He longed to ask Madame
 Olenska if she did not have the same feeling: the feeling that they
 were starting on some long voyage from which they might never return.
 But he was afraid to say it, or anything else that might disturb the
-delicate balance of her trust in him.  In reality he had no wish to
-betray that trust.  There had been days and nights when the memory of
+delicate balance of her trust in him. In reality he had no wish to
+betray that trust. There had been days and nights when the memory of
 their kiss had burned and burned on his lips; the day before even, on
 the drive to Portsmouth, the thought of her had run through him like
 fire; but now that she was beside him, and they were drifting forth
@@ -7490,48 +7468,50 @@ nearness that a touch may sunder.
 
 As the boat left the harbour and turned seaward a breeze stirred about
 them and the bay broke up into long oily undulations, then into ripples
-tipped with spray.  The fog of sultriness still hung over the city, but
+tipped with spray. The fog of sultriness still hung over the city, but
 ahead lay a fresh world of ruffled waters, and distant promontories
-with light-houses in the sun.  Madame Olenska, leaning back against the
-boat-rail, drank in the coolness between parted lips.  She had wound a
-long veil about her hat, but it left her face uncovered, and Archer was
-struck by the tranquil gaiety of her expression.  She seemed to take
-their adventure as a matter of course, and to be neither in fear of
-unexpected encounters, nor (what was worse) unduly elated by their
+with light-houses in the sun. Madame Olenska, leaning back against the
+boat-rail, drank in the coolness between parted lips. She had wound a
+long veil about her hat, but it left her face uncovered, and Archer
+was struck by the tranquil gaiety of her expression. She seemed to
+take their adventure as a matter of course, and to be neither in fear
+of unexpected encounters, nor (what was worse) unduly elated by their
 possibility.
 
-In the bare dining-room of the inn, which he had hoped they would have
-to themselves, they found a strident party of innocent-looking young
-men and women--school-teachers on a holiday, the landlord told
+In the bare dining-room of the inn, which he had hoped they would
+have to themselves, they found a strident party of innocent-looking
+young men and women--school-teachers on a holiday, the landlord told
 them--and Archer's heart sank at the idea of having to talk through
 their noise.
 
 "This is hopeless--I'll ask for a private room," he said; and Madame
-Olenska, without offering any objection, waited while he went in search
-of it.  The room opened on a long wooden verandah, with the sea coming
-in at the windows.  It was bare and cool, with a table covered with a
-coarse checkered cloth and adorned by a bottle of pickles and a
-blueberry pie under a cage.  No more guileless-looking cabinet
-particulier ever offered its shelter to a clandestine couple: Archer
+Olenska, without offering any objection, waited while he went in
+search of it. The room opened on a long wooden verandah, with the sea
+coming in at the windows. It was bare and cool, with a table covered
+with a coarse checkered cloth and adorned by a bottle of pickles
+and a blueberry pie under a cage. No more guileless-looking _cabinet
+particulier_ ever offered its shelter to a clandestine couple: Archer
 fancied he saw the sense of its reassurance in the faintly amused smile
-with which Madame Olenska sat down opposite to him.  A woman who had
-run away from her husband--and reputedly with another man--was likely
-to have mastered the art of taking things for granted; but something in
-the quality of her composure took the edge from his irony.  By being so
+with which Madame Olenska sat down opposite to him. A woman who had run
+away from her husband--and reputedly with another man--was likely to
+have mastered the art of taking things for granted; but something in
+the quality of her composure took the edge from his irony. By being so
 quiet, so unsurprised and so simple she had managed to brush away the
 conventions and make him feel that to seek to be alone was the natural
 thing for two old friends who had so much to say to each other....
 
 
 
+
 XXIV.
 
+
 They lunched slowly and meditatively, with mute intervals between
-rushes of talk; for, the spell once broken, they had much to say, and
-yet moments when saying became the mere accompaniment to long duologues
-of silence.  Archer kept the talk from his own affairs, not with
-conscious intention but because he did not want to miss a word of her
-history; and leaning on the table, her chin resting on her clasped
+rushes of talk; for, the spell once broken, they had much to say,
+and yet moments when saying became the mere accompaniment to long
+duologues of silence. Archer kept the talk from his own affairs, not
+with conscious intention but because he did not want to miss a word of
+her history; and leaning on the table, her chin resting on her clasped
 hands, she talked to him of the year and a half since they had met.
 
 She had grown tired of what people called "society"; New York was kind,
@@ -7545,43 +7525,42 @@ make a home there for poor Medora, who had worn out the patience of all
 her other relations just at the time when she most needed looking after
 and protecting from matrimonial perils.
 
-"But Dr. Carver--aren't you afraid of Dr. Carver?  I hear he's been
+"But Dr. Carver--aren't you afraid of Dr. Carver? I hear he's been
 staying with you at the Blenkers'."
 
-She smiled.  "Oh, the Carver danger is over.  Dr. Carver is a very
-clever man.  He wants a rich wife to finance his plans, and Medora is
-simply a good advertisement as a convert."
+She smiled. "Oh, the Carver danger is over. Dr. Carver is a very clever
+man. He wants a rich wife to finance his plans, and Medora is simply a
+good advertisement as a convert."
 
 "A convert to what?"
 
-"To all sorts of new and crazy social schemes.  But, do you know, they
+"To all sorts of new and crazy social schemes. But, do you know, they
 interest me more than the blind conformity to tradition--somebody
-else's tradition--that I see among our own friends.  It seems stupid to
-have discovered America only to make it into a copy of another
-country."  She smiled across the table.  "Do you suppose Christopher
+else's tradition--that I see among our own friends. It seems stupid
+to have discovered America only to make it into a copy of another
+country." She smiled across the table. "Do you suppose Christopher
 Columbus would have taken all that trouble just to go to the Opera with
 the Selfridge Merrys?"
 
-Archer changed colour.  "And Beaufort--do you say these things to
+Archer changed colour. "And Beaufort--do you say these things to
 Beaufort?" he asked abruptly.
 
-"I haven't seen him for a long time.  But I used to; and he
-understands."
+"I haven't seen him for a long time. But I used to; and he understands."
 
 "Ah, it's what I've always told you; you don't like us. And you like
 Beaufort because he's so unlike us." He looked about the bare room and
 out at the bare beach and the row of stark white village houses strung
-along the shore.  "We're damnably dull.  We've no character, no colour,
+along the shore. "We're damnably dull. We've no character, no colour,
 no variety.--I wonder," he broke out, "why you don't go back?"
 
-Her eyes darkened, and he expected an indignant rejoinder.  But she sat
+Her eyes darkened, and he expected an indignant rejoinder. But she sat
 silent, as if thinking over what he had said, and he grew frightened
 lest she should answer that she wondered too.
 
-At length she said:  "I believe it's because of you."
+At length she said: "I believe it's because of you."
 
-It was impossible to make the confession more dispassionately, or in a
-tone less encouraging to the vanity of the person addressed.  Archer
+It was impossible to make the confession more dispassionately, or in
+a tone less encouraging to the vanity of the person addressed. Archer
 reddened to the temples, but dared not move or speak: it was as if her
 words had been some rare butterfly that the least motion might drive
 off on startled wings, but that might gather a flock about it if it
@@ -7590,7 +7569,7 @@ were left undisturbed.
 "At least," she continued, "it was you who made me understand that
 under the dullness there are things so fine and sensitive and delicate
 that even those I most cared for in my other life look cheap in
-comparison.  I don't know how to explain myself"--she drew together her
+comparison. I don't know how to explain myself"--she drew together her
 troubled brows--"but it seems as if I'd never before understood with
 how much that is hard and shabby and base the most exquisite pleasures
 may be paid."
@@ -7599,24 +7578,24 @@ may be paid."
 retorting; but the appeal in her eyes kept him silent.
 
 "I want," she went on, "to be perfectly honest with you--and with
-myself.  For a long time I've hoped this chance would come: that I
-might tell you how you've helped me, what you've made of me--"
+myself. For a long time I've hoped this chance would come: that I might
+tell you how you've helped me, what you've made of me--"
 
-Archer sat staring beneath frowning brows.  He interrupted her with a
-laugh.  "And what do you make out that you've made of me?"
+Archer sat staring beneath frowning brows. He interrupted her with a
+laugh. "And what do you make out that you've made of me?"
 
-She paled a little.  "Of you?"
+She paled a little. "Of you?"
 
-"Yes: for I'm of your making much more than you ever were of mine.  I'm
+"Yes: for I'm of your making much more than you ever were of mine. I'm
 the man who married one woman because another one told him to."
 
-Her paleness turned to a fugitive flush.  "I thought--you promised--you
+Her paleness turned to a fugitive flush. "I thought--you promised--you
 were not to say such things today."
 
-"Ah--how like a woman!  None of you will ever see a bad business
+"Ah--how like a woman! None of you will ever see a bad business
 through!"
 
-She lowered her voice.  "IS it a bad business--for May?"
+She lowered her voice. "_is_ it a bad business--for May?"
 
 He stood in the window, drumming against the raised sash, and feeling
 in every fibre the wistful tenderness with which she had spoken her
@@ -7628,23 +7607,23 @@ own showing?" she insisted.
 "My own showing?" he echoed, his blank eyes still on the sea.
 
 "Or if not," she continued, pursuing her own thought with a painful
-application, "if it's not worth while to have given up, to have missed
-things, so that others may be saved from disillusionment and
+application, "if it's not worth while to have given up, to have
+missed things, so that others may be saved from disillusionment and
 misery--then everything I came home for, everything that made my other
 life seem by contrast so bare and so poor because no one there took
 account of them--all these things are a sham or a dream--"
 
-He turned around without moving from his place.  "And in that case
+He turned around without moving from his place. "And in that case
 there's no reason on earth why you shouldn't go back?" he concluded for
 her.
 
-Her eyes were clinging to him desperately.  "Oh, IS there no reason?"
+Her eyes were clinging to him desperately. "Oh, _is_ there no reason?"
 
-"Not if you staked your all on the success of my marriage.  My
+"Not if you staked your all on the success of my marriage. My
 marriage," he said savagely, "isn't going to be a sight to keep you
-here."  She made no answer, and he went on:  "What's the use?  You gave
-me my first glimpse of a real life, and at the same moment you asked me
-to go on with a sham one.  It's beyond human enduring--that's all."
+here." She made no answer, and he went on: "What's the use? You gave me
+my first glimpse of a real life, and at the same moment you asked me to
+go on with a sham one. It's beyond human enduring--that's all."
 
 "Oh, don't say that; when I'm enduring it!" she burst out, her eyes
 filling.
@@ -7661,39 +7640,39 @@ For answer, she let the tears on her lids overflow and run slowly
 downward.
 
 Half the width of the room was still between them, and neither made any
-show of moving.  Archer was conscious of a curious indifference to her
+show of moving. Archer was conscious of a curious indifference to her
 bodily presence: he would hardly have been aware of it if one of the
 hands she had flung out on the table had not drawn his gaze as on the
-occasion when, in the little Twenty-third Street house, he had kept his
-eye on it in order not to look at her face.  Now his imagination spun
-about the hand as about the edge of a vortex; but still he made no
-effort to draw nearer.  He had known the love that is fed on caresses
+occasion when, in the little Twenty-third Street house, he had kept
+his eye on it in order not to look at her face. Now his imagination
+spun about the hand as about the edge of a vortex; but still he made no
+effort to draw nearer. He had known the love that is fed on caresses
 and feeds them; but this passion that was closer than his bones was not
-to be superficially satisfied.  His one terror was to do anything which
+to be superficially satisfied. His one terror was to do anything which
 might efface the sound and impression of her words; his one thought,
 that he should never again feel quite alone.
 
-But after a moment the sense of waste and ruin overcame him.  There
-they were, close together and safe and shut in; yet so chained to their
+But after a moment the sense of waste and ruin overcame him. There they
+were, close together and safe and shut in; yet so chained to their
 separate destinies that they might as well have been half the world
 apart.
 
 "What's the use--when you will go back?" he broke out, a great hopeless
-HOW ON EARTH CAN I KEEP YOU?  crying out to her beneath his words.
+_How on earth can I keep you?_ crying out to her beneath his words.
 
-She sat motionless, with lowered lids.  "Oh--I shan't go yet!"
+She sat motionless, with lowered lids. "Oh--I shan't go yet!"
 
-"Not yet?  Some time, then?  Some time that you already foresee?"
+"Not yet? Some time, then? Some time that you already foresee?"
 
-At that she raised her clearest eyes.  "I promise you: not as long as
-you hold out.  Not as long as we can look straight at each other like
+At that she raised her clearest eyes. "I promise you: not as long as
+you hold out. Not as long as we can look straight at each other like
 this."
 
-He dropped into his chair.  What her answer really said was:  "If you
-lift a finger you'll drive me back: back to all the abominations you
-know of, and all the temptations you half guess."  He understood it as
-clearly as if she had uttered the words, and the thought kept him
-anchored to his side of the table in a kind of moved and sacred
+He dropped into his chair. What her answer really said was: "If you
+lift a finger you'll drive me back: back to all the abominations
+you know of, and all the temptations you half guess." He understood
+it as clearly as if she had uttered the words, and the thought kept
+him anchored to his side of the table in a kind of moved and sacred
 submission.
 
 "What a life for you!--" he groaned.
@@ -7706,24 +7685,24 @@ She nodded.
 
 "And that's to be all--for either of us?"
 
-"Well; it IS all, isn't it?"
+"Well; it _is_ all, isn't it?"
 
 At that he sprang up, forgetting everything but the sweetness of her
-face.  She rose too, not as if to meet him or to flee from him, but
-quietly, as though the worst of the task were done and she had only to
-wait; so quietly that, as he came close, her outstretched hands acted
-not as a check but as a guide to him.  They fell into his, while her
-arms, extended but not rigid, kept him far enough off to let her
+face. She rose too, not as if to meet him or to flee from him, but
+quietly, as though the worst of the task were done and she had only
+to wait; so quietly that, as he came close, her outstretched hands
+acted not as a check but as a guide to him. They fell into his, while
+her arms, extended but not rigid, kept him far enough off to let her
 surrendered face say the rest.
 
 They may have stood in that way for a long time, or only for a few
 moments; but it was long enough for her silence to communicate all she
-had to say, and for him to feel that only one thing mattered.  He must
+had to say, and for him to feel that only one thing mattered. He must
 do nothing to make this meeting their last; he must leave their future
 in her care, asking only that she should keep fast hold of it.
 
 "Don't--don't be unhappy," she said, with a break in her voice, as she
-drew her hands away; and he answered:  "You won't go back--you won't go
+drew her hands away; and he answered: "You won't go back--you won't go
 back?" as if it were the one possibility he could not bear.
 
 "I won't go back," she said; and turning away she opened the door and
@@ -7736,65 +7715,67 @@ loomed in a line of haze.
 
 
 
+
 XXV.
 
+
 Once more on the boat, and in the presence of others, Archer felt a
 tranquillity of spirit that surprised as much as it sustained him.
 
 The day, according to any current valuation, had been a rather
 ridiculous failure; he had not so much as touched Madame Olenska's hand
 with his lips, or extracted one word from her that gave promise of
-farther opportunities.  Nevertheless, for a man sick with unsatisfied
+farther opportunities. Nevertheless, for a man sick with unsatisfied
 love, and parting for an indefinite period from the object of his
-passion, he felt himself almost humiliatingly calm and comforted.  It
-was the perfect balance she had held between their loyalty to others
-and their honesty to themselves that had so stirred and yet
-tranquillized him; a balance not artfully calculated, as her tears and
-her falterings showed, but resulting naturally from her unabashed
-sincerity.  It filled him with a tender awe, now the danger was over,
+passion, he felt himself almost humiliatingly calm and comforted.
+It was the perfect balance she had held between their loyalty to
+others and their honesty to themselves that had so stirred and yet
+tranquillized him; a balance not artfully calculated, as her tears
+and her falterings showed, but resulting naturally from her unabashed
+sincerity. It filled him with a tender awe, now the danger was over,
 and made him thank the fates that no personal vanity, no sense of
 playing a part before sophisticated witnesses, had tempted him to tempt
-her.  Even after they had clasped hands for good-bye at the Fall River
+her. Even after they had clasped hands for good-bye at the Fall River
 station, and he had turned away alone, the conviction remained with him
 of having saved out of their meeting much more than he had sacrificed.
 
 He wandered back to the club, and went and sat alone in the deserted
 library, turning and turning over in his thoughts every separate second
-of their hours together.  It was clear to him, and it grew more clear
+of their hours together. It was clear to him, and it grew more clear
 under closer scrutiny, that if she should finally decide on returning
 to Europe--returning to her husband--it would not be because her old
-life tempted her, even on the new terms offered.  No: she would go only
+life tempted her, even on the new terms offered. No: she would go only
 if she felt herself becoming a temptation to Archer, a temptation to
-fall away from the standard they had both set up.  Her choice would be
+fall away from the standard they had both set up. Her choice would be
 to stay near him as long as he did not ask her to come nearer; and it
 depended on himself to keep her just there, safe but secluded.
 
-In the train these thoughts were still with him.  They enclosed him in
-a kind of golden haze, through which the faces about him looked remote
-and indistinct: he had a feeling that if he spoke to his
-fellow-travellers they would not understand what he was saying.  In
-this state of abstraction he found himself, the following morning,
-waking to the reality of a stifling September day in New York.  The
-heat-withered faces in the long train streamed past him, and he
-continued to stare at them through the same golden blur; but suddenly,
-as he left the station, one of the faces detached itself, came closer
-and forced itself upon his consciousness.  It was, as he instantly
-recalled, the face of the young man he had seen, the day before,
-passing out of the Parker House, and had noted as not conforming to
-type, as not having an American hotel face.
+In the train these thoughts were still with him. They enclosed him
+in a kind of golden haze, through which the faces about him looked
+remote and indistinct: he had a feeling that if he spoke to his
+fellow-travellers they would not understand what he was saying. In this
+state of abstraction he found himself, the following morning, waking to
+the reality of a stifling September day in New York. The heat-withered
+faces in the long train streamed past him, and he continued to stare
+at them through the same golden blur; but suddenly, as he left the
+station, one of the faces detached itself, came closer and forced
+itself upon his consciousness. It was, as he instantly recalled, the
+face of the young man he had seen, the day before, passing out of the
+Parker House, and had noted as not conforming to type, as not having an
+American hotel face.
 
 The same thing struck him now; and again he became aware of a dim stir
-of former associations.  The young man stood looking about him with the
+of former associations. The young man stood looking about him with the
 dazed air of the foreigner flung upon the harsh mercies of American
 travel; then he advanced toward Archer, lifted his hat, and said in
-English:  "Surely, Monsieur, we met in London?"
+English: "Surely, Monsieur, we met in London?"
 
-"Ah, to be sure: in London!"  Archer grasped his hand with curiosity
-and sympathy.  "So you DID get here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting
+"Ah, to be sure: in London!" Archer grasped his hand with curiosity
+and sympathy. "So you _did_ get here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting
 a wondering eye on the astute and haggard little countenance of young
 Carfry's French tutor.
 
-"Oh, I got here--yes," M. Riviere smiled with drawn lips.  "But not for
+"Oh, I got here--yes," M. Rivière smiled with drawn lips. "But not for
 long; I return the day after tomorrow." He stood grasping his light
 valise in one neatly gloved hand, and gazing anxiously, perplexedly,
 almost appealingly, into Archer's face.
@@ -7802,16 +7783,16 @@ almost appealingly, into Archer's face.
 "I wonder, Monsieur, since I've had the good luck to run across you, if
 I might--"
 
-"I was just going to suggest it: come to luncheon, won't you?  Down
+"I was just going to suggest it: come to luncheon, won't you? Down
 town, I mean: if you'll look me up in my office I'll take you to a very
 decent restaurant in that quarter."
 
-M. Riviere was visibly touched and surprised.  "You're too kind.  But I
+M. Rivière was visibly touched and surprised. "You're too kind. But I
 was only going to ask if you would tell me how to reach some sort of
-conveyance.  There are no porters, and no one here seems to listen--"
+conveyance. There are no porters, and no one here seems to listen--"
 
-"I know: our American stations must surprise you.  When you ask for a
-porter they give you chewing-gum.  But if you'll come along I'll
+"I know: our American stations must surprise you. When you ask for
+a porter they give you chewing-gum. But if you'll come along I'll
 extricate you; and you must really lunch with me, you know."
 
 The young man, after a just perceptible hesitation, replied, with
@@ -7821,11 +7802,11 @@ reassurance of the street he asked if he might call that afternoon.
 
 Archer, at ease in the midsummer leisure of the office, fixed an hour
 and scribbled his address, which the Frenchman pocketed with reiterated
-thanks and a wide flourish of his hat.  A horse-car received him, and
+thanks and a wide flourish of his hat. A horse-car received him, and
 Archer walked away.
 
-Punctually at the hour M. Riviere appeared, shaved, smoothed-out, but
-still unmistakably drawn and serious.  Archer was alone in his office,
+Punctually at the hour M. Rivière appeared, shaved, smoothed-out, but
+still unmistakably drawn and serious. Archer was alone in his office,
 and the young man, before accepting the seat he proffered, began
 abruptly: "I believe I saw you, sir, yesterday in Boston."
 
@@ -7833,33 +7814,33 @@ The statement was insignificant enough, and Archer was about to frame
 an assent when his words were checked by something mysterious yet
 illuminating in his visitor's insistent gaze.
 
-"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Riviere continued, "that
+"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Rivière continued, "that
 we should have met in the circumstances in which I find myself."
 
 "What circumstances?" Archer asked, wondering a little crudely if he
 needed money.
 
-M. Riviere continued to study him with tentative eyes.  "I have come,
+M. Rivière continued to study him with tentative eyes. "I have come,
 not to look for employment, as I spoke of doing when we last met, but
 on a special mission--"
 
-"Ah--!" Archer exclaimed.  In a flash the two meetings had connected
-themselves in his mind.  He paused to take in the situation thus
-suddenly lighted up for him, and M. Riviere also remained silent, as if
+"Ah--!" Archer exclaimed. In a flash the two meetings had connected
+themselves in his mind. He paused to take in the situation thus
+suddenly lighted up for him, and M. Rivière also remained silent, as if
 aware that what he had said was enough.
 
 "A special mission," Archer at length repeated.
 
 The young Frenchman, opening his palms, raised them slightly, and the
 two men continued to look at each other across the office-desk till
-Archer roused himself to say:  "Do sit down"; whereupon M. Riviere
+Archer roused himself to say: "Do sit down"; whereupon M. Rivière
 bowed, took a distant chair, and again waited.
 
 "It was about this mission that you wanted to consult me?" Archer
 finally asked.
 
-M. Riviere bent his head.  "Not in my own behalf: on that score I--I
-have fully dealt with myself.  I should like--if I may--to speak to you
+M. Rivière bent his head. "Not in my own behalf: on that score I--I
+have fully dealt with myself. I should like--if I may--to speak to you
 about the Countess Olenska."
 
 Archer had known for the last few minutes that the words were coming;
@@ -7868,36 +7849,36 @@ had been caught by a bent-back branch in a thicket.
 
 "And on whose behalf," he said, "do you wish to do this?"
 
-M. Riviere met the question sturdily.  "Well--I might say HERS, if it
-did not sound like a liberty.  Shall I say instead: on behalf of
+M. Rivière met the question sturdily. "Well--I might say _hers_, if
+it did not sound like a liberty. Shall I say instead: on behalf of
 abstract justice?"
 
-Archer considered him ironically.  "In other words: you are Count
+Archer considered him ironically. "In other words: you are Count
 Olenski's messenger?"
 
-He saw his blush more darkly reflected in M. Riviere's sallow
-countenance.  "Not to YOU, Monsieur.  If I come to you, it is on quite
+He saw his blush more darkly reflected in M. Rivière's sallow
+countenance. "Not to _you_, Monsieur. If I come to you, it is on quite
 other grounds."
 
-"What right have you, in the circumstances, to BE on any other ground?"
-Archer retorted.  "If you're an emissary you're an emissary."
+"What right have you, in the circumstances, to _be_ on any other ground?"
+Archer retorted. "If you're an emissary you're an emissary."
 
-The young man considered.  "My mission is over: as far as the Countess
+The young man considered. "My mission is over: as far as the Countess
 Olenska goes, it has failed."
 
 "I can't help that," Archer rejoined on the same note of irony.
 
-"No: but you can help--"  M. Riviere paused, turned his hat about in
+"No: but you can help--" M. Rivière paused, turned his hat about in
 his still carefully gloved hands, looked into its lining and then back
-at Archer's face.  "You can help, Monsieur, I am convinced, to make it
+at Archer's face. "You can help, Monsieur, I am convinced, to make it
 equally a failure with her family."
 
-Archer pushed back his chair and stood up.  "Well--and by God I will!"
-he exclaimed.  He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down
+Archer pushed back his chair and stood up. "Well--and by God I will!"
+he exclaimed. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down
 wrathfully at the little Frenchman, whose face, though he too had
 risen, was still an inch or two below the line of Archer's eyes.
 
-M. Riviere paled to his normal hue: paler than that his complexion
+M. Rivière paled to his normal hue: paler than that his complexion
 could hardly turn.
 
 "Why the devil," Archer explosively continued, "should you have
@@ -7905,36 +7886,36 @@ thought--since I suppose you're appealing to me on the ground of my
 relationship to Madame Olenska--that I should take a view contrary to
 the rest of her family?"
 
-The change of expression in M. Riviere's face was for a time his only
-answer.  His look passed from timidity to absolute distress: for a
-young man of his usually resourceful mien it would have been difficult
-to appear more disarmed and defenceless.  "Oh, Monsieur--"
+The change of expression in M. Rivière's face was for a time his only
+answer. His look passed from timidity to absolute distress: for a young
+man of his usually resourceful mien it would have been difficult to
+appear more disarmed and defenceless. "Oh, Monsieur--"
 
 "I can't imagine," Archer continued, "why you should have come to me
 when there are others so much nearer to the Countess; still less why
 you thought I should be more accessible to the arguments I suppose you
 were sent over with."
 
-M. Riviere took this onslaught with a disconcerting humility.  "The
+M. Rivière took this onslaught with a disconcerting humility. "The
 arguments I want to present to you, Monsieur, are my own and not those
 I was sent over with."
 
 "Then I see still less reason for listening to them."
 
-M. Riviere again looked into his hat, as if considering whether these
+M. Rivière again looked into his hat, as if considering whether these
 last words were not a sufficiently broad hint to put it on and be gone.
-Then he spoke with sudden decision.  "Monsieur--will you tell me one
-thing?  Is it my right to be here that you question?  Or do you perhaps
+Then he spoke with sudden decision. "Monsieur--will you tell me one
+thing? Is it my right to be here that you question? Or do you perhaps
 believe the whole matter to be already closed?"
 
 His quiet insistence made Archer feel the clumsiness of his own
-bluster.  M. Riviere had succeeded in imposing himself:  Archer,
+bluster. M. Rivière had succeeded in imposing himself: Archer,
 reddening slightly, dropped into his chair again, and signed to the
 young man to be seated.
 
 "I beg your pardon: but why isn't the matter closed?"
 
-M. Riviere gazed back at him with anguish.  "You do, then, agree with
+M. Rivière gazed back at him with anguish. "You do, then, agree with
 the rest of the family that, in face of the new proposals I have
 brought, it is hardly possible for Madame Olenska not to return to her
 husband?"
@@ -7943,35 +7924,35 @@ husband?"
 confirmation.
 
 "Before seeing her, I saw--at Count Olenski's request--Mr. Lovell
-Mingott, with whom I had several talks before going to Boston.  I
+Mingott, with whom I had several talks before going to Boston. I
 understand that he represents his mother's view; and that Mrs. Manson
 Mingott's influence is great throughout her family."
 
 Archer sat silent, with the sense of clinging to the edge of a sliding
-precipice.  The discovery that he had been excluded from a share in
+precipice. The discovery that he had been excluded from a share in
 these negotiations, and even from the knowledge that they were on foot,
 caused him a surprise hardly dulled by the acuter wonder of what he was
-learning.  He saw in a flash that if the family had ceased to consult
+learning. He saw in a flash that if the family had ceased to consult
 him it was because some deep tribal instinct warned them that he was no
-longer on their side; and he recalled, with a start of comprehension, a
-remark of May's during their drive home from Mrs. Manson Mingott's on
-the day of the Archery Meeting:  "Perhaps, after all, Ellen would be
+longer on their side; and he recalled, with a start of comprehension,
+a remark of May's during their drive home from Mrs. Manson Mingott's
+on the day of the Archery Meeting: "Perhaps, after all, Ellen would be
 happier with her husband."
 
 Even in the tumult of new discoveries Archer remembered his indignant
 exclamation, and the fact that since then his wife had never named
-Madame Olenska to him.  Her careless allusion had no doubt been the
+Madame Olenska to him. Her careless allusion had no doubt been the
 straw held up to see which way the wind blew; the result had been
 reported to the family, and thereafter Archer had been tacitly omitted
-from their counsels.  He admired the tribal discipline which made May
-bow to this decision.  She would not have done so, he knew, had her
-conscience protested; but she probably shared the family view that
-Madame Olenska would be better off as an unhappy wife than as a
+from their counsels. He admired the tribal discipline which made
+May bow to this decision. She would not have done so, he knew, had
+her conscience protested; but she probably shared the family view
+that Madame Olenska would be better off as an unhappy wife than as a
 separated one, and that there was no use in discussing the case with
 Newland, who had an awkward way of suddenly not seeming to take the
 most fundamental things for granted.
 
-Archer looked up and met his visitor's anxious gaze.  "Don't you know,
+Archer looked up and met his visitor's anxious gaze. "Don't you know,
 Monsieur--is it possible you don't know--that the family begin to doubt
 if they have the right to advise the Countess to refuse her husband's
 last proposals?"
@@ -7981,26 +7962,26 @@ last proposals?"
 "The proposals I brought."
 
 It was on Archer's lips to exclaim that whatever he knew or did not
-know was no concern of M. Riviere's; but something in the humble and
-yet courageous tenacity of M. Riviere's gaze made him reject this
-conclusion, and he met the young man's question with another.  "What is
+know was no concern of M. Rivière's; but something in the humble and
+yet courageous tenacity of M. Rivière's gaze made him reject this
+conclusion, and he met the young man's question with another. "What is
 your object in speaking to me of this?"
 
-He had not to wait a moment for the answer.  "To beg you, Monsieur--to
+He had not to wait a moment for the answer. "To beg you, Monsieur--to
 beg you with all the force I'm capable of--not to let her go back.--Oh,
-don't let her!" M. Riviere exclaimed.
+don't let her!" M. Rivière exclaimed.
 
-Archer looked at him with increasing astonishment.  There was no
+Archer looked at him with increasing astonishment. There was no
 mistaking the sincerity of his distress or the strength of his
 determination: he had evidently resolved to let everything go by the
-board but the supreme need of thus putting himself on record.  Archer
+board but the supreme need of thus putting himself on record. Archer
 considered.
 
 "May I ask," he said at length, "if this is the line you took with the
 Countess Olenska?"
 
-M. Riviere reddened, but his eyes did not falter.  "No, Monsieur: I
-accepted my mission in good faith.  I really believed--for reasons I
+M. Rivière reddened, but his eyes did not falter. "No, Monsieur: I
+accepted my mission in good faith. I really believed--for reasons I
 need not trouble you with--that it would be better for Madame Olenska
 to recover her situation, her fortune, the social consideration that
 her husband's standing gives her."
@@ -8010,7 +7991,7 @@ otherwise."
 
 "I should not have accepted it."
 
-"Well, then--?"  Archer paused again, and their eyes met in another
+"Well, then--?" Archer paused again, and their eyes met in another
 protracted scrutiny.
 
 "Ah, Monsieur, after I had seen her, after I had listened to her, I
@@ -8022,139 +8003,141 @@ knew she was better off here."
 arguments, I stated his offers, without adding any comment of my own.
 The Countess was good enough to listen patiently; she carried her
 goodness so far as to see me twice; she considered impartially all I
-had come to say.  And it was in the course of these two talks that I
+had come to say. And it was in the course of these two talks that I
 changed my mind, that I came to see things differently."
 
 "May I ask what led to this change?"
 
-"Simply seeing the change in HER," M. Riviere replied.
+"Simply seeing the change in _her_," M. Rivière replied.
 
-"The change in her?  Then you knew her before?"
+"The change in her? Then you knew her before?"
 
-The young man's colour again rose.  "I used to see her in her husband's
-house.  I have known Count Olenski for many years.  You can imagine
-that he would not have sent a stranger on such a mission."
+The young man's colour again rose. "I used to see her in her husband's
+house. I have known Count Olenski for many years. You can imagine that
+he would not have sent a stranger on such a mission."
 
-Archer's gaze, wandering away to the blank walls of the office, rested
-on a hanging calendar surmounted by the rugged features of the
-President of the United States.  That such a conversation should be
+Archer's gaze, wandering away to the blank walls of the office,
+rested on a hanging calendar surmounted by the rugged features of the
+President of the United States. That such a conversation should be
 going on anywhere within the millions of square miles subject to his
 rule seemed as strange as anything that the imagination could invent.
 
 "The change--what sort of a change?"
 
-"Ah, Monsieur, if I could tell you!"  M. Riviere paused.  "Tenez--the
+"Ah, Monsieur, if I could tell you!" M. Rivière paused. "_Tenez_--the
 discovery, I suppose, of what I'd never thought of before: that she's
-an American.  And that if you're an American of HER kind--of your
+an American. And that if you're an American of _her_ kind--of your
 kind--things that are accepted in certain other societies, or at least
 put up with as part of a general convenient give-and-take--become
-unthinkable, simply unthinkable.  If Madame Olenska's relations
+unthinkable, simply unthinkable. If Madame Olenska's relations
 understood what these things were, their opposition to her returning
 would no doubt be as unconditional as her own; but they seem to regard
 her husband's wish to have her back as proof of an irresistible longing
-for domestic life."  M. Riviere paused, and then added:  "Whereas it's
+for domestic life." M. Rivière paused, and then added: "Whereas it's
 far from being as simple as that."
 
-Archer looked back to the President of the United States, and then down
-at his desk and at the papers scattered on it.  For a second or two he
-could not trust himself to speak.  During this interval he heard M.
-Riviere's chair pushed back, and was aware that the young man had
-risen.  When he glanced up again he saw that his visitor was as moved
-as himself.
+Archer looked back to the President of the United States, and then
+down at his desk and at the papers scattered on it. For a second or
+two he could not trust himself to speak. During this interval he heard
+M. Rivière's chair pushed back, and was aware that the young man had
+risen. When he glanced up again he saw that his visitor was as moved as
+himself.
 
 "Thank you," Archer said simply.
 
-"There's nothing to thank me for, Monsieur: it is I, rather--"  M.
-Riviere broke off, as if speech for him too were difficult.  "I should
-like, though," he continued in a firmer voice, "to add one thing.  You
-asked me if I was in Count Olenski's employ.  I am at this moment: I
+"There's nothing to thank me for, Monsieur: it is I, rather--" M.
+Rivière broke off, as if speech for him too were difficult. "I should
+like, though," he continued in a firmer voice, "to add one thing. You
+asked me if I was in Count Olenski's employ. I am at this moment: I
 returned to him, a few months ago, for reasons of private necessity
 such as may happen to any one who has persons, ill and older persons,
-dependent on him.  But from the moment that I have taken the step of
+dependent on him. But from the moment that I have taken the step of
 coming here to say these things to you I consider myself discharged,
-and I shall tell him so on my return, and give him the reasons.  That's
+and I shall tell him so on my return, and give him the reasons. That's
 all, Monsieur."
 
-M. Riviere bowed and drew back a step.
+M. Rivière bowed and drew back a step.
 
 "Thank you," Archer said again, as their hands met.
 
 
 
+
 XXVI.
 
+
 Every year on the fifteenth of October Fifth Avenue opened its
 shutters, unrolled its carpets and hung up its triple layer of
 window-curtains.
 
 By the first of November this household ritual was over, and society
-had begun to look about and take stock of itself.  By the fifteenth the
-season was in full blast, Opera and theatres were putting forth their
-new attractions, dinner-engagements were accumulating, and dates for
-dances being fixed.  And punctually at about this time Mrs. Archer
+had begun to look about and take stock of itself. By the fifteenth
+the season was in full blast, Opera and theatres were putting forth
+their new attractions, dinner-engagements were accumulating, and dates
+for dances being fixed. And punctually at about this time Mrs. Archer
 always said that New York was very much changed.
 
 Observing it from the lofty stand-point of a non-participant, she was
 able, with the help of Mr. Sillerton Jackson and Miss Sophy, to trace
 each new crack in its surface, and all the strange weeds pushing up
-between the ordered rows of social vegetables.  It had been one of the
-amusements of Archer's youth to wait for this annual pronouncement of
-his mother's, and to hear her enumerate the minute signs of
-disintegration that his careless gaze had overlooked.  For New York, to
+between the ordered rows of social vegetables. It had been one of the
+amusements of Archer's youth to wait for this annual pronouncement
+of his mother's, and to hear her enumerate the minute signs of
+disintegration that his careless gaze had overlooked. For New York, to
 Mrs. Archer's mind, never changed without changing for the worse; and
 in this view Miss Sophy Jackson heartily concurred.
 
 Mr. Sillerton Jackson, as became a man of the world, suspended his
 judgment and listened with an amused impartiality to the lamentations
-of the ladies.  But even he never denied that New York had changed; and
+of the ladies. But even he never denied that New York had changed; and
 Newland Archer, in the winter of the second year of his marriage, was
 himself obliged to admit that if it had not actually changed it was
 certainly changing.
 
 These points had been raised, as usual, at Mrs. Archer's Thanksgiving
-dinner.  At the date when she was officially enjoined to give thanks
-for the blessings of the year it was her habit to take a mournful
-though not embittered stock of her world, and wonder what there was to
-be thankful for.  At any rate, not the state of society; society, if it
+dinner. At the date when she was officially enjoined to give thanks for
+the blessings of the year it was her habit to take a mournful though
+not embittered stock of her world, and wonder what there was to be
+thankful for. At any rate, not the state of society; society, if it
 could be said to exist, was rather a spectacle on which to call down
 Biblical imprecations--and in fact, every one knew what the Reverend
-Dr. Ashmore meant when he chose a text from Jeremiah (chap. ii., verse
-25) for his Thanksgiving sermon.  Dr. Ashmore, the new Rector of St.
-Matthew's, had been chosen because he was very "advanced": his sermons
-were considered bold in thought and novel in language.  When he
+Dr. Ashmore meant when he chose a text from Jeremiah (chap. ii.,
+verse 25) for his Thanksgiving sermon. Dr. Ashmore, the new Rector of
+St. Matthew's, had been chosen because he was very "advanced": his
+sermons were considered bold in thought and novel in language. When he
 fulminated against fashionable society he always spoke of its "trend";
 and to Mrs. Archer it was terrifying and yet fascinating to feel
 herself part of a community that was trending.
 
-"There's no doubt that Dr. Ashmore is right: there IS a marked trend,"
+"There's no doubt that Dr. Ashmore is right: there _is_ a marked trend,"
 she said, as if it were something visible and measurable, like a crack
 in a house.
 
 "It was odd, though, to preach about it on Thanksgiving," Miss Jackson
-opined; and her hostess drily rejoined:  "Oh, he means us to give
-thanks for what's left."
+opined; and her hostess drily rejoined: "Oh, he means us to give thanks
+for what's left."
 
 Archer had been wont to smile at these annual vaticinations of his
 mother's; but this year even he was obliged to acknowledge, as he
 listened to an enumeration of the changes, that the "trend" was visible.
 
-"The extravagance in dress--" Miss Jackson began.  "Sillerton took me
-to the first night of the Opera, and I can only tell you that Jane
-Merry's dress was the only one I recognised from last year; and even
-that had had the front panel changed.  Yet I know she got it out from
-Worth only two years ago, because my seamstress always goes in to make
-over her Paris dresses before she wears them."
+"The extravagance in dress--" Miss Jackson began. "Sillerton took me to
+the first night of the Opera, and I can only tell you that Jane Merry's
+dress was the only one I recognised from last year; and even that had
+had the front panel changed. Yet I know she got it out from Worth only
+two years ago, because my seamstress always goes in to make over her
+Paris dresses before she wears them."
 
-"Ah, Jane Merry is one of US," said Mrs. Archer sighing, as if it were
+"Ah, Jane Merry is one of _us_," said Mrs. Archer sighing, as if it were
 not such an enviable thing to be in an age when ladies were beginning
 to flaunt abroad their Paris dresses as soon as they were out of the
 Custom House, instead of letting them mellow under lock and key, in the
 manner of Mrs. Archer's contemporaries.
 
-"Yes; she's one of the few.  In my youth," Miss Jackson rejoined, "it
-was considered vulgar to dress in the newest fashions; and Amy
+"Yes; she's one of the few. In my youth," Miss Jackson rejoined,
+"it was considered vulgar to dress in the newest fashions; and Amy
 Sillerton has always told me that in Boston the rule was to put away
-one's Paris dresses for two years.  Old Mrs. Baxter Pennilow, who did
+one's Paris dresses for two years. Old Mrs. Baxter Pennilow, who did
 everything handsomely, used to import twelve a year, two velvet, two
 satin, two silk, and the other six of poplin and the finest cashmere.
 It was a standing order, and as she was ill for two years before she
@@ -8177,25 +8160,25 @@ took refuge in an unintelligible murmur.
 producing an epigram.
 
 "Oh,--" the ladies murmured; and Mrs. Archer added, partly to distract
-her daughter's attention from forbidden topics:  "Poor Regina!  Her
-Thanksgiving hasn't been a very cheerful one, I'm afraid.  Have you
+her daughter's attention from forbidden topics: "Poor Regina! Her
+Thanksgiving hasn't been a very cheerful one, I'm afraid. Have you
 heard the rumours about Beaufort's speculations, Sillerton?"
 
-Mr. Jackson nodded carelessly.  Every one had heard the rumours in
+Mr. Jackson nodded carelessly. Every one had heard the rumours in
 question, and he scorned to confirm a tale that was already common
 property.
 
-A gloomy silence fell upon the party.  No one really liked Beaufort,
+A gloomy silence fell upon the party. No one really liked Beaufort,
 and it was not wholly unpleasant to think the worst of his private
 life; but the idea of his having brought financial dishonour on his
 wife's family was too shocking to be enjoyed even by his enemies.
 Archer's New York tolerated hypocrisy in private relations; but in
-business matters it exacted a limpid and impeccable honesty.  It was a
+business matters it exacted a limpid and impeccable honesty. It was a
 long time since any well-known banker had failed discreditably; but
 every one remembered the social extinction visited on the heads of the
-firm when the last event of the kind had happened.  It would be the
-same with the Beauforts, in spite of his power and her popularity; not
-all the leagued strength of the Dallas connection would save poor
+firm when the last event of the kind had happened. It would be the
+same with the Beauforts, in spite of his power and her popularity;
+not all the leagued strength of the Dallas connection would save poor
 Regina if there were any truth in the reports of her husband's unlawful
 speculations.
 
@@ -8204,7 +8187,7 @@ touched on seemed to confirm Mrs. Archer's sense of an accelerated
 trend.
 
 "Of course, Newland, I know you let dear May go to Mrs. Struthers's
-Sunday evenings--" she began; and May interposed gaily:  "Oh, you know,
+Sunday evenings--" she began; and May interposed gaily: "Oh, you know,
 everybody goes to Mrs. Struthers's now; and she was invited to Granny's
 last reception."
 
@@ -8213,29 +8196,29 @@ conspiring to ignore them till they were well over, and then, in all
 good faith, imagining that they had taken place in a preceding age.
 There was always a traitor in the citadel; and after he (or generally
 she) had surrendered the keys, what was the use of pretending that it
-was impregnable?  Once people had tasted of Mrs. Struthers's easy
-Sunday hospitality they were not likely to sit at home remembering that
-her champagne was transmuted Shoe-Polish.
+was impregnable? Once people had tasted of Mrs. Struthers's easy Sunday
+hospitality they were not likely to sit at home remembering that her
+champagne was transmuted Shoe-Polish.
 
-"I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Archer sighed.  "Such things have to be, I
-suppose, as long as AMUSEMENT is what people go out for; but I've never
+"I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Archer sighed. "Such things have to be, I
+suppose, as long as _amusement_ is what people go out for; but I've never
 quite forgiven your cousin Madame Olenska for being the first person to
 countenance Mrs. Struthers."
 
 A sudden blush rose to young Mrs. Archer's face; it surprised her
-husband as much as the other guests about the table.  "Oh, ELLEN--" she
+husband as much as the other guests about the table. "Oh, _Ellen_--" she
 murmured, much in the same accusing and yet deprecating tone in which
-her parents might have said:  "Oh, THE BLENKERS--."
+her parents might have said: "Oh, _the Blenkers_--."
 
-It was the note which the family had taken to sounding on the mention
-of the Countess Olenska's name, since she had surprised and
+It was the note which the family had taken to sounding on the
+mention of the Countess Olenska's name, since she had surprised and
 inconvenienced them by remaining obdurate to her husband's advances;
 but on May's lips it gave food for thought, and Archer looked at her
 with the sense of strangeness that sometimes came over him when she was
 most in the tone of her environment.
 
 His mother, with less than her usual sensitiveness to atmosphere, still
-insisted:  "I've always thought that people like the Countess Olenska,
+insisted: "I've always thought that people like the Countess Olenska,
 who have lived in aristocratic societies, ought to help us to keep up
 our social distinctions, instead of ignoring them."
 
@@ -8253,19 +8236,19 @@ something noncommittal.
 "Ah, well--" Mrs. Archer sighed again.
 
 Everybody knew that the Countess Olenska was no longer in the good
-graces of her family.  Even her devoted champion, old Mrs. Manson
+graces of her family. Even her devoted champion, old Mrs. Manson
 Mingott, had been unable to defend her refusal to return to her
-husband.  The Mingotts had not proclaimed their disapproval aloud:
-their sense of solidarity was too strong.  They had simply, as Mrs.
-Welland said, "let poor Ellen find her own level"--and that,
-mortifyingly and incomprehensibly, was in the dim depths where the
-Blenkers prevailed, and "people who wrote" celebrated their untidy
-rites.  It was incredible, but it was a fact, that Ellen, in spite of
-all her opportunities and her privileges, had become simply "Bohemian."
-The fact enforced the contention that she had made a fatal mistake in
-not returning to Count Olenski.  After all, a young woman's place was
-under her husband's roof, especially when she had left it in
-circumstances that ... well ... if one had cared to look into them ...
+husband. The Mingotts had not proclaimed their disapproval aloud: their
+sense of solidarity was too strong. They had simply, as Mrs. Welland
+said, "let poor Ellen find her own level"--and that, mortifyingly
+and incomprehensibly, was in the dim depths where the Blenkers
+prevailed, and "people who wrote" celebrated their untidy rites. It
+was incredible, but it was a fact, that Ellen, in spite of all her
+opportunities and her privileges, had become simply "Bohemian." The
+fact enforced the contention that she had made a fatal mistake in not
+returning to Count Olenski. After all, a young woman's place was under
+her husband's roof, especially when she had left it in circumstances
+that ... well ... if one had cared to look into them ...
 
 "Madame Olenska is a great favourite with the gentlemen," said Miss
 Sophy, with her air of wishing to put forth something conciliatory when
@@ -8289,40 +8272,40 @@ the sharp vision of Beaufort's heavy figure, opulently furred and shod,
 advancing through the snow at Skuytercliff.
 
 "There's bound to be," Mr. Jackson continued, "the nastiest kind of a
-cleaning up.  He hasn't spent all his money on Regina."
+cleaning up. He hasn't spent all his money on Regina."
 
-"Oh, well--that's discounted, isn't it?  My belief is he'll pull out
+"Oh, well--that's discounted, isn't it? My belief is he'll pull out
 yet," said the young man, wanting to change the subject.
 
-"Perhaps--perhaps.  I know he was to see some of the influential people
-today.  Of course," Mr. Jackson reluctantly conceded, "it's to be hoped
-they can tide him over--this time anyhow.  I shouldn't like to think of
-poor Regina's spending the rest of her life in some shabby foreign
+"Perhaps--perhaps. I know he was to see some of the influential people
+today. Of course," Mr. Jackson reluctantly conceded, "it's to be hoped
+they can tide him over--this time anyhow. I shouldn't like to think
+of poor Regina's spending the rest of her life in some shabby foreign
 watering-place for bankrupts."
 
-Archer said nothing.  It seemed to him so natural--however tragic--that
+Archer said nothing. It seemed to him so natural--however tragic--that
 money ill-gotten should be cruelly expiated, that his mind, hardly
 lingering over Mrs. Beaufort's doom, wandered back to closer questions.
 What was the meaning of May's blush when the Countess Olenska had been
 mentioned?
 
 Four months had passed since the midsummer day that he and Madame
-Olenska had spent together; and since then he had not seen her.  He
-knew that she had returned to Washington, to the little house which she
-and Medora Manson had taken there: he had written to her once--a few
-words, asking when they were to meet again--and she had even more
-briefly replied: "Not yet."
+Olenska had spent together; and since then he had not seen her. He knew
+that she had returned to Washington, to the little house which she and
+Medora Manson had taken there: he had written to her once--a few words,
+asking when they were to meet again--and she had even more briefly
+replied: "Not yet."
 
 Since then there had been no farther communication between them, and he
 had built up within himself a kind of sanctuary in which she throned
-among his secret thoughts and longings.  Little by little it became the
+among his secret thoughts and longings. Little by little it became the
 scene of his real life, of his only rational activities; thither he
 brought the books he read, the ideas and feelings which nourished him,
-his judgments and his visions.  Outside it, in the scene of his actual
+his judgments and his visions. Outside it, in the scene of his actual
 life, he moved with a growing sense of unreality and insufficiency,
 blundering against familiar prejudices and traditional points of view
 as an absent-minded man goes on bumping into the furniture of his own
-room.  Absent--that was what he was: so absent from everything most
+room. Absent--that was what he was: so absent from everything most
 densely real and near to those about him that it sometimes startled him
 to find they still imagined he was there.
 
@@ -8336,7 +8319,7 @@ husband's latest offer."
 Archer was silent, and Mr. Jackson obliquely continued: "It's a
 pity--it's certainly a pity--that she refused it."
 
-"A pity?  In God's name, why?"
+"A pity? In God's name, why?"
 
 Mr. Jackson looked down his leg to the unwrinkled sock that joined it
 to a glossy pump.
@@ -8348,7 +8331,7 @@ to a glossy pump.
 "If Beaufort--"
 
 Archer sprang up, his fist banging down on the black walnut-edge of the
-writing-table.  The wells of the brass double-inkstand danced in their
+writing-table. The wells of the brass double-inkstand danced in their
 sockets.
 
 "What the devil do you mean, sir?"
@@ -8358,11 +8341,11 @@ gaze on the young man's burning face.
 
 "Well--I have it on pretty good authority--in fact, on old Catherine's
 herself--that the family reduced Countess Olenska's allowance
-considerably when she definitely refused to go back to her husband; and
-as, by this refusal, she also forfeits the money settled on her when
-she married--which Olenski was ready to make over to her if she
-returned--why, what the devil do YOU mean, my dear boy, by asking me
-what I mean?" Mr. Jackson good-humouredly retorted.
+considerably when she definitely refused to go back to her husband;
+and as, by this refusal, she also forfeits the money settled on her
+when she married--which Olenski was ready to make over to her if she
+returned--why, what the devil do _you_ mean, my dear boy, by asking me
+what _I_ mean?" Mr. Jackson good-humouredly retorted.
 
 Archer moved toward the mantelpiece and bent over to knock his ashes
 into the grate.
@@ -8375,26 +8358,26 @@ need to, to be certain that what you insinuate--"
 "Lefferts--who made love to her and got snubbed for it!" Archer broke
 out contemptuously.
 
-"Ah--DID he?" snapped the other, as if this were exactly the fact he
-had been laying a trap for.  He still sat sideways from the fire, so
+"Ah--_did_ he?" snapped the other, as if this were exactly the fact he
+had been laying a trap for. He still sat sideways from the fire, so
 that his hard old gaze held Archer's face as if in a spring of steel.
 
 "Well, well: it's a pity she didn't go back before Beaufort's cropper,"
-he repeated.  "If she goes NOW, and if he fails, it will only confirm
+he repeated. "If she goes _now_, and if he fails, it will only confirm
 the general impression: which isn't by any means peculiar to Lefferts,
 by the way."
 
-"Oh, she won't go back now: less than ever!"  Archer had no sooner said
+"Oh, she won't go back now: less than ever!" Archer had no sooner said
 it than he had once more the feeling that it was exactly what Mr.
 Jackson had been waiting for.
 
-The old gentleman considered him attentively.  "That's your opinion,
-eh?  Well, no doubt you know.  But everybody will tell you that the few
-pennies Medora Manson has left are all in Beaufort's hands; and how the
-two women are to keep their heads above water unless he does, I can't
-imagine.  Of course, Madame Olenska may still soften old Catherine,
-who's been the most inexorably opposed to her staying; and old
-Catherine could make her any allowance she chooses.  But we all know
+The old gentleman considered him attentively. "That's your opinion,
+eh? Well, no doubt you know. But everybody will tell you that the few
+pennies Medora Manson has left are all in Beaufort's hands; and how
+the two women are to keep their heads above water unless he does,
+I can't imagine. Of course, Madame Olenska may still soften old
+Catherine, who's been the most inexorably opposed to her staying; and
+old Catherine could make her any allowance she chooses. But we all know
 that she hates parting with good money; and the rest of the family have
 no particular interest in keeping Madame Olenska here."
 
@@ -8405,25 +8388,24 @@ he is doing it.
 He saw that Mr. Jackson had been instantly struck by the fact that
 Madame Olenska's differences with her grandmother and her other
 relations were not known to him, and that the old gentleman had drawn
-his own conclusions as to the reasons for Archer's exclusion from the
-family councils.  This fact warned Archer to go warily; but the
-insinuations about Beaufort made him reckless.  He was mindful,
-however, if not of his own danger, at least of the fact that Mr.
-Jackson was under his mother's roof, and consequently his guest.  Old
-New York scrupulously observed the etiquette of hospitality, and no
-discussion with a guest was ever allowed to degenerate into a
-disagreement.
+his own conclusions as to the reasons for Archer's exclusion from
+the family councils. This fact warned Archer to go warily; but the
+insinuations about Beaufort made him reckless. He was mindful, however,
+if not of his own danger, at least of the fact that Mr. Jackson was
+under his mother's roof, and consequently his guest. Old New York
+scrupulously observed the etiquette of hospitality, and no discussion
+with a guest was ever allowed to degenerate into a disagreement.
 
 "Shall we go up and join my mother?" he suggested curtly, as Mr.
 Jackson's last cone of ashes dropped into the brass ashtray at his
 elbow.
 
 On the drive homeward May remained oddly silent; through the darkness,
-he still felt her enveloped in her menacing blush.  What its menace
+he still felt her enveloped in her menacing blush. What its menace
 meant he could not guess: but he was sufficiently warned by the fact
 that Madame Olenska's name had evoked it.
 
-They went upstairs, and he turned into the library.  She usually
+They went upstairs, and he turned into the library. She usually
 followed him; but he heard her passing down the passage to her bedroom.
 
 "May!" he called out impatiently; and she came back, with a slight
@@ -8435,67 +8417,68 @@ it's kept properly trimmed," he grumbled nervously.
 "I'm so sorry: it shan't happen again," she answered, in the firm
 bright tone she had learned from her mother; and it exasperated Archer
 to feel that she was already beginning to humour him like a younger Mr.
-Welland.  She bent over to lower the wick, and as the light struck up
-on her white shoulders and the clear curves of her face he thought:
-"How young she is!  For what endless years this life will have to go
-on!"
+Welland. She bent over to lower the wick, and as the light struck up on
+her white shoulders and the clear curves of her face he thought: "How
+young she is! For what endless years this life will have to go on!"
 
 He felt, with a kind of horror, his own strong youth and the bounding
-blood in his veins.  "Look here," he said suddenly, "I may have to go
-to Washington for a few days--soon; next week perhaps."
+blood in his veins. "Look here," he said suddenly, "I may have to go to
+Washington for a few days--soon; next week perhaps."
 
 Her hand remained on the key of the lamp as she turned to him slowly.
 The heat from its flame had brought back a glow to her face, but it
 paled as she looked up.
 
-"On business?" she asked, in a tone which implied that there could be
-no other conceivable reason, and that she had put the question
+"On business?" she asked, in a tone which implied that there could
+be no other conceivable reason, and that she had put the question
 automatically, as if merely to finish his own sentence.
 
-"On business, naturally.  There's a patent case coming up before the
-Supreme Court--"  He gave the name of the inventor, and went on
+"On business, naturally. There's a patent case coming up before
+the Supreme Court--" He gave the name of the inventor, and went on
 furnishing details with all Lawrence Lefferts's practised glibness,
-while she listened attentively, saying at intervals:  "Yes, I see."
+while she listened attentively, saying at intervals: "Yes, I see."
 
 "The change will do you good," she said simply, when he had finished;
 "and you must be sure to go and see Ellen," she added, looking him
-straight in the eyes with her cloudless smile, and speaking in the tone
-she might have employed in urging him not to neglect some irksome
+straight in the eyes with her cloudless smile, and speaking in the
+tone she might have employed in urging him not to neglect some irksome
 family duty.
 
 It was the only word that passed between them on the subject; but in
-the code in which they had both been trained it meant:  "Of course you
+the code in which they had both been trained it meant: "Of course you
 understand that I know all that people have been saying about Ellen,
 and heartily sympathise with my family in their effort to get her to
-return to her husband.  I also know that, for some reason you have not
-chosen to tell me, you have advised her against this course, which all
-the older men of the family, as well as our grandmother, agree in
-approving; and that it is owing to your encouragement that Ellen defies
-us all, and exposes herself to the kind of criticism of which Mr.
-Sillerton Jackson probably gave you, this evening, the hint that has
-made you so irritable....  Hints have indeed not been wanting; but
+return to her husband. I also know that, for some reason you have not
+chosen to tell me, you have advised her against this course, which
+all the older men of the family, as well as our grandmother, agree
+in approving; and that it is owing to your encouragement that Ellen
+defies us all, and exposes herself to the kind of criticism of which
+Mr. Sillerton Jackson probably gave you, this evening, the hint that
+has made you so irritable.... Hints have indeed not been wanting; but
 since you appear unwilling to take them from others, I offer you this
 one myself, in the only form in which well-bred people of our kind can
 communicate unpleasant things to each other: by letting you understand
 that I know you mean to see Ellen when you are in Washington, and are
-perhaps going there expressly for that purpose; and that, since you are
-sure to see her, I wish you to do so with my full and explicit
+perhaps going there expressly for that purpose; and that, since you
+are sure to see her, I wish you to do so with my full and explicit
 approval--and to take the opportunity of letting her know what the
 course of conduct you have encouraged her in is likely to lead to."
 
 Her hand was still on the key of the lamp when the last word of this
-mute message reached him.  She turned the wick down, lifted off the
+mute message reached him. She turned the wick down, lifted off the
 globe, and breathed on the sulky flame.
 
 "They smell less if one blows them out," she explained, with her bright
-housekeeping air.  On the threshold she turned and paused for his kiss.
+housekeeping air. On the threshold she turned and paused for his kiss.
+
 
 
 
 XXVII.
 
+
 Wall Street, the next day, had more reassuring reports of Beaufort's
-situation.  They were not definite, but they were hopeful.  It was
+situation. They were not definite, but they were hopeful. It was
 generally understood that he could call on powerful influences in case
 of emergency, and that he had done so with success; and that evening,
 when Mrs. Beaufort appeared at the Opera wearing her old smile and a
@@ -8504,69 +8487,68 @@ new emerald necklace, society drew a breath of relief.
 New York was inexorable in its condemnation of business irregularities.
 So far there had been no exception to its tacit rule that those who
 broke the law of probity must pay; and every one was aware that even
-Beaufort and Beaufort's wife would be offered up unflinchingly to this
-principle.  But to be obliged to offer them up would be not only
-painful but inconvenient.  The disappearance of the Beauforts would
+Beaufort and Beaufort's wife would be offered up unflinchingly to
+this principle. But to be obliged to offer them up would be not only
+painful but inconvenient. The disappearance of the Beauforts would
 leave a considerable void in their compact little circle; and those who
 were too ignorant or too careless to shudder at the moral catastrophe
 bewailed in advance the loss of the best ball-room in New York.
 
-Archer had definitely made up his mind to go to Washington.  He was
-waiting only for the opening of the law-suit of which he had spoken to
-May, so that its date might coincide with that of his visit; but on the
-following Tuesday he learned from Mr. Letterblair that the case might
-be postponed for several weeks.  Nevertheless, he went home that
-afternoon determined in any event to leave the next evening.  The
-chances were that May, who knew nothing of his professional life, and
-had never shown any interest in it, would not learn of the
+Archer had definitely made up his mind to go to Washington. He was
+waiting only for the opening of the law-suit of which he had spoken
+to May, so that its date might coincide with that of his visit; but
+on the following Tuesday he learned from Mr. Letterblair that the
+case might be postponed for several weeks. Nevertheless, he went home
+that afternoon determined in any event to leave the next evening.
+The chances were that May, who knew nothing of his professional
+life, and had never shown any interest in it, would not learn of the
 postponement, should it take place, nor remember the names of the
 litigants if they were mentioned before her; and at any rate he could
-no longer put off seeing Madame Olenska.  There were too many things
+no longer put off seeing Madame Olenska. There were too many things
 that he must say to her.
 
 On the Wednesday morning, when he reached his office, Mr. Letterblair
-met him with a troubled face.  Beaufort, after all, had not managed to
+met him with a troubled face. Beaufort, after all, had not managed to
 "tide over"; but by setting afloat the rumour that he had done so he
 had reassured his depositors, and heavy payments had poured into the
 bank till the previous evening, when disturbing reports again began to
-predominate.  In consequence, a run on the bank had begun, and its
-doors were likely to close before the day was over.  The ugliest things
-were being said of Beaufort's dastardly manoeuvre, and his failure
-promised to be one of the most discreditable in the history of Wall
-Street.
+predominate. In consequence, a run on the bank had begun, and its doors
+were likely to close before the day was over. The ugliest things were
+being said of Beaufort's dastardly manœuvre, and his failure promised
+to be one of the most discreditable in the history of Wall Street.
 
 The extent of the calamity left Mr. Letterblair white and
-incapacitated.  "I've seen bad things in my time; but nothing as bad as
-this.  Everybody we know will be hit, one way or another.  And what
-will be done about Mrs. Beaufort?  What CAN be done about her?  I pity
+incapacitated. "I've seen bad things in my time; but nothing as bad
+as this. Everybody we know will be hit, one way or another. And what
+will be done about Mrs. Beaufort? What _can_ be done about her? I pity
 Mrs. Manson Mingott as much as anybody: coming at her age, there's no
-knowing what effect this affair may have on her.  She always believed
-in Beaufort--she made a friend of him!  And there's the whole Dallas
-connection: poor Mrs. Beaufort is related to every one of you.  Her
-only chance would be to leave her husband--yet how can any one tell her
-so?  Her duty is at his side; and luckily she seems always to have been
+knowing what effect this affair may have on her. She always believed
+in Beaufort--she made a friend of him! And there's the whole Dallas
+connection: poor Mrs. Beaufort is related to every one of you. Her only
+chance would be to leave her husband--yet how can any one tell her so?
+Her duty is at his side; and luckily she seems always to have been
 blind to his private weaknesses."
 
-There was a knock, and Mr. Letterblair turned his head sharply.  "What
-is it?  I can't be disturbed."
+There was a knock, and Mr. Letterblair turned his head sharply. "What
+is it? I can't be disturbed."
 
-A clerk brought in a letter for Archer and withdrew.  Recognising his
-wife's hand, the young man opened the envelope and read:  "Won't you
-please come up town as early as you can?  Granny had a slight stroke
-last night.  In some mysterious way she found out before any one else
-this awful news about the bank.  Uncle Lovell is away shooting, and the
-idea of the disgrace has made poor Papa so nervous that he has a
-temperature and can't leave his room.  Mamma needs you dreadfully, and
-I do hope you can get away at once and go straight to Granny's."
+A clerk brought in a letter for Archer and withdrew. Recognising his
+wife's hand, the young man opened the envelope and read: "Won't you
+please come up town as early as you can? Granny had a slight stroke
+last night. In some mysterious way she found out before any one else
+this awful news about the bank. Uncle Lovell is away shooting, and
+the idea of the disgrace has made poor Papa so nervous that he has a
+temperature and can't leave his room. Mamma needs you dreadfully, and I
+do hope you can get away at once and go straight to Granny's."
 
 Archer handed the note to his senior partner, and a few minutes later
 was crawling northward in a crowded horse-car, which he exchanged at
 Fourteenth Street for one of the high staggering omnibuses of the Fifth
-Avenue line.  It was after twelve o'clock when this laborious vehicle
-dropped him at old Catherine's.  The sitting-room window on the ground
+Avenue line. It was after twelve o'clock when this laborious vehicle
+dropped him at old Catherine's. The sitting-room window on the ground
 floor, where she usually throned, was tenanted by the inadequate figure
 of her daughter, Mrs. Welland, who signed a haggard welcome as she
-caught sight of Archer; and at the door he was met by May.  The hall
+caught sight of Archer; and at the door he was met by May. The hall
 wore the unnatural appearance peculiar to well-kept houses suddenly
 invaded by illness: wraps and furs lay in heaps on the chairs, a
 doctor's bag and overcoat were on the table, and beside them letters
@@ -8574,118 +8556,118 @@ and cards had already piled up unheeded.
 
 May looked pale but smiling: Dr. Bencomb, who had just come for the
 second time, took a more hopeful view, and Mrs. Mingott's dauntless
-determination to live and get well was already having an effect on her
-family.  May led Archer into the old lady's sitting-room, where the
-sliding doors opening into the bedroom had been drawn shut, and the
-heavy yellow damask portieres dropped over them; and here Mrs. Welland
-communicated to him in horrified undertones the details of the
-catastrophe.  It appeared that the evening before something dreadful
-and mysterious had happened.  At about eight o'clock, just after Mrs.
+determination to live and get well was already having an effect on
+her family. May led Archer into the old lady's sitting-room, where
+the sliding doors opening into the bedroom had been drawn shut, and
+the heavy yellow damask portières dropped over them; and here Mrs.
+Welland communicated to him in horrified undertones the details of the
+catastrophe. It appeared that the evening before something dreadful
+and mysterious had happened. At about eight o'clock, just after Mrs.
 Mingott had finished the game of solitaire that she always played after
 dinner, the door-bell had rung, and a lady so thickly veiled that the
 servants did not immediately recognise her had asked to be received.
 
 The butler, hearing a familiar voice, had thrown open the sitting-room
-door, announcing:  "Mrs. Julius Beaufort"--and had then closed it again
-on the two ladies.  They must have been together, he thought, about an
-hour.  When Mrs. Mingott's bell rang Mrs. Beaufort had already slipped
+door, announcing: "Mrs. Julius Beaufort"--and had then closed it again
+on the two ladies. They must have been together, he thought, about an
+hour. When Mrs. Mingott's bell rang Mrs. Beaufort had already slipped
 away unseen, and the old lady, white and vast and terrible, sat alone
 in her great chair, and signed to the butler to help her into her room.
 She seemed, at that time, though obviously distressed, in complete
-control of her body and brain.  The mulatto maid put her to bed,
-brought her a cup of tea as usual, laid everything straight in the
-room, and went away; but at three in the morning the bell rang again,
-and the two servants, hastening in at this unwonted summons (for old
-Catherine usually slept like a baby), had found their mistress sitting
-up against her pillows with a crooked smile on her face and one little
-hand hanging limp from its huge arm.
+control of her body and brain. The mulatto maid put her to bed, brought
+her a cup of tea as usual, laid everything straight in the room, and
+went away; but at three in the morning the bell rang again, and the
+two servants, hastening in at this unwonted summons (for old Catherine
+usually slept like a baby), had found their mistress sitting up against
+her pillows with a crooked smile on her face and one little hand
+hanging limp from its huge arm.
 
 The stroke had clearly been a slight one, for she was able to
 articulate and to make her wishes known; and soon after the doctor's
-first visit she had begun to regain control of her facial muscles.  But
+first visit she had begun to regain control of her facial muscles. But
 the alarm had been great; and proportionately great was the indignation
 when it was gathered from Mrs. Mingott's fragmentary phrases that
-Regina Beaufort had come to ask her--incredible effrontery!--to back up
-her husband, see them through--not to "desert" them, as she called
+Regina Beaufort had come to ask her--incredible effrontery!--to back
+up her husband, see them through--not to "desert" them, as she called
 it--in fact to induce the whole family to cover and condone their
 monstrous dishonour.
 
-"I said to her:  'Honour's always been honour, and honesty honesty, in
+"I said to her: 'Honour's always been honour, and honesty honesty, in
 Manson Mingott's house, and will be till I'm carried out of it feet
 first,'" the old woman had stammered into her daughter's ear, in the
-thick voice of the partly paralysed.  "And when she said:  'But my
-name, Auntie--my name's Regina Dallas,' I said:  'It was Beaufort when
-he covered you with jewels, and it's got to stay Beaufort now that he's
+thick voice of the partly paralysed. "And when she said: 'But my name,
+Auntie--my name's Regina Dallas,' I said: 'It was Beaufort when he
+covered you with jewels, and it's got to stay Beaufort now that he's
 covered you with shame.'"
 
 So much, with tears and gasps of horror, Mrs. Welland imparted,
 blanched and demolished by the unwonted obligation of having at last to
-fix her eyes on the unpleasant and the discreditable.  "If only I could
+fix her eyes on the unpleasant and the discreditable. "If only I could
 keep it from your father-in-law: he always says: 'Augusta, for pity's
 sake, don't destroy my last illusions'--and how am I to prevent his
 knowing these horrors?" the poor lady wailed.
 
-"After all, Mamma, he won't have SEEN them," her daughter suggested;
-and Mrs. Welland sighed:  "Ah, no; thank heaven he's safe in bed.  And
+"After all, Mamma, he won't have _seen_ them," her daughter suggested;
+and Mrs. Welland sighed: "Ah, no; thank heaven he's safe in bed. And
 Dr. Bencomb has promised to keep him there till poor Mamma is better,
 and Regina has been got away somewhere."
 
-Archer had seated himself near the window and was gazing out blankly at
-the deserted thoroughfare.  It was evident that he had been summoned
-rather for the moral support of the stricken ladies than because of any
-specific aid that he could render.  Mr. Lovell Mingott had been
+Archer had seated himself near the window and was gazing out blankly
+at the deserted thoroughfare. It was evident that he had been summoned
+rather for the moral support of the stricken ladies than because of
+any specific aid that he could render. Mr. Lovell Mingott had been
 telegraphed for, and messages were being despatched by hand to the
 members of the family living in New York; and meanwhile there was
 nothing to do but to discuss in hushed tones the consequences of
 Beaufort's dishonour and of his wife's unjustifiable action.
 
 Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who had been in another room writing notes,
-presently reappeared, and added her voice to the discussion.  In THEIR
+presently reappeared, and added her voice to the discussion. In _their_
 day, the elder ladies agreed, the wife of a man who had done anything
 disgraceful in business had only one idea: to efface herself, to
-disappear with him.  "There was the case of poor Grandmamma Spicer;
-your great-grandmother, May.  Of course," Mrs. Welland hastened to add,
-"your great-grandfather's money difficulties were private--losses at
-cards, or signing a note for somebody--I never quite knew, because
-Mamma would never speak of it.  But she was brought up in the country
-because her mother had to leave New York after the disgrace, whatever
-it was: they lived up the Hudson alone, winter and summer, till Mamma
-was sixteen.  It would never have occurred to Grandmamma Spicer to ask
-the family to 'countenance' her, as I understand Regina calls it;
-though a private disgrace is nothing compared to the scandal of ruining
-hundreds of innocent people."
+disappear with him. "There was the case of poor Grandmamma Spicer; your
+great-grandmother, May. Of course," Mrs. Welland hastened to add, "your
+great-grandfather's money difficulties were private--losses at cards,
+or signing a note for somebody--I never quite knew, because Mamma would
+never speak of it. But she was brought up in the country because her
+mother had to leave New York after the disgrace, whatever it was: they
+lived up the Hudson alone, winter and summer, till Mamma was sixteen.
+It would never have occurred to Grandmamma Spicer to ask the family to
+'countenance' her, as I understand Regina calls it; though a private
+disgrace is nothing compared to the scandal of ruining hundreds of
+innocent people."
 
 "Yes, it would be more becoming in Regina to hide her own countenance
-than to talk about other people's," Mrs. Lovell Mingott agreed.  "I
+than to talk about other people's," Mrs. Lovell Mingott agreed. "I
 understand that the emerald necklace she wore at the Opera last Friday
-had been sent on approval from Ball and Black's in the afternoon.  I
+had been sent on approval from Ball and Black's in the afternoon. I
 wonder if they'll ever get it back?"
 
-Archer listened unmoved to the relentless chorus.  The idea of absolute
-financial probity as the first law of a gentleman's code was too deeply
-ingrained in him for sentimental considerations to weaken it.  An
-adventurer like Lemuel Struthers might build up the millions of his
-Shoe Polish on any number of shady dealings; but unblemished honesty
-was the noblesse oblige of old financial New York.  Nor did Mrs.
-Beaufort's fate greatly move Archer.  He felt, no doubt, more sorry for
+Archer listened unmoved to the relentless chorus. The idea of absolute
+financial probity as the first law of a gentleman's code was too
+deeply ingrained in him for sentimental considerations to weaken
+it. An adventurer like Lemuel Struthers might build up the millions
+of his Shoe Polish on any number of shady dealings; but unblemished
+honesty was the _noblesse oblige_ of old financial New York. Nor did Mrs.
+Beaufort's fate greatly move Archer. He felt, no doubt, more sorry for
 her than her indignant relatives; but it seemed to him that the tie
 between husband and wife, even if breakable in prosperity, should be
-indissoluble in misfortune.  As Mr. Letterblair had said, a wife's
-place was at her husband's side when he was in trouble; but society's
-place was not at his side, and Mrs. Beaufort's cool assumption that it
-was seemed almost to make her his accomplice.  The mere idea of a
-woman's appealing to her family to screen her husband's business
-dishonour was inadmissible, since it was the one thing that the Family,
-as an institution, could not do.
+indissoluble in misfortune. As Mr. Letterblair had said, a wife's place
+was at her husband's side when he was in trouble; but society's place
+was not at his side, and Mrs. Beaufort's cool assumption that it was
+seemed almost to make her his accomplice. The mere idea of a woman's
+appealing to her family to screen her husband's business dishonour
+was inadmissible, since it was the one thing that the Family, as an
+institution, could not do.
 
 The mulatto maid called Mrs. Lovell Mingott into the hall, and the
 latter came back in a moment with a frowning brow.
 
-"She wants me to telegraph for Ellen Olenska.  I had written to Ellen,
-of course, and to Medora; but now it seems that's not enough.  I'm to
+"She wants me to telegraph for Ellen Olenska. I had written to Ellen,
+of course, and to Medora; but now it seems that's not enough. I'm to
 telegraph to her immediately, and to tell her that she's to come alone."
 
-The announcement was received in silence.  Mrs. Welland sighed
+The announcement was received in silence. Mrs. Welland sighed
 resignedly, and May rose from her seat and went to gather up some
 newspapers that had been scattered on the floor.
 
@@ -8693,48 +8675,50 @@ newspapers that had been scattered on the floor.
 hoping to be contradicted; and May turned back toward the middle of the
 room.
 
-"Of course it must be done," she said.  "Granny knows what she wants,
-and we must carry out all her wishes.  Shall I write the telegram for
-you, Auntie?  If it goes at once Ellen can probably catch tomorrow
-morning's train."  She pronounced the syllables of the name with a
+"Of course it must be done," she said. "Granny knows what she wants,
+and we must carry out all her wishes. Shall I write the telegram for
+you, Auntie? If it goes at once Ellen can probably catch tomorrow
+morning's train." She pronounced the syllables of the name with a
 peculiar clearness, as if she had tapped on two silver bells.
 
-"Well, it can't go at once.  Jasper and the pantry-boy are both out
-with notes and telegrams."
+"Well, it can't go at once. Jasper and the pantry-boy are both out with
+notes and telegrams."
 
-May turned to her husband with a smile.  "But here's Newland, ready to
-do anything.  Will you take the telegram, Newland?  There'll be just
-time before luncheon."
+May turned to her husband with a smile. "But here's Newland, ready to
+do anything. Will you take the telegram, Newland? There'll be just time
+before luncheon."
 
 Archer rose with a murmur of readiness, and she seated herself at old
 Catherine's rosewood "Bonheur du Jour," and wrote out the message in
-her large immature hand.  When it was written she blotted it neatly and
+her large immature hand. When it was written she blotted it neatly and
 handed it to Archer.
 
 "What a pity," she said, "that you and Ellen will cross each other on
 the way!--Newland," she added, turning to her mother and aunt, "is
-obliged to go to Washington about a patent law-suit that is coming up
-before the Supreme Court.  I suppose Uncle Lovell will be back by
+obliged to go to Washington about a patent law-suit that is coming
+up before the Supreme Court. I suppose Uncle Lovell will be back by
 tomorrow night, and with Granny improving so much it doesn't seem right
 to ask Newland to give up an important engagement for the firm--does
 it?"
 
 She paused, as if for an answer, and Mrs. Welland hastily declared:
-"Oh, of course not, darling.  Your Granny would be the last person to
-wish it."  As Archer left the room with the telegram, he heard his
-mother-in-law add, presumably to Mrs. Lovell Mingott:  "But why on
-earth she should make you telegraph for Ellen Olenska--" and May's
-clear voice rejoin:  "Perhaps it's to urge on her again that after all
-her duty is with her husband."
+"Oh, of course not, darling. Your Granny would be the last person to
+wish it." As Archer left the room with the telegram, he heard his
+mother-in-law add, presumably to Mrs. Lovell Mingott: "But why on earth
+she should make you telegraph for Ellen Olenska--" and May's clear
+voice rejoin: "Perhaps it's to urge on her again that after all her
+duty is with her husband."
 
 The outer door closed on Archer and he walked hastily away toward the
 telegraph office.
 
 
 
+
 XXVIII.
 
-"Ol-ol--howjer spell it, anyhow?" asked the tart young lady to whom
+
+"Ol--ol--howjer spell it, anyhow?" asked the tart young lady to whom
 Archer had pushed his wife's telegram across the brass ledge of the
 Western Union office.
 
@@ -8746,15 +8730,15 @@ this quarter," an unexpected voice observed; and turning around Archer
 saw Lawrence Lefferts at his elbow, pulling an imperturbable moustache
 and affecting not to glance at the message.
 
-"Hallo, Newland: thought I'd catch you here.  I've just heard of old
+"Hallo, Newland: thought I'd catch you here. I've just heard of old
 Mrs. Mingott's stroke; and as I was on my way to the house I saw you
-turning down this street and nipped after you.  I suppose you've come
+turning down this street and nipped after you. I suppose you've come
 from there?"
 
 Archer nodded, and pushed his telegram under the lattice.
 
-"Very bad, eh?" Lefferts continued.  "Wiring to the family, I suppose.
-I gather it IS bad, if you're including Countess Olenska."
+"Very bad, eh?" Lefferts continued. "Wiring to the family, I suppose. I
+gather it _is_ bad, if you're including Countess Olenska."
 
 Archer's lips stiffened; he felt a savage impulse to dash his fist into
 the long vain handsome face at his side.
@@ -8763,55 +8747,55 @@ the long vain handsome face at his side.
 
 Lefferts, who was known to shrink from discussion, raised his eye-brows
 with an ironic grimace that warned the other of the watching damsel
-behind the lattice.  Nothing could be worse "form" the look reminded
+behind the lattice. Nothing could be worse "form" the look reminded
 Archer, than any display of temper in a public place.
 
-Archer had never been more indifferent to the requirements of form; but
-his impulse to do Lawrence Lefferts a physical injury was only
-momentary.  The idea of bandying Ellen Olenska's name with him at such
-a time, and on whatsoever provocation, was unthinkable.  He paid for
+Archer had never been more indifferent to the requirements of form;
+but his impulse to do Lawrence Lefferts a physical injury was only
+momentary. The idea of bandying Ellen Olenska's name with him at such
+a time, and on whatsoever provocation, was unthinkable. He paid for
 his telegram, and the two young men went out together into the street.
-There Archer, having regained his self-control, went on:  "Mrs. Mingott
+There Archer, having regained his self-control, went on: "Mrs. Mingott
 is much better: the doctor feels no anxiety whatever"; and Lefferts,
 with profuse expressions of relief, asked him if he had heard that
 there were beastly bad rumours again about Beaufort....
 
 That afternoon the announcement of the Beaufort failure was in all the
-papers.  It overshadowed the report of Mrs. Manson Mingott's stroke,
-and only the few who had heard of the mysterious connection between the
-two events thought of ascribing old Catherine's illness to anything but
-the accumulation of flesh and years.
+papers. It overshadowed the report of Mrs. Manson Mingott's stroke, and
+only the few who had heard of the mysterious connection between the two
+events thought of ascribing old Catherine's illness to anything but the
+accumulation of flesh and years.
 
 The whole of New York was darkened by the tale of Beaufort's dishonour.
 There had never, as Mr. Letterblair said, been a worse case in his
 memory, nor, for that matter, in the memory of the far-off Letterblair
-who had given his name to the firm.  The bank had continued to take in
-money for a whole day after its failure was inevitable; and as many of
-its clients belonged to one or another of the ruling clans, Beaufort's
-duplicity seemed doubly cynical.  If Mrs. Beaufort had not taken the
-tone that such misfortunes (the word was her own) were "the test of
-friendship," compassion for her might have tempered the general
-indignation against her husband.  As it was--and especially after the
-object of her nocturnal visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott had become
-known--her cynicism was held to exceed his; and she had not the
+who had given his name to the firm. The bank had continued to take
+in money for a whole day after its failure was inevitable; and as
+many of its clients belonged to one or another of the ruling clans,
+Beaufort's duplicity seemed doubly cynical. If Mrs. Beaufort had not
+taken the tone that such misfortunes (the word was her own) were
+"the test of friendship," compassion for her might have tempered the
+general indignation against her husband. As it was--and especially
+after the object of her nocturnal visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott had
+become known--her cynicism was held to exceed his; and she had not the
 excuse--nor her detractors the satisfaction--of pleading that she was
-"a foreigner."  It was some comfort (to those whose securities were not
-in jeopardy) to be able to remind themselves that Beaufort WAS; but,
-after all, if a Dallas of South Carolina took his view of the case, and
-glibly talked of his soon being "on his feet again," the argument lost
-its edge, and there was nothing to do but to accept this awful evidence
-of the indissolubility of marriage.  Society must manage to get on
-without the Beauforts, and there was an end of it--except indeed for
+"a foreigner." It was some comfort (to those whose securities were not
+in jeopardy) to be able to remind themselves that Beaufort _was_; but,
+after all, if a Dallas of South Carolina took his view of the case,
+and glibly talked of his soon being "on his feet again," the argument
+lost its edge, and there was nothing to do but to accept this awful
+evidence of the indissolubility of marriage. Society must manage to get
+on without the Beauforts, and there was an end of it--except indeed for
 such hapless victims of the disaster as Medora Manson, the poor old
 Miss Lannings, and certain other misguided ladies of good family who,
 if only they had listened to Mr. Henry van der Luyden ...
 
-"The best thing the Beauforts can do," said Mrs. Archer, summing it up
-as if she were pronouncing a diagnosis and prescribing a course of
-treatment, "is to go and live at Regina's little place in North
-Carolina.  Beaufort has always kept a racing stable, and he had better
-breed trotting horses.  I should say he had all the qualities of a
-successful horsedealer."  Every one agreed with her, but no one
+"The best thing the Beauforts can do," said Mrs. Archer, summing it
+up as if she were pronouncing a diagnosis and prescribing a course
+of treatment, "is to go and live at Regina's little place in North
+Carolina. Beaufort has always kept a racing stable, and he had
+better breed trotting horses. I should say he had all the qualities
+of a successful horsedealer." Every one agreed with her, but no one
 condescended to enquire what the Beauforts really meant to do.
 
 The next day Mrs. Manson Mingott was much better: she recovered her
@@ -8819,24 +8803,23 @@ voice sufficiently to give orders that no one should mention the
 Beauforts to her again, and asked--when Dr. Bencomb appeared--what in
 the world her family meant by making such a fuss about her health.
 
-"If people of my age WILL eat chicken-salad in the evening what are
+"If people of my age _will_ eat chicken-salad in the evening what are
 they to expect?" she enquired; and, the doctor having opportunely
 modified her dietary, the stroke was transformed into an attack of
-indigestion.  But in spite of her firm tone old Catherine did not
-wholly recover her former attitude toward life.  The growing remoteness
-of old age, though it had not diminished her curiosity about her
-neighbours, had blunted her never very lively compassion for their
-troubles; and she seemed to have no difficulty in putting the Beaufort
-disaster out of her mind.  But for the first time she became absorbed
-in her own symptoms, and began to take a sentimental interest in
-certain members of her family to whom she had hitherto been
-contemptuously indifferent.
+indigestion. But in spite of her firm tone old Catherine did not wholly
+recover her former attitude toward life. The growing remoteness of old
+age, though it had not diminished her curiosity about her neighbours,
+had blunted her never very lively compassion for their troubles; and
+she seemed to have no difficulty in putting the Beaufort disaster out
+of her mind. But for the first time she became absorbed in her own
+symptoms, and began to take a sentimental interest in certain members
+of her family to whom she had hitherto been contemptuously indifferent.
 
 Mr. Welland, in particular, had the privilege of attracting her notice.
 Of her sons-in-law he was the one she had most consistently ignored;
 and all his wife's efforts to represent him as a man of forceful
 character and marked intellectual ability (if he had only "chosen") had
-been met with a derisive chuckle.  But his eminence as a valetudinarian
+been met with a derisive chuckle. But his eminence as a valetudinarian
 now made him an object of engrossing interest, and Mrs. Mingott issued
 an imperial summons to him to come and compare diets as soon as his
 temperature permitted; for old Catherine was now the first to recognise
@@ -8844,24 +8827,24 @@ that one could not be too careful about temperatures.
 
 Twenty-four hours after Madame Olenska's summons a telegram announced
 that she would arrive from Washington on the evening of the following
-day.  At the Wellands', where the Newland Archers chanced to be
+day. At the Wellands', where the Newland Archers chanced to be
 lunching, the question as to who should meet her at Jersey City was
 immediately raised; and the material difficulties amid which the
 Welland household struggled as if it had been a frontier outpost, lent
-animation to the debate.  It was agreed that Mrs. Welland could not
+animation to the debate. It was agreed that Mrs. Welland could not
 possibly go to Jersey City because she was to accompany her husband to
 old Catherine's that afternoon, and the brougham could not be spared,
-since, if Mr. Welland were "upset" by seeing his mother-in-law for the
-first time after her attack, he might have to be taken home at a
-moment's notice.  The Welland sons would of course be "down town," Mr.
+since, if Mr. Welland were "upset" by seeing his mother-in-law for
+the first time after her attack, he might have to be taken home at a
+moment's notice. The Welland sons would of course be "down town," Mr.
 Lovell Mingott would be just hurrying back from his shooting, and the
-Mingott carriage engaged in meeting him; and one could not ask May, at
-the close of a winter afternoon, to go alone across the ferry to Jersey
-City, even in her own carriage.  Nevertheless, it might appear
+Mingott carriage engaged in meeting him; and one could not ask May,
+at the close of a winter afternoon, to go alone across the ferry to
+Jersey City, even in her own carriage. Nevertheless, it might appear
 inhospitable--and contrary to old Catherine's express wishes--if Madame
 Olenska were allowed to arrive without any of the family being at the
-station to receive her.  It was just like Ellen, Mrs. Welland's tired
-voice implied, to place the family in such a dilemma.  "It's always one
+station to receive her. It was just like Ellen, Mrs. Welland's tired
+voice implied, to place the family in such a dilemma. "It's always one
 thing after another," the poor lady grieved, in one of her rare revolts
 against fate; "the only thing that makes me think Mamma must be less
 well than Dr. Bencomb will admit is this morbid desire to have Ellen
@@ -8872,26 +8855,26 @@ are; and Mr. Welland was upon them with a pounce.
 
 "Augusta," he said, turning pale and laying down his fork, "have you
 any other reason for thinking that Bencomb is less to be relied on than
-he was?  Have you noticed that he has been less conscientious than
-usual in following up my case or your mother's?"
-
-It was Mrs. Welland's turn to grow pale as the endless consequences of
-her blunder unrolled themselves before her; but she managed to laugh,
-and take a second helping of scalloped oysters, before she said,
-struggling back into her old armour of cheerfulness: "My dear, how
-could you imagine such a thing?  I only meant that, after the decided
-stand Mamma took about its being Ellen's duty to go back to her
+he was? Have you noticed that he has been less conscientious than usual
+in following up my case or your mother's?"
+
+It was Mrs. Welland's turn to grow pale as the endless consequences
+of her blunder unrolled themselves before her; but she managed to
+laugh, and take a second helping of scalloped oysters, before she
+said, struggling back into her old armour of cheerfulness: "My dear,
+how could you imagine such a thing? I only meant that, after the
+decided stand Mamma took about its being Ellen's duty to go back to her
 husband, it seems strange that she should be seized with this sudden
 whim to see her, when there are half a dozen other grandchildren that
-she might have asked for.  But we must never forget that Mamma, in
-spite of her wonderful vitality, is a very old woman."
+she might have asked for. But we must never forget that Mamma, in spite
+of her wonderful vitality, is a very old woman."
 
 Mr. Welland's brow remained clouded, and it was evident that his
-perturbed imagination had fastened at once on this last remark.  "Yes:
+perturbed imagination had fastened at once on this last remark. "Yes:
 your mother's a very old woman; and for all we know Bencomb may not be
-as successful with very old people.  As you say, my dear, it's always
+as successful with very old people. As you say, my dear, it's always
 one thing after another; and in another ten or fifteen years I suppose
-I shall have the pleasing duty of looking about for a new doctor.  It's
+I shall have the pleasing duty of looking about for a new doctor. It's
 always better to make such a change before it's absolutely necessary."
 And having arrived at this Spartan decision Mr. Welland firmly took up
 his fork.
@@ -8906,132 +8889,133 @@ Archer turned from the fascinated contemplation of a small painting
 representing two Cardinals carousing, in an octagonal ebony frame set
 with medallions of onyx.
 
-"Shall I fetch her?" he proposed.  "I can easily get away from the
+"Shall I fetch her?" he proposed. "I can easily get away from the
 office in time to meet the brougham at the ferry, if May will send it
-there."  His heart was beating excitedly as he spoke.
+there." His heart was beating excitedly as he spoke.
 
-Mrs. Welland heaved a sigh of gratitude, and May, who had moved away to
-the window, turned to shed on him a beam of approval.  "So you see,
-Mamma, everything WILL be settled twenty-four hours in advance," she
+Mrs. Welland heaved a sigh of gratitude, and May, who had moved away
+to the window, turned to shed on him a beam of approval. "So you see,
+Mamma, everything _will_ be settled twenty-four hours in advance," she
 said, stooping over to kiss her mother's troubled forehead.
 
 May's brougham awaited her at the door, and she was to drive Archer to
-Union Square, where he could pick up a Broadway car to carry him to the
-office.  As she settled herself in her corner she said:  "I didn't want
-to worry Mamma by raising fresh obstacles; but how can you meet Ellen
-tomorrow, and bring her back to New York, when you're going to
+Union Square, where he could pick up a Broadway car to carry him to
+the office. As she settled herself in her corner she said: "I didn't
+want to worry Mamma by raising fresh obstacles; but how can you meet
+Ellen tomorrow, and bring her back to New York, when you're going to
 Washington?"
 
 "Oh, I'm not going," Archer answered.
 
-"Not going?  Why, what's happened?"  Her voice was as clear as a bell,
+"Not going? Why, what's happened?" Her voice was as clear as a bell,
 and full of wifely solicitude.
 
 "The case is off--postponed."
 
-"Postponed?  How odd!  I saw a note this morning from Mr. Letterblair
+"Postponed? How odd! I saw a note this morning from Mr. Letterblair
 to Mamma saying that he was going to Washington tomorrow for the big
-patent case that he was to argue before the Supreme Court.  You said it
+patent case that he was to argue before the Supreme Court. You said it
 was a patent case, didn't you?"
 
-"Well--that's it: the whole office can't go.  Letterblair decided to go
+"Well--that's it: the whole office can't go. Letterblair decided to go
 this morning."
 
-"Then it's NOT postponed?" she continued, with an insistence so unlike
+"Then it's _not_ postponed?" she continued, with an insistence so unlike
 her that he felt the blood rising to his face, as if he were blushing
 for her unwonted lapse from all the traditional delicacies.
 
 "No: but my going is," he answered, cursing the unnecessary
 explanations that he had given when he had announced his intention of
 going to Washington, and wondering where he had read that clever liars
-give details, but that the cleverest do not.  It did not hurt him half
+give details, but that the cleverest do not. It did not hurt him half
 as much to tell May an untruth as to see her trying to pretend that she
 had not detected him.
 
 "I'm not going till later on: luckily for the convenience of your
-family," he continued, taking base refuge in sarcasm.  As he spoke he
-felt that she was looking at him, and he turned his eyes to hers in
-order not to appear to be avoiding them.  Their glances met for a
+family," he continued, taking base refuge in sarcasm. As he spoke
+he felt that she was looking at him, and he turned his eyes to hers
+in order not to appear to be avoiding them. Their glances met for a
 second, and perhaps let them into each other's meanings more deeply
 than either cared to go.
 
-"Yes; it IS awfully convenient," May brightly agreed, "that you should
+"Yes; it _is_ awfully convenient," May brightly agreed, "that you should
 be able to meet Ellen after all; you saw how much Mamma appreciated
 your offering to do it."
 
-"Oh, I'm delighted to do it."  The carriage stopped, and as he jumped
-out she leaned to him and laid her hand on his.  "Good-bye, dearest,"
+"Oh, I'm delighted to do it." The carriage stopped, and as he jumped
+out she leaned to him and laid her hand on his. "Good-bye, dearest,"
 she said, her eyes so blue that he wondered afterward if they had shone
 on him through tears.
 
 He turned away and hurried across Union Square, repeating to himself,
-in a sort of inward chant:  "It's all of two hours from Jersey City to
-old Catherine's.  It's all of two hours--and it may be more."
+in a sort of inward chant: "It's all of two hours from Jersey City to
+old Catherine's. It's all of two hours--and it may be more."
+
 
 
 
 XXIX.
 
-His wife's dark blue brougham (with the wedding varnish still on it)
-met Archer at the ferry, and conveyed him luxuriously to the
+
+His wife's dark blue brougham (with the wedding varnish still on
+it) met Archer at the ferry, and conveyed him luxuriously to the
 Pennsylvania terminus in Jersey City.
 
-It was a sombre snowy afternoon, and the gas-lamps were lit in the big
-reverberating station.  As he paced the platform, waiting for the
+It was a sombre snowy afternoon, and the gas-lamps were lit in the
+big reverberating station. As he paced the platform, waiting for the
 Washington express, he remembered that there were people who thought
 there would one day be a tunnel under the Hudson through which the
 trains of the Pennsylvania railway would run straight into New York.
-They were of the brotherhood of visionaries who likewise predicted the
-building of ships that would cross the Atlantic in five days, the
+They were of the brotherhood of visionaries who likewise predicted
+the building of ships that would cross the Atlantic in five days, the
 invention of a flying machine, lighting by electricity, telephonic
 communication without wires, and other Arabian Night marvels.
 
 "I don't care which of their visions comes true," Archer mused, "as
-long as the tunnel isn't built yet."  In his senseless school-boy
+long as the tunnel isn't built yet." In his senseless school-boy
 happiness he pictured Madame Olenska's descent from the train, his
 discovery of her a long way off, among the throngs of meaningless
-faces, her clinging to his arm as he guided her to the carriage, their
-slow approach to the wharf among slipping horses, laden carts,
+faces, her clinging to his arm as he guided her to the carriage,
+their slow approach to the wharf among slipping horses, laden carts,
 vociferating teamsters, and then the startling quiet of the ferry-boat,
 where they would sit side by side under the snow, in the motionless
 carriage, while the earth seemed to glide away under them, rolling to
-the other side of the sun.  It was incredible, the number of things he
-had to say to her, and in what eloquent order they were forming
+the other side of the sun. It was incredible, the number of things
+he had to say to her, and in what eloquent order they were forming
 themselves on his lips ...
 
 The clanging and groaning of the train came nearer, and it staggered
-slowly into the station like a prey-laden monster into its lair.
-Archer pushed forward, elbowing through the crowd, and staring blindly
-into window after window of the high-hung carriages.  And then,
-suddenly, he saw Madame Olenska's pale and surprised face close at
-hand, and had again the mortified sensation of having forgotten what
-she looked like.
+slowly into the station like a prey-laden monster into its lair. Archer
+pushed forward, elbowing through the crowd, and staring blindly into
+window after window of the high-hung carriages. And then, suddenly, he
+saw Madame Olenska's pale and surprised face close at hand, and had
+again the mortified sensation of having forgotten what she looked like.
 
 They reached each other, their hands met, and he drew her arm through
-his.  "This way--I have the carriage," he said.
+his. "This way--I have the carriage," he said.
 
-After that it all happened as he had dreamed.  He helped her into the
+After that it all happened as he had dreamed. He helped her into the
 brougham with her bags, and had afterward the vague recollection of
 having properly reassured her about her grandmother and given her a
 summary of the Beaufort situation (he was struck by the softness of
-her:  "Poor Regina!").  Meanwhile the carriage had worked its way out
-of the coil about the station, and they were crawling down the slippery
+her: "Poor Regina!"). Meanwhile the carriage had worked its way out of
+the coil about the station, and they were crawling down the slippery
 incline to the wharf, menaced by swaying coal-carts, bewildered horses,
-dishevelled express-wagons, and an empty hearse--ah, that hearse!  She
+dishevelled express-wagons, and an empty hearse--ah, that hearse! She
 shut her eyes as it passed, and clutched at Archer's hand.
 
 "If only it doesn't mean--poor Granny!"
 
-"Oh, no, no--she's much better--she's all right, really.  There--we've
-passed it!" he exclaimed, as if that made all the difference.  Her hand
+"Oh, no, no--she's much better--she's all right, really. There--we've
+passed it!" he exclaimed, as if that made all the difference. Her hand
 remained in his, and as the carriage lurched across the gang-plank onto
 the ferry he bent over, unbuttoned her tight brown glove, and kissed
-her palm as if he had kissed a relic.  She disengaged herself with a
+her palm as if he had kissed a relic. She disengaged herself with a
 faint smile, and he said: "You didn't expect me today?"
 
 "Oh, no."
 
-"I meant to go to Washington to see you.  I'd made all my
+"I meant to go to Washington to see you. I'd made all my
 arrangements--I very nearly crossed you in the train."
 
 "Oh--" she exclaimed, as if terrified by the narrowness of their escape.
@@ -9040,10 +9024,10 @@ arrangements--I very nearly crossed you in the train."
 
 "Hardly remembered me?"
 
-"I mean: how shall I explain?  I--it's always so.  EACH TIME YOU HAPPEN
-TO ME ALL OVER AGAIN."
+"I mean: how shall I explain? I--it's always so. _Each time you happen
+to me all over again._"
 
-"Oh, yes: I know!  I know!"
+"Oh, yes: I know! I know!"
 
 "Does it--do I too: to you?" he insisted.
 
@@ -9052,35 +9036,35 @@ She nodded, looking out of the window.
 "Ellen--Ellen--Ellen!"
 
 She made no answer, and he sat in silence, watching her profile grow
-indistinct against the snow-streaked dusk beyond the window.  What had
-she been doing in all those four long months, he wondered?  How little
-they knew of each other, after all!  The precious moments were slipping
+indistinct against the snow-streaked dusk beyond the window. What had
+she been doing in all those four long months, he wondered? How little
+they knew of each other, after all! The precious moments were slipping
 away, but he had forgotten everything that he had meant to say to her
-and could only helplessly brood on the mystery of their remoteness and
-their proximity, which seemed to be symbolised by the fact of their
-sitting so close to each other, and yet being unable to see each
+and could only helplessly brood on the mystery of their remoteness
+and their proximity, which seemed to be symbolised by the fact of
+their sitting so close to each other, and yet being unable to see each
 other's faces.
 
-"What a pretty carriage!  Is it May's?" she asked, suddenly turning her
+"What a pretty carriage! Is it May's?" she asked, suddenly turning her
 face from the window.
 
 "Yes."
 
-"It was May who sent you to fetch me, then?  How kind of her!"
+"It was May who sent you to fetch me, then? How kind of her!"
 
-He made no answer for a moment; then he said explosively:  "Your
+He made no answer for a moment; then he said explosively: "Your
 husband's secretary came to see me the day after we met in Boston."
 
-In his brief letter to her he had made no allusion to M. Riviere's
+In his brief letter to her he had made no allusion to M. Rivière's
 visit, and his intention had been to bury the incident in his bosom.
-But her reminder that they were in his wife's carriage provoked him to
-an impulse of retaliation.  He would see if she liked his reference to
-Riviere any better than he liked hers to May!  As on certain other
+But her reminder that they were in his wife's carriage provoked him
+to an impulse of retaliation. He would see if she liked his reference
+to Rivière any better than he liked hers to May! As on certain other
 occasions when he had expected to shake her out of her usual composure,
-she betrayed no sign of surprise: and at once he concluded:  "He writes
+she betrayed no sign of surprise: and at once he concluded: "He writes
 to her, then."
 
-"M. Riviere went to see you?"
+"M. Rivière went to see you?"
 
 "Yes: didn't you know?"
 
@@ -9088,24 +9072,24 @@ to her, then."
 
 "And you're not surprised?"
 
-She hesitated.  "Why should I be?  He told me in Boston that he knew
-you; that he'd met you in England I think."
+She hesitated. "Why should I be? He told me in Boston that he knew you;
+that he'd met you in England I think."
 
 "Ellen--I must ask you one thing."
 
 "Yes."
 
 "I wanted to ask it after I saw him, but I couldn't put it in a letter.
-It was Riviere who helped you to get away--when you left your husband?"
+It was Rivière who helped you to get away--when you left your husband?"
 
-His heart was beating suffocatingly.  Would she meet this question with
+His heart was beating suffocatingly. Would she meet this question with
 the same composure?
 
 "Yes: I owe him a great debt," she answered, without the least tremor
 in her quiet voice.
 
 Her tone was so natural, so almost indifferent, that Archer's turmoil
-subsided.  Once more she had managed, by her sheer simplicity, to make
+subsided. Once more she had managed, by her sheer simplicity, to make
 him feel stupidly conventional just when he thought he was flinging
 convention to the winds.
 
@@ -9116,18 +9100,18 @@ her voice.
 
 "Call it what you like: you look at things as they are."
 
-"Ah--I've had to.  I've had to look at the Gorgon."
+"Ah--I've had to. I've had to look at the Gorgon."
 
-"Well--it hasn't blinded you!  You've seen that she's just an old bogey
+"Well--it hasn't blinded you! You've seen that she's just an old bogey
 like all the others."
 
 "She doesn't blind one; but she dries up one's tears."
 
 The answer checked the pleading on Archer's lips: it seemed to come
-from depths of experience beyond his reach.  The slow advance of the
+from depths of experience beyond his reach. The slow advance of the
 ferry-boat had ceased, and her bows bumped against the piles of the
 slip with a violence that made the brougham stagger, and flung Archer
-and Madame Olenska against each other.  The young man, trembling, felt
+and Madame Olenska against each other. The young man, trembling, felt
 the pressure of her shoulder, and passed his arm about her.
 
 "If you're not blind, then, you must see that this can't last."
@@ -9136,22 +9120,22 @@ the pressure of her shoulder, and passed his arm about her.
 
 "Our being together--and not together."
 
-"No.  You ought not to have come today," she said in an altered voice;
+"No. You ought not to have come today," she said in an altered voice;
 and suddenly she turned, flung her arms about him and pressed her lips
-to his.  At the same moment the carriage began to move, and a gas-lamp
-at the head of the slip flashed its light into the window.  She drew
+to his. At the same moment the carriage began to move, and a gas-lamp
+at the head of the slip flashed its light into the window. She drew
 away, and they sat silent and motionless while the brougham struggled
-through the congestion of carriages about the ferry-landing.  As they
+through the congestion of carriages about the ferry-landing. As they
 gained the street Archer began to speak hurriedly.
 
 "Don't be afraid of me: you needn't squeeze yourself back into your
-corner like that.  A stolen kiss isn't what I want.  Look: I'm not even
-trying to touch the sleeve of your jacket.  Don't suppose that I don't
+corner like that. A stolen kiss isn't what I want. Look: I'm not even
+trying to touch the sleeve of your jacket. Don't suppose that I don't
 understand your reasons for not wanting to let this feeling between us
-dwindle into an ordinary hole-and-corner love-affair.  I couldn't have
+dwindle into an ordinary hole-and-corner love-affair. I couldn't have
 spoken like this yesterday, because when we've been apart, and I'm
 looking forward to seeing you, every thought is burnt up in a great
-flame.  But then you come; and you're so much more than I remembered,
+flame. But then you come; and you're so much more than I remembered,
 and what I want of you is so much more than an hour or two every now
 and then, with wastes of thirsty waiting between, that I can sit
 perfectly still beside you, like this, with that other vision in my
@@ -9162,21 +9146,21 @@ For a moment she made no reply; then she asked, hardly above a whisper:
 
 "Why--you know it will, don't you?"
 
-"Your vision of you and me together?"  She burst into a sudden hard
-laugh.  "You choose your place well to put it to me!"
+"Your vision of you and me together?" She burst into a sudden hard
+laugh. "You choose your place well to put it to me!"
 
-"Do you mean because we're in my wife's brougham?  Shall we get out and
-walk, then?  I don't suppose you mind a little snow?"
+"Do you mean because we're in my wife's brougham? Shall we get out and
+walk, then? I don't suppose you mind a little snow?"
 
-She laughed again, more gently.  "No; I shan't get out and walk,
-because my business is to get to Granny's as quickly as I can.  And
-you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities."
+She laughed again, more gently. "No; I shan't get out and walk, because
+my business is to get to Granny's as quickly as I can. And you'll sit
+beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities."
 
-"I don't know what you mean by realities.  The only reality to me is
+"I don't know what you mean by realities. The only reality to me is
 this."
 
-She met the words with a long silence, during which the carriage rolled
-down an obscure side-street and then turned into the searching
+She met the words with a long silence, during which the carriage
+rolled down an obscure side-street and then turned into the searching
 illumination of Fifth Avenue.
 
 "Is it your idea, then, that I should live with you as your
@@ -9184,19 +9168,19 @@ mistress--since I can't be your wife?" she asked.
 
 The crudeness of the question startled him: the word was one that women
 of his class fought shy of, even when their talk flitted closest about
-the topic.  He noticed that Madame Olenska pronounced it as if it had a
+the topic. He noticed that Madame Olenska pronounced it as if it had a
 recognised place in her vocabulary, and he wondered if it had been used
-familiarly in her presence in the horrible life she had fled from.  Her
+familiarly in her presence in the horrible life she had fled from. Her
 question pulled him up with a jerk, and he floundered.
 
 "I want--I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words
-like that--categories like that--won't exist.  Where we shall be simply
+like that--categories like that--won't exist. Where we shall be simply
 two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each
 other; and nothing else on earth will matter."
 
-She drew a deep sigh that ended in another laugh.  "Oh, my dear--where
-is that country?  Have you ever been there?" she asked; and as he
-remained sullenly dumb she went on:  "I know so many who've tried to
+She drew a deep sigh that ended in another laugh. "Oh, my dear--where
+is that country? Have you ever been there?" she asked; and as he
+remained sullenly dumb she went on: "I know so many who've tried to
 find it; and, believe me, they all got out by mistake at wayside
 stations: at places like Boulogne, or Pisa, or Monte Carlo--and it
 wasn't at all different from the old world they'd left, but only rather
@@ -9205,108 +9189,110 @@ smaller and dingier and more promiscuous."
 He had never heard her speak in such a tone, and he remembered the
 phrase she had used a little while before.
 
-"Yes, the Gorgon HAS dried your tears," he said.
+"Yes, the Gorgon _has_ dried your tears," he said.
 
 "Well, she opened my eyes too; it's a delusion to say that she blinds
-people.  What she does is just the contrary--she fastens their eyelids
-open, so that they're never again in the blessed darkness.  Isn't there
-a Chinese torture like that?  There ought to be.  Ah, believe me, it's
-a miserable little country!"
+people. What she does is just the contrary--she fastens their eyelids
+open, so that they're never again in the blessed darkness. Isn't there
+a Chinese torture like that? There ought to be. Ah, believe me, it's a
+miserable little country!"
 
 The carriage had crossed Forty-second Street: May's sturdy
 brougham-horse was carrying them northward as if he had been a Kentucky
-trotter.  Archer choked with the sense of wasted minutes and vain words.
+trotter. Archer choked with the sense of wasted minutes and vain words.
 
 "Then what, exactly, is your plan for us?" he asked.
 
-"For US?  But there's no US in that sense!  We're near each other only
-if we stay far from each other.  Then we can be ourselves.  Otherwise
-we're only Newland Archer, the husband of Ellen Olenska's cousin, and
-Ellen Olenska, the cousin of Newland Archer's wife, trying to be happy
-behind the backs of the people who trust them."
+"For _us_? But there's no _us_ in that sense! We're near each other only if
+we stay far from each other. Then we can be ourselves. Otherwise we're
+only Newland Archer, the husband of Ellen Olenska's cousin, and Ellen
+Olenska, the cousin of Newland Archer's wife, trying to be happy behind
+the backs of the people who trust them."
 
 "Ah, I'm beyond that," he groaned.
 
-"No, you're not!  You've never been beyond.  And I have," she said, in
-a strange voice, "and I know what it looks like there."
+"No, you're not! You've never been beyond. And I have," she said, in a
+strange voice, "and I know what it looks like there."
 
-He sat silent, dazed with inarticulate pain.  Then he groped in the
-darkness of the carriage for the little bell that signalled orders to
-the coachman.  He remembered that May rang twice when she wished to
-stop.  He pressed the bell, and the carriage drew up beside the
+He sat silent, dazed with inarticulate pain. Then he groped in the
+darkness of the carriage for the little bell that signalled orders
+to the coachman. He remembered that May rang twice when she wished
+to stop. He pressed the bell, and the carriage drew up beside the
 curbstone.
 
-"Why are we stopping?  This is not Granny's," Madame Olenska exclaimed.
+"Why are we stopping? This is not Granny's," Madame Olenska exclaimed.
 
 "No: I shall get out here," he stammered, opening the door and jumping
-to the pavement.  By the light of a street-lamp he saw her startled
-face, and the instinctive motion she made to detain him.  He closed the
+to the pavement. By the light of a street-lamp he saw her startled
+face, and the instinctive motion she made to detain him. He closed the
 door, and leaned for a moment in the window.
 
 "You're right: I ought not to have come today," he said, lowering his
-voice so that the coachman should not hear.  She bent forward, and
+voice so that the coachman should not hear. She bent forward, and
 seemed about to speak; but he had already called out the order to drive
-on, and the carriage rolled away while he stood on the corner.  The
-snow was over, and a tingling wind had sprung up, that lashed his face
-as he stood gazing.  Suddenly he felt something stiff and cold on his
-lashes, and perceived that he had been crying, and that the wind had
-frozen his tears.
+on, and the carriage rolled away while he stood on the corner. The snow
+was over, and a tingling wind had sprung up, that lashed his face as he
+stood gazing. Suddenly he felt something stiff and cold on his lashes,
+and perceived that he had been crying, and that the wind had frozen his
+tears.
 
 He thrust his hands in his pockets, and walked at a sharp pace down
 Fifth Avenue to his own house.
 
 
 
+
 XXX.
 
+
 That evening when Archer came down before dinner he found the
 drawing-room empty.
 
 He and May were dining alone, all the family engagements having been
 postponed since Mrs. Manson Mingott's illness; and as May was the more
-punctual of the two he was surprised that she had not preceded him.  He
+punctual of the two he was surprised that she had not preceded him. He
 knew that she was at home, for while he dressed he had heard her moving
 about in her room; and he wondered what had delayed her.
 
 He had fallen into the way of dwelling on such conjectures as a means
-of tying his thoughts fast to reality.  Sometimes he felt as if he had
+of tying his thoughts fast to reality. Sometimes he felt as if he had
 found the clue to his father-in-law's absorption in trifles; perhaps
 even Mr. Welland, long ago, had had escapes and visions, and had
 conjured up all the hosts of domesticity to defend himself against them.
 
-When May appeared he thought she looked tired.  She had put on the
+When May appeared he thought she looked tired. She had put on the
 low-necked and tightly-laced dinner-dress which the Mingott ceremonial
 exacted on the most informal occasions, and had built her fair hair
 into its usual accumulated coils; and her face, in contrast, was wan
-and almost faded.  But she shone on him with her usual tenderness, and
+and almost faded. But she shone on him with her usual tenderness, and
 her eyes had kept the blue dazzle of the day before.
 
-"What became of you, dear?" she asked.  "I was waiting at Granny's, and
+"What became of you, dear?" she asked. "I was waiting at Granny's, and
 Ellen came alone, and said she had dropped you on the way because you
-had to rush off on business.  There's nothing wrong?"
+had to rush off on business. There's nothing wrong?"
 
 "Only some letters I'd forgotten, and wanted to get off before dinner."
 
-"Ah--" she said; and a moment afterward:  "I'm sorry you didn't come to
+"Ah--" she said; and a moment afterward: "I'm sorry you didn't come to
 Granny's--unless the letters were urgent."
 
-"They were," he rejoined, surprised at her insistence.  "Besides, I
-don't see why I should have gone to your grandmother's.  I didn't know
+"They were," he rejoined, surprised at her insistence. "Besides, I
+don't see why I should have gone to your grandmother's. I didn't know
 you were there."
 
-She turned and moved to the looking-glass above the mantel-piece.  As
-she stood there, lifting her long arm to fasten a puff that had slipped
-from its place in her intricate hair, Archer was struck by something
-languid and inelastic in her attitude, and wondered if the deadly
-monotony of their lives had laid its weight on her also.  Then he
+She turned and moved to the looking-glass above the mantel-piece.
+As she stood there, lifting her long arm to fasten a puff that had
+slipped from its place in her intricate hair, Archer was struck by
+something languid and inelastic in her attitude, and wondered if the
+deadly monotony of their lives had laid its weight on her also. Then he
 remembered that, as he had left the house that morning, she had called
 over the stairs that she would meet him at her grandmother's so that
-they might drive home together.  He had called back a cheery "Yes!" and
-then, absorbed in other visions, had forgotten his promise.  Now he was
+they might drive home together. He had called back a cheery "Yes!" and
+then, absorbed in other visions, had forgotten his promise. Now he was
 smitten with compunction, yet irritated that so trifling an omission
-should be stored up against him after nearly two years of marriage.  He
-was weary of living in a perpetual tepid honeymoon, without the
-temperature of passion yet with all its exactions.  If May had spoken
+should be stored up against him after nearly two years of marriage.
+He was weary of living in a perpetual tepid honeymoon, without the
+temperature of passion yet with all its exactions. If May had spoken
 out her grievances (he suspected her of many) he might have laughed
 them away; but she was trained to conceal imaginary wounds under a
 Spartan smile.
@@ -9317,29 +9303,29 @@ disturbed by the last news about the Beauforts.
 
 "What news?"
 
-"It seems they're going to stay in New York.  I believe he's going into
-an insurance business, or something.  They're looking about for a small
+"It seems they're going to stay in New York. I believe he's going into
+an insurance business, or something. They're looking about for a small
 house."
 
 The preposterousness of the case was beyond discussion, and they went
-in to dinner.  During dinner their talk moved in its usual limited
+in to dinner. During dinner their talk moved in its usual limited
 circle; but Archer noticed that his wife made no allusion to Madame
-Olenska, nor to old Catherine's reception of her.  He was thankful for
+Olenska, nor to old Catherine's reception of her. He was thankful for
 the fact, yet felt it to be vaguely ominous.
 
 They went up to the library for coffee, and Archer lit a cigar and took
-down a volume of Michelet.  He had taken to history in the evenings
+down a volume of Michelet. He had taken to history in the evenings
 since May had shown a tendency to ask him to read aloud whenever she
-saw him with a volume of poetry: not that he disliked the sound of his
-own voice, but because he could always foresee her comments on what he
-read.  In the days of their engagement she had simply (as he now
-perceived) echoed what he told her; but since he had ceased to provide
-her with opinions she had begun to hazard her own, with results
+saw him with a volume of poetry: not that he disliked the sound of
+his own voice, but because he could always foresee her comments on
+what he read. In the days of their engagement she had simply (as he
+now perceived) echoed what he told her; but since he had ceased to
+provide her with opinions she had begun to hazard her own, with results
 destructive to his enjoyment of the works commented on.
 
 Seeing that he had chosen history she fetched her workbasket, drew up
 an arm-chair to the green-shaded student lamp, and uncovered a cushion
-she was embroidering for his sofa.  She was not a clever needle-woman;
+she was embroidering for his sofa. She was not a clever needle-woman;
 her large capable hands were made for riding, rowing and open-air
 activities; but since other wives embroidered cushions for their
 husbands she did not wish to omit this last link in her devotion.
@@ -9348,15 +9334,15 @@ She was so placed that Archer, by merely raising his eyes, could see
 her bent above her work-frame, her ruffled elbow-sleeves slipping back
 from her firm round arms, the betrothal sapphire shining on her left
 hand above her broad gold wedding-ring, and the right hand slowly and
-laboriously stabbing the canvas.  As she sat thus, the lamplight full
+laboriously stabbing the canvas. As she sat thus, the lamplight full
 on her clear brow, he said to himself with a secret dismay that he
 would always know the thoughts behind it, that never, in all the years
-to come, would she surprise him by an unexpected mood, by a new idea, a
-weakness, a cruelty or an emotion.  She had spent her poetry and
+to come, would she surprise him by an unexpected mood, by a new idea,
+a weakness, a cruelty or an emotion. She had spent her poetry and
 romance on their short courting: the function was exhausted because the
-need was past.  Now she was simply ripening into a copy of her mother,
+need was past. Now she was simply ripening into a copy of her mother,
 and mysteriously, by the very process, trying to turn him into a Mr.
-Welland.  He laid down his book and stood up impatiently; and at once
+Welland. He laid down his book and stood up impatiently; and at once
 she raised her head.
 
 "What's the matter?"
@@ -9367,99 +9353,99 @@ He had insisted that the library curtains should draw backward and
 forward on a rod, so that they might be closed in the evening, instead
 of remaining nailed to a gilt cornice, and immovably looped up over
 layers of lace, as in the drawing-room; and he pulled them back and
-pushed up the sash, leaning out into the icy night.  The mere fact of
+pushed up the sash, leaning out into the icy night. The mere fact of
 not looking at May, seated beside his table, under his lamp, the fact
 of seeing other houses, roofs, chimneys, of getting the sense of other
 lives outside his own, other cities beyond New York, and a whole world
 beyond his world, cleared his brain and made it easier to breathe.
 
 After he had leaned out into the darkness for a few minutes he heard
-her say:  "Newland!  Do shut the window.  You'll catch your death."
+her say: "Newland! Do shut the window. You'll catch your death."
 
-He pulled the sash down and turned back.  "Catch my death!" he echoed;
-and he felt like adding:  "But I've caught it already.  I AM dead--I've
+He pulled the sash down and turned back. "Catch my death!" he echoed;
+and he felt like adding: "But I've caught it already. I _am_ dead--I've
 been dead for months and months."
 
-And suddenly the play of the word flashed up a wild suggestion.  What
-if it were SHE who was dead!  If she were going to die--to die
-soon--and leave him free!  The sensation of standing there, in that
-warm familiar room, and looking at her, and wishing her dead, was so
-strange, so fascinating and overmastering, that its enormity did not
-immediately strike him.  He simply felt that chance had given him a new
-possibility to which his sick soul might cling.  Yes, May might
-die--people did: young people, healthy people like herself: she might
-die, and set him suddenly free.
+And suddenly the play of the word flashed up a wild suggestion. What if
+it were _she_ who was dead! If she were going to die--to die soon--and
+leave him free! The sensation of standing there, in that warm familiar
+room, and looking at her, and wishing her dead, was so strange, so
+fascinating and overmastering, that its enormity did not immediately
+strike him. He simply felt that chance had given him a new possibility
+to which his sick soul might cling. Yes, May might die--people did:
+young people, healthy people like herself: she might die, and set him
+suddenly free.
 
 She glanced up, and he saw by her widening eyes that there must be
 something strange in his own.
 
-"Newland!  Are you ill?"
+"Newland! Are you ill?"
 
-He shook his head and turned toward his arm-chair.  She bent over her
-work-frame, and as he passed he laid his hand on her hair.  "Poor May!"
+He shook his head and turned toward his arm-chair. She bent over her
+work-frame, and as he passed he laid his hand on her hair. "Poor May!"
 he said.
 
-"Poor?  Why poor?" she echoed with a strained laugh.
+"Poor? Why poor?" she echoed with a strained laugh.
 
 "Because I shall never be able to open a window without worrying you,"
 he rejoined, laughing also.
 
 For a moment she was silent; then she said very low, her head bowed
-over her work:  "I shall never worry if you're happy."
+over her work: "I shall never worry if you're happy."
 
 "Ah, my dear; and I shall never be happy unless I can open the windows!"
 
-"In THIS weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh he buried his head
+"In _this_ weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh he buried his head
 in his book.
 
-Six or seven days passed.  Archer heard nothing from Madame Olenska,
+Six or seven days passed. Archer heard nothing from Madame Olenska,
 and became aware that her name would not be mentioned in his presence
-by any member of the family.  He did not try to see her; to do so while
+by any member of the family. He did not try to see her; to do so while
 she was at old Catherine's guarded bedside would have been almost
-impossible.  In the uncertainty of the situation he let himself drift,
+impossible. In the uncertainty of the situation he let himself drift,
 conscious, somewhere below the surface of his thoughts, of a resolve
 which had come to him when he had leaned out from his library window
-into the icy night.  The strength of that resolve made it easy to wait
+into the icy night. The strength of that resolve made it easy to wait
 and make no sign.
 
 Then one day May told him that Mrs. Manson Mingott had asked to see
-him.  There was nothing surprising in the request, for the old lady was
-steadily recovering, and she had always openly declared that she
-preferred Archer to any of her other grandsons-in-law.  May gave the
-message with evident pleasure: she was proud of old Catherine's
+him. There was nothing surprising in the request, for the old lady
+was steadily recovering, and she had always openly declared that
+she preferred Archer to any of her other grandsons-in-law. May gave
+the message with evident pleasure: she was proud of old Catherine's
 appreciation of her husband.
 
 There was a moment's pause, and then Archer felt it incumbent on him to
-say:  "All right.  Shall we go together this afternoon?"
+say: "All right. Shall we go together this afternoon?"
 
 His wife's face brightened, but she instantly answered: "Oh, you'd much
-better go alone.  It bores Granny to see the same people too often."
+better go alone. It bores Granny to see the same people too often."
 
 Archer's heart was beating violently when he rang old Mrs. Mingott's
-bell.  He had wanted above all things to go alone, for he felt sure the
+bell. He had wanted above all things to go alone, for he felt sure the
 visit would give him the chance of saying a word in private to the
-Countess Olenska.  He had determined to wait till the chance presented
+Countess Olenska. He had determined to wait till the chance presented
 itself naturally; and here it was, and here he was on the doorstep.
 Behind the door, behind the curtains of the yellow damask room next to
 the hall, she was surely awaiting him; in another moment he should see
 her, and be able to speak to her before she led him to the sick-room.
 
 He wanted only to put one question: after that his course would be
-clear.  What he wished to ask was simply the date of her return to
+clear. What he wished to ask was simply the date of her return to
 Washington; and that question she could hardly refuse to answer.
 
-But in the yellow sitting-room it was the mulatto maid who waited.  Her
+But in the yellow sitting-room it was the mulatto maid who waited. Her
 white teeth shining like a keyboard, she pushed back the sliding doors
 and ushered him into old Catherine's presence.
 
-The old woman sat in a vast throne-like arm-chair near her bed.  Beside
+The old woman sat in a vast throne-like arm-chair near her bed. Beside
 her was a mahogany stand bearing a cast bronze lamp with an engraved
-globe, over which a green paper shade had been balanced.  There was not
-a book or a newspaper in reach, nor any evidence of feminine
+globe, over which a green paper shade had been balanced. There was
+not a book or a newspaper in reach, nor any evidence of feminine
 employment: conversation had always been Mrs. Mingott's sole pursuit,
 and she would have scorned to feign an interest in fancywork.
 
-Archer saw no trace of the slight distortion left by her stroke.  She
+Archer saw no trace of the slight distortion left by her stroke. She
 merely looked paler, with darker shadows in the folds and recesses of
 her obesity; and, in the fluted mob-cap tied by a starched bow between
 her first two chins, and the muslin kerchief crossed over her billowing
@@ -9468,13 +9454,13 @@ of her own who might have yielded too freely to the pleasures of the
 table.
 
 She held out one of the little hands that nestled in a hollow of her
-huge lap like pet animals, and called to the maid:  "Don't let in any
-one else.  If my daughters call, say I'm asleep."
+huge lap like pet animals, and called to the maid: "Don't let in any
+one else. If my daughters call, say I'm asleep."
 
 The maid disappeared, and the old lady turned to her grandson.
 
 "My dear, am I perfectly hideous?" she asked gaily, launching out one
-hand in search of the folds of muslin on her inaccessible bosom.  "My
+hand in search of the folds of muslin on her inaccessible bosom. "My
 daughters tell me it doesn't matter at my age--as if hideousness didn't
 matter all the more the harder it gets to conceal!"
 
@@ -9482,68 +9468,68 @@ matter all the more the harder it gets to conceal!"
 tone; and she threw back her head and laughed.
 
 "Ah, but not as handsome as Ellen!" she jerked out, twinkling at him
-maliciously; and before he could answer she added:  "Was she so awfully
+maliciously; and before he could answer she added: "Was she so awfully
 handsome the day you drove her up from the ferry?"
 
-He laughed, and she continued:  "Was it because you told her so that
-she had to put you out on the way?  In my youth young men didn't desert
-pretty women unless they were made to!"  She gave another chuckle, and
-interrupted it to say almost querulously:  "It's a pity she didn't
-marry you; I always told her so.  It would have spared me all this
-worry.  But who ever thought of sparing their grandmother worry?"
+He laughed, and she continued: "Was it because you told her so that
+she had to put you out on the way? In my youth young men didn't desert
+pretty women unless they were made to!" She gave another chuckle, and
+interrupted it to say almost querulously: "It's a pity she didn't marry
+you; I always told her so. It would have spared me all this worry. But
+who ever thought of sparing their grandmother worry?"
 
 Archer wondered if her illness had blurred her faculties; but suddenly
-she broke out:  "Well, it's settled, anyhow: she's going to stay with
-me, whatever the rest of the family say!  She hadn't been here five
+she broke out: "Well, it's settled, anyhow: she's going to stay with
+me, whatever the rest of the family say! She hadn't been here five
 minutes before I'd have gone down on my knees to keep her--if only, for
 the last twenty years, I'd been able to see where the floor was!"
 
-Archer listened in silence, and she went on:  "They'd talked me over,
-as no doubt you know: persuaded me, Lovell, and Letterblair, and
-Augusta Welland, and all the rest of them, that I must hold out and cut
-off her allowance, till she was made to see that it was her duty to go
-back to Olenski.  They thought they'd convinced me when the secretary,
-or whatever he was, came out with the last proposals: handsome
-proposals I confess they were.  After all, marriage is marriage, and
-money's money--both useful things in their way ... and I didn't know
-what to answer--"  She broke off and drew a long breath, as if speaking
-had become an effort.  "But the minute I laid eyes on her, I said:
-'You sweet bird, you!  Shut you up in that cage again?  Never!'  And
-now it's settled that she's to stay here and nurse her Granny as long
-as there's a Granny to nurse.  It's not a gay prospect, but she doesn't
-mind; and of course I've told Letterblair that she's to be given her
-proper allowance."
-
-The young man heard her with veins aglow; but in his confusion of mind
-he hardly knew whether her news brought joy or pain.  He had so
+Archer listened in silence, and she went on: "They'd talked me over, as
+no doubt you know: persuaded me, Lovell, and Letterblair, and Augusta
+Welland, and all the rest of them, that I must hold out and cut off her
+allowance, till she was made to see that it was her duty to go back
+to Olenski. They thought they'd convinced me when the secretary, or
+whatever he was, came out with the last proposals: handsome proposals
+I confess they were. After all, marriage is marriage, and money's
+money--both useful things in their way ... and I didn't know what to
+answer--" She broke off and drew a long breath, as if speaking had
+become an effort. "But the minute I laid eyes on her, I said: 'You
+sweet bird, you! Shut you up in that cage again? Never!' And now it's
+settled that she's to stay here and nurse her Granny as long as there's
+a Granny to nurse. It's not a gay prospect, but she doesn't mind; and
+of course I've told Letterblair that she's to be given her proper
+allowance."
+
+The young man heard her with veins aglow; but in his confusion of
+mind he hardly knew whether her news brought joy or pain. He had so
 definitely decided on the course he meant to pursue that for the moment
-he could not readjust his thoughts.  But gradually there stole over him
-the delicious sense of difficulties deferred and opportunities
-miraculously provided.  If Ellen had consented to come and live with
+he could not readjust his thoughts. But gradually there stole over
+him the delicious sense of difficulties deferred and opportunities
+miraculously provided. If Ellen had consented to come and live with
 her grandmother it must surely be because she had recognised the
-impossibility of giving him up.  This was her answer to his final
+impossibility of giving him up. This was her answer to his final
 appeal of the other day: if she would not take the extreme step he had
-urged, she had at last yielded to half-measures.  He sank back into the
+urged, she had at last yielded to half-measures. He sank back into the
 thought with the involuntary relief of a man who has been ready to risk
 everything, and suddenly tastes the dangerous sweetness of security.
 
 "She couldn't have gone back--it was impossible!" he exclaimed.
 
 "Ah, my dear, I always knew you were on her side; and that's why I sent
-for you today, and why I said to your pretty wife, when she proposed to
-come with you: 'No, my dear, I'm pining to see Newland, and I don't
-want anybody to share our transports.'  For you see, my dear--" she
-drew her head back as far as its tethering chins permitted, and looked
-him full in the eyes--"you see, we shall have a fight yet.  The family
-don't want her here, and they'll say it's because I've been ill,
-because I'm a weak old woman, that she's persuaded me.  I'm not well
-enough yet to fight them one by one, and you've got to do it for me."
+for you today, and why I said to your pretty wife, when she proposed
+to come with you: 'No, my dear, I'm pining to see Newland, and I don't
+want anybody to share our transports.' For you see, my dear--" she drew
+her head back as far as its tethering chins permitted, and looked him
+full in the eyes--"you see, we shall have a fight yet. The family don't
+want her here, and they'll say it's because I've been ill, because I'm
+a weak old woman, that she's persuaded me. I'm not well enough yet to
+fight them one by one, and you've got to do it for me."
 
 "I?" he stammered.
 
-"You.  Why not?" she jerked back at him, her round eyes suddenly as
-sharp as pen-knives.  Her hand fluttered from its chair-arm and lit on
-his with a clutch of little pale nails like bird-claws.  "Why not?" she
+"You. Why not?" she jerked back at him, her round eyes suddenly as
+sharp as pen-knives. Her hand fluttered from its chair-arm and lit on
+his with a clutch of little pale nails like bird-claws. "Why not?" she
 searchingly repeated.
 
 Archer, under the exposure of her gaze, had recovered his
@@ -9551,70 +9537,72 @@ self-possession.
 
 "Oh, I don't count--I'm too insignificant."
 
-"Well, you're Letterblair's partner, ain't you?  You've got to get at
-them through Letterblair.  Unless you've got a reason," she insisted.
+"Well, you're Letterblair's partner, ain't you? You've got to get at
+them through Letterblair. Unless you've got a reason," she insisted.
 
 "Oh, my dear, I back you to hold your own against them all without my
 help; but you shall have it if you need it," he reassured her.
 
 "Then we're safe!" she sighed; and smiling on him with all her ancient
-cunning she added, as she settled her head among the cushions:  "I
+cunning she added, as she settled her head among the cushions: "I
 always knew you'd back us up, because they never quote you when they
 talk about its being her duty to go home."
 
 He winced a little at her terrifying perspicacity, and longed to ask:
-"And May--do they quote her?"  But he judged it safer to turn the
+"And May--do they quote her?" But he judged it safer to turn the
 question.
 
-"And Madame Olenska?  When am I to see her?" he said.
+"And Madame Olenska? When am I to see her?" he said.
 
 The old lady chuckled, crumpled her lids, and went through the
-pantomime of archness.  "Not today.  One at a time, please.  Madame
+pantomime of archness. "Not today. One at a time, please. Madame
 Olenska's gone out."
 
 He flushed with disappointment, and she went on: "She's gone out, my
 child: gone in my carriage to see Regina Beaufort."
 
-She paused for this announcement to produce its effect.  "That's what
-she's reduced me to already.  The day after she got here she put on her
+She paused for this announcement to produce its effect. "That's what
+she's reduced me to already. The day after she got here she put on her
 best bonnet, and told me, as cool as a cucumber, that she was going to
-call on Regina Beaufort.  'I don't know her; who is she?' says I.
-'She's your grand-niece, and a most unhappy woman,' she says.  'She's
-the wife of a scoundrel,' I answered.  'Well,' she says, 'and so am I,
-and yet all my family want me to go back to him.'  Well, that floored
-me, and I let her go; and finally one day she said it was raining too
-hard to go out on foot, and she wanted me to lend her my carriage.
-'What for?' I asked her; and she said: 'To go and see cousin
-Regina'--COUSIN!  Now, my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it
-wasn't raining a drop; but I understood her, and I let her have the
-carriage....  After all, Regina's a brave woman, and so is she; and
-I've always liked courage above everything."
+call on Regina Beaufort. 'I don't know her; who is she?' says I. 'She's
+your grand-niece, and a most unhappy woman,' she says. 'She's the wife
+of a scoundrel,' I answered. 'Well,' she says, 'and so am I, and yet
+all my family want me to go back to him.' Well, that floored me, and I
+let her go; and finally one day she said it was raining too hard to go
+out on foot, and she wanted me to lend her my carriage. 'What for?' I
+asked her; and she said: 'To go and see cousin Regina'--_cousin_! Now,
+my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it wasn't raining a drop;
+but I understood her, and I let her have the carriage.... After all,
+Regina's a brave woman, and so is she; and I've always liked courage
+above everything."
 
 Archer bent down and pressed his lips on the little hand that still lay
 on his.
 
-"Eh--eh--eh!  Whose hand did you think you were kissing, young
-man--your wife's, I hope?" the old lady snapped out with her mocking
-cackle; and as he rose to go she called out after him:  "Give her her
-Granny's love; but you'd better not say anything about our talk."
+"Eh--eh--eh! Whose hand did you think you were kissing, young man--your
+wife's, I hope?" the old lady snapped out with her mocking cackle; and
+as he rose to go she called out after him: "Give her her Granny's love;
+but you'd better not say anything about our talk."
+
 
 
 
 XXXI.
 
-Archer had been stunned by old Catherine's news.  It was only natural
+
+Archer had been stunned by old Catherine's news. It was only natural
 that Madame Olenska should have hastened from Washington in response to
 her grandmother's summons; but that she should have decided to remain
 under her roof--especially now that Mrs. Mingott had almost regained
 her health--was less easy to explain.
 
 Archer was sure that Madame Olenska's decision had not been influenced
-by the change in her financial situation.  He knew the exact figure of
+by the change in her financial situation. He knew the exact figure of
 the small income which her husband had allowed her at their separation.
 Without the addition of her grandmother's allowance it was hardly
 enough to live on, in any sense known to the Mingott vocabulary; and
 now that Medora Manson, who shared her life, had been ruined, such a
-pittance would barely keep the two women clothed and fed.  Yet Archer
+pittance would barely keep the two women clothed and fed. Yet Archer
 was convinced that Madame Olenska had not accepted her grandmother's
 offer from interested motives.
 
@@ -9624,74 +9612,73 @@ go without many things which her relations considered indispensable,
 and Mrs. Lovell Mingott and Mrs. Welland had often been heard to
 deplore that any one who had enjoyed the cosmopolitan luxuries of Count
 Olenski's establishments should care so little about "how things were
-done."  Moreover, as Archer knew, several months had passed since her
+done." Moreover, as Archer knew, several months had passed since her
 allowance had been cut off; yet in the interval she had made no effort
-to regain her grandmother's favour.  Therefore if she had changed her
+to regain her grandmother's favour. Therefore if she had changed her
 course it must be for a different reason.
 
-He did not have far to seek for that reason.  On the way from the ferry
-she had told him that he and she must remain apart; but she had said it
-with her head on his breast.  He knew that there was no calculated
+He did not have far to seek for that reason. On the way from the ferry
+she had told him that he and she must remain apart; but she had said
+it with her head on his breast. He knew that there was no calculated
 coquetry in her words; she was fighting her fate as he had fought his,
 and clinging desperately to her resolve that they should not break
-faith with the people who trusted them.  But during the ten days which
+faith with the people who trusted them. But during the ten days which
 had elapsed since her return to New York she had perhaps guessed from
 his silence, and from the fact of his making no attempt to see her,
 that he was meditating a decisive step, a step from which there was no
-turning back.  At the thought, a sudden fear of her own weakness might
+turning back. At the thought, a sudden fear of her own weakness might
 have seized her, and she might have felt that, after all, it was better
 to accept the compromise usual in such cases, and follow the line of
 least resistance.
 
 An hour earlier, when he had rung Mrs. Mingott's bell, Archer had
-fancied that his path was clear before him.  He had meant to have a
+fancied that his path was clear before him. He had meant to have a
 word alone with Madame Olenska, and failing that, to learn from her
 grandmother on what day, and by which train, she was returning to
-Washington.  In that train he intended to join her, and travel with her
-to Washington, or as much farther as she was willing to go.  His own
-fancy inclined to Japan.  At any rate she would understand at once
-that, wherever she went, he was going.  He meant to leave a note for
-May that should cut off any other alternative.
+Washington. In that train he intended to join her, and travel with her
+to Washington, or as much farther as she was willing to go. His own
+fancy inclined to Japan. At any rate she would understand at once that,
+wherever she went, he was going. He meant to leave a note for May that
+should cut off any other alternative.
 
 He had fancied himself not only nerved for this plunge but eager to
-take it; yet his first feeling on hearing that the course of events was
-changed had been one of relief.  Now, however, as he walked home from
-Mrs. Mingott's, he was conscious of a growing distaste for what lay
-before him.  There was nothing unknown or unfamiliar in the path he was
-presumably to tread; but when he had trodden it before it was as a free
-man, who was accountable to no one for his actions, and could lend
-himself with an amused detachment to the game of precautions and
+take it; yet his first feeling on hearing that the course of events
+was changed had been one of relief. Now, however, as he walked home
+from Mrs. Mingott's, he was conscious of a growing distaste for what
+lay before him. There was nothing unknown or unfamiliar in the path he
+was presumably to tread; but when he had trodden it before it was as
+a free man, who was accountable to no one for his actions, and could
+lend himself with an amused detachment to the game of precautions and
 prevarications, concealments and compliances, that the part required.
 This procedure was called "protecting a woman's honour"; and the best
 fiction, combined with the after-dinner talk of his elders, had long
 since initiated him into every detail of its code.
 
 Now he saw the matter in a new light, and his part in it seemed
-singularly diminished.  It was, in fact, that which, with a secret
+singularly diminished. It was, in fact, that which, with a secret
 fatuity, he had watched Mrs. Thorley Rushworth play toward a fond and
 unperceiving husband: a smiling, bantering, humouring, watchful and
-incessant lie.  A lie by day, a lie by night, a lie in every touch and
+incessant lie. A lie by day, a lie by night, a lie in every touch and
 every look; a lie in every caress and every quarrel; a lie in every
 word and in every silence.
 
-It was easier, and less dastardly on the whole, for a wife to play such
-a part toward her husband.  A woman's standard of truthfulness was
+It was easier, and less dastardly on the whole, for a wife to play
+such a part toward her husband. A woman's standard of truthfulness was
 tacitly held to be lower: she was the subject creature, and versed in
-the arts of the enslaved.  Then she could always plead moods and
-nerves, and the right not to be held too strictly to account; and even
-in the most strait-laced societies the laugh was always against the
-husband.
+the arts of the enslaved. Then she could always plead moods and nerves,
+and the right not to be held too strictly to account; and even in the
+most strait-laced societies the laugh was always against the husband.
 
 But in Archer's little world no one laughed at a wife deceived, and a
 certain measure of contempt was attached to men who continued their
-philandering after marriage.  In the rotation of crops there was a
+philandering after marriage. In the rotation of crops there was a
 recognised season for wild oats; but they were not to be sown more than
 once.
 
 Archer had always shared this view: in his heart he thought Lefferts
-despicable.  But to love Ellen Olenska was not to become a man like
+despicable. But to love Ellen Olenska was not to become a man like
 Lefferts: for the first time Archer found himself face to face with the
-dread argument of the individual case.  Ellen Olenska was like no other
+dread argument of the individual case. Ellen Olenska was like no other
 woman, he was like no other man: their situation, therefore, resembled
 no one else's, and they were answerable to no tribunal but that of
 their own judgment.
@@ -9702,50 +9689,50 @@ he and his people had always believed in ...
 
 At his corner he hesitated, and then walked on down Fifth Avenue.
 
-Ahead of him, in the winter night, loomed a big unlit house.  As he
+Ahead of him, in the winter night, loomed a big unlit house. As he
 drew near he thought how often he had seen it blazing with lights, its
 steps awninged and carpeted, and carriages waiting in double line to
-draw up at the curbstone.  It was in the conservatory that stretched
-its dead-black bulk down the side street that he had taken his first
-kiss from May; it was under the myriad candles of the ball-room that he
-had seen her appear, tall and silver-shining as a young Diana.
+draw up at the curbstone. It was in the conservatory that stretched its
+dead-black bulk down the side street that he had taken his first kiss
+from May; it was under the myriad candles of the ball-room that he had
+seen her appear, tall and silver-shining as a young Diana.
 
 Now the house was as dark as the grave, except for a faint flare of gas
 in the basement, and a light in one upstairs room where the blind had
-not been lowered.  As Archer reached the corner he saw that the
-carriage standing at the door was Mrs. Manson Mingott's.  What an
-opportunity for Sillerton Jackson, if he should chance to pass!  Archer
-had been greatly moved by old Catherine's account of Madame Olenska's
-attitude toward Mrs. Beaufort; it made the righteous reprobation of New
-York seem like a passing by on the other side.  But he knew well enough
-what construction the clubs and drawing-rooms would put on Ellen
-Olenska's visits to her cousin.
-
-He paused and looked up at the lighted window.  No doubt the two women
+not been lowered. As Archer reached the corner he saw that the carriage
+standing at the door was Mrs. Manson Mingott's. What an opportunity
+for Sillerton Jackson, if he should chance to pass! Archer had been
+greatly moved by old Catherine's account of Madame Olenska's attitude
+toward Mrs. Beaufort; it made the righteous reprobation of New York
+seem like a passing by on the other side. But he knew well enough what
+construction the clubs and drawing-rooms would put on Ellen Olenska's
+visits to her cousin.
+
+He paused and looked up at the lighted window. No doubt the two women
 were sitting together in that room: Beaufort had probably sought
-consolation elsewhere.  There were even rumours that he had left New
+consolation elsewhere. There were even rumours that he had left New
 York with Fanny Ring; but Mrs. Beaufort's attitude made the report seem
 improbable.
 
 Archer had the nocturnal perspective of Fifth Avenue almost to himself.
 At that hour most people were indoors, dressing for dinner; and he was
-secretly glad that Ellen's exit was likely to be unobserved.  As the
+secretly glad that Ellen's exit was likely to be unobserved. As the
 thought passed through his mind the door opened, and she came out.
 Behind her was a faint light, such as might have been carried down the
-stairs to show her the way.  She turned to say a word to some one; then
+stairs to show her the way. She turned to say a word to some one; then
 the door closed, and she came down the steps.
 
 "Ellen," he said in a low voice, as she reached the pavement.
 
-She stopped with a slight start, and just then he saw two young men of
-fashionable cut approaching.  There was a familiar air about their
+She stopped with a slight start, and just then he saw two young men
+of fashionable cut approaching. There was a familiar air about their
 overcoats and the way their smart silk mufflers were folded over their
-white ties; and he wondered how youths of their quality happened to be
-dining out so early.  Then he remembered that the Reggie Chiverses,
+white ties; and he wondered how youths of their quality happened to
+be dining out so early. Then he remembered that the Reggie Chiverses,
 whose house was a few doors above, were taking a large party that
 evening to see Adelaide Neilson in Romeo and Juliet, and guessed that
-the two were of the number.  They passed under a lamp, and he
-recognised Lawrence Lefferts and a young Chivers.
+the two were of the number. They passed under a lamp, and he recognised
+Lawrence Lefferts and a young Chivers.
 
 A mean desire not to have Madame Olenska seen at the Beauforts' door
 vanished as he felt the penetrating warmth of her hand.
@@ -9757,9 +9744,9 @@ knowing what he said.
 
 While he watched her he was aware that Lefferts and Chivers, on
 reaching the farther side of the street corner, had discreetly struck
-away across Fifth Avenue.  It was the kind of masculine solidarity that
-he himself often practised; now he sickened at their connivance.  Did
-she really imagine that he and she could live like this?  And if not,
+away across Fifth Avenue. It was the kind of masculine solidarity that
+he himself often practised; now he sickened at their connivance. Did
+she really imagine that he and she could live like this? And if not,
 what else did she imagine?
 
 "Tomorrow I must see you--somewhere where we can be alone," he said, in
@@ -9774,15 +9761,15 @@ conscious that her change of plans required some explanation.
 
 She gave a faint laugh that grated on him.
 
-"In New York?  But there are no churches ... no monuments."
+"In New York? But there are no churches ... no monuments."
 
 "There's the Art Museum--in the Park," he explained, as she looked
-puzzled.  "At half-past two.  I shall be at the door ..."
+puzzled. "At half-past two. I shall be at the door ..."
 
 She turned away without answering and got quickly into the carriage.
 As it drove off she leaned forward, and he thought she waved her hand
-in the obscurity.  He stared after her in a turmoil of contradictory
-feelings.  It seemed to him that he had been speaking not to the woman
+in the obscurity. He stared after her in a turmoil of contradictory
+feelings. It seemed to him that he had been speaking not to the woman
 he loved but to another, a woman he was indebted to for pleasures
 already wearied of: it was hateful to find himself the prisoner of this
 hackneyed vocabulary.
@@ -9802,17 +9789,17 @@ fragments of Ilium.
 
 "It's odd," Madame Olenska said, "I never came here before."
 
-"Ah, well--.  Some day, I suppose, it will be a great Museum."
+"Ah, well--. Some day, I suppose, it will be a great Museum."
 
 "Yes," she assented absently.
 
-She stood up and wandered across the room.  Archer, remaining seated,
+She stood up and wandered across the room. Archer, remaining seated,
 watched the light movements of her figure, so girlish even under its
 heavy furs, the cleverly planted heron wing in her fur cap, and the way
 a dark curl lay like a flattened vine spiral on each cheek above the
-ear.  His mind, as always when they first met, was wholly absorbed in
-the delicious details that made her herself and no other.  Presently he
-rose and approached the case before which she stood.  Its glass shelves
+ear. His mind, as always when they first met, was wholly absorbed in
+the delicious details that made her herself and no other. Presently he
+rose and approached the case before which she stood. Its glass shelves
 were crowded with small broken objects--hardly recognisable domestic
 utensils, ornaments and personal trifles--made of glass, of clay, of
 discoloured bronze and other time-blurred substances.
@@ -9820,7 +9807,7 @@ discoloured bronze and other time-blurred substances.
 "It seems cruel," she said, "that after a while nothing matters ... any
 more than these little things, that used to be necessary and important
 to forgotten people, and now have to be guessed at under a magnifying
-glass and labelled:  'Use unknown.'"
+glass and labelled: 'Use unknown.'"
 
 "Yes; but meanwhile--"
 
@@ -9834,15 +9821,15 @@ harmony of line and colour should ever suffer the stupid law of change.
 
 "Meanwhile everything matters--that concerns you," he said.
 
-She looked at him thoughtfully, and turned back to the divan.  He sat
+She looked at him thoughtfully, and turned back to the divan. He sat
 down beside her and waited; but suddenly he heard a step echoing far
 off down the empty rooms, and felt the pressure of the minutes.
 
 "What is it you wanted to tell me?" she asked, as if she had received
 the same warning.
 
-"What I wanted to tell you?" he rejoined.  "Why, that I believe you
-came to New York because you were afraid."
+"What I wanted to tell you?" he rejoined. "Why, that I believe you came
+to New York because you were afraid."
 
 "Afraid?"
 
@@ -9854,7 +9841,7 @@ She looked down at her muff, and he saw her hands stir in it uneasily.
 
 "Well--yes," she said.
 
-"You WERE afraid?  You knew--?"
+"You _were_ afraid? You knew--?"
 
 "Yes: I knew ..."
 
@@ -9865,25 +9852,25 @@ questioning sigh.
 
 "Better--?"
 
-"We shall hurt others less.  Isn't it, after all, what you always
+"We shall hurt others less. Isn't it, after all, what you always
 wanted?"
 
-"To have you here, you mean--in reach and yet out of reach?  To meet
-you in this way, on the sly?  It's the very reverse of what I want.  I
-told you the other day what I wanted."
+"To have you here, you mean--in reach and yet out of reach? To meet you
+in this way, on the sly? It's the very reverse of what I want. I told
+you the other day what I wanted."
 
-She hesitated.  "And you still think this--worse?"
+She hesitated. "And you still think this--worse?"
 
-"A thousand times!"  He paused.  "It would be easy to lie to you; but
-the truth is I think it detestable."
+"A thousand times!" He paused. "It would be easy to lie to you; but the
+truth is I think it detestable."
 
 "Oh, so do I!" she cried with a deep breath of relief.
 
-He sprang up impatiently.  "Well, then--it's my turn to ask: what is
-it, in God's name, that you think better?"
+He sprang up impatiently. "Well, then--it's my turn to ask: what is it,
+in God's name, that you think better?"
 
 She hung her head and continued to clasp and unclasp her hands in her
-muff.  The step drew nearer, and a guardian in a braided cap walked
+muff. The step drew nearer, and a guardian in a braided cap walked
 listlessly through the room like a ghost stalking through a necropolis.
 They fixed their eyes simultaneously on the case opposite them, and
 when the official figure had vanished down a vista of mummies and
@@ -9891,7 +9878,7 @@ sarcophagi Archer spoke again.
 
 "What do you think better?"
 
-Instead of answering she murmured:  "I promised Granny to stay with her
+Instead of answering she murmured: "I promised Granny to stay with her
 because it seemed to me that here I should be safer."
 
 "From me?"
@@ -9903,10 +9890,10 @@ She bent her head slightly, without looking at him.
 Her profile did not stir, but he saw a tear overflow on her lashes and
 hang in a mesh of her veil.
 
-"Safer from doing irreparable harm.  Don't let us be like all the
+"Safer from doing irreparable harm. Don't let us be like all the
 others!" she protested.
 
-"What others?  I don't profess to be different from my kind.  I'm
+"What others? I don't profess to be different from my kind. I'm
 consumed by the same wants and the same longings."
 
 She glanced at him with a kind of terror, and he saw a faint colour
@@ -9915,39 +9902,39 @@ steal into her cheeks.
 "Shall I--once come to you; and then go home?" she suddenly hazarded in
 a low clear voice.
 
-The blood rushed to the young man's forehead.  "Dearest!" he said,
-without moving.  It seemed as if he held his heart in his hands, like a
+The blood rushed to the young man's forehead. "Dearest!" he said,
+without moving. It seemed as if he held his heart in his hands, like a
 full cup that the least motion might overbrim.
 
-Then her last phrase struck his ear and his face clouded.  "Go home?
+Then her last phrase struck his ear and his face clouded. "Go home?
 What do you mean by going home?"
 
 "Home to my husband."
 
 "And you expect me to say yes to that?"
 
-She raised her troubled eyes to his.  "What else is there?  I can't
-stay here and lie to the people who've been good to me."
+She raised her troubled eyes to his. "What else is there? I can't stay
+here and lie to the people who've been good to me."
 
 "But that's the very reason why I ask you to come away!"
 
 "And destroy their lives, when they've helped me to remake mine?"
 
 Archer sprang to his feet and stood looking down on her in inarticulate
-despair.  It would have been easy to say:  "Yes, come; come once."  He
+despair. It would have been easy to say: "Yes, come; come once." He
 knew the power she would put in his hands if she consented; there would
 be no difficulty then in persuading her not to go back to her husband.
 
-But something silenced the word on his lips.  A sort of passionate
+But something silenced the word on his lips. A sort of passionate
 honesty in her made it inconceivable that he should try to draw her
-into that familiar trap.  "If I were to let her come," he said to
-himself, "I should have to let her go again."  And that was not to be
+into that familiar trap. "If I were to let her come," he said to
+himself, "I should have to let her go again." And that was not to be
 imagined.
 
 But he saw the shadow of the lashes on her wet cheek, and wavered.
 
-"After all," he began again, "we have lives of our own....  There's no
-use attempting the impossible.  You're so unprejudiced about some
+"After all," he began again, "we have lives of our own.... There's
+no use attempting the impossible. You're so unprejudiced about some
 things, so used, as you say, to looking at the Gorgon, that I don't
 know why you're afraid to face our case, and see it as it really
 is--unless you think the sacrifice is not worth making."
@@ -9957,30 +9944,30 @@ She stood up also, her lips tightening under a rapid frown.
 "Call it that, then--I must go," she said, drawing her little watch
 from her bosom.
 
-She turned away, and he followed and caught her by the wrist.  "Well,
+She turned away, and he followed and caught her by the wrist. "Well,
 then: come to me once," he said, his head turning suddenly at the
 thought of losing her; and for a second or two they looked at each
 other almost like enemies.
 
-"When?" he insisted.  "Tomorrow?"
+"When?" he insisted. "Tomorrow?"
 
-She hesitated.  "The day after."
+She hesitated. "The day after."
 
 "Dearest--!" he said again.
 
 She had disengaged her wrist; but for a moment they continued to hold
 each other's eyes, and he saw that her face, which had grown very pale,
-was flooded with a deep inner radiance.  His heart beat with awe: he
+was flooded with a deep inner radiance. His heart beat with awe: he
 felt that he had never before beheld love visible.
 
-"Oh, I shall be late--good-bye.  No, don't come any farther than this,"
+"Oh, I shall be late--good-bye. No, don't come any farther than this,"
 she cried, walking hurriedly away down the long room, as if the
-reflected radiance in his eyes had frightened her.  When she reached
-the door she turned for a moment to wave a quick farewell.
+reflected radiance in his eyes had frightened her. When she reached the
+door she turned for a moment to wave a quick farewell.
 
-Archer walked home alone.  Darkness was falling when he let himself
-into his house, and he looked about at the familiar objects in the hall
-as if he viewed them from the other side of the grave.
+Archer walked home alone. Darkness was falling when he let himself into
+his house, and he looked about at the familiar objects in the hall as
+if he viewed them from the other side of the grave.
 
 The parlour-maid, hearing his step, ran up the stairs to light the gas
 on the upper landing.
@@ -9991,16 +9978,16 @@ on the upper landing.
 hasn't come back."
 
 With a sense of relief he entered the library and flung himself down in
-his armchair.  The parlour-maid followed, bringing the student lamp and
-shaking some coals onto the dying fire.  When she left he continued to
+his armchair. The parlour-maid followed, bringing the student lamp and
+shaking some coals onto the dying fire. When she left he continued to
 sit motionless, his elbows on his knees, his chin on his clasped hands,
 his eyes fixed on the red grate.
 
 He sat there without conscious thoughts, without sense of the lapse of
 time, in a deep and grave amazement that seemed to suspend life rather
-than quicken it.  "This was what had to be, then ... this was what had
+than quicken it. "This was what had to be, then ... this was what had
 to be," he kept repeating to himself, as if he hung in the clutch of
-doom.  What he had dreamed of had been so different that there was a
+doom. What he had dreamed of had been so different that there was a
 mortal chill in his rapture.
 
 The door opened and May came in.
@@ -10008,31 +9995,31 @@ The door opened and May came in.
 "I'm dreadfully late--you weren't worried, were you?" she asked, laying
 her hand on his shoulder with one of her rare caresses.
 
-He looked up astonished.  "Is it late?"
+He looked up astonished. "Is it late?"
 
-"After seven.  I believe you've been asleep!"  She laughed, and drawing
-out her hat pins tossed her velvet hat on the sofa.  She looked paler
+"After seven. I believe you've been asleep!" She laughed, and drawing
+out her hat pins tossed her velvet hat on the sofa. She looked paler
 than usual, but sparkling with an unwonted animation.
 
 "I went to see Granny, and just as I was going away Ellen came in from
-a walk; so I stayed and had a long talk with her.  It was ages since
+a walk; so I stayed and had a long talk with her. It was ages since
 we'd had a real talk...." She had dropped into her usual armchair,
-facing his, and was running her fingers through her rumpled hair.  He
+facing his, and was running her fingers through her rumpled hair. He
 fancied she expected him to speak.
 
 "A really good talk," she went on, smiling with what seemed to Archer
-an unnatural vividness.  "She was so dear--just like the old Ellen.
-I'm afraid I haven't been fair to her lately.  I've sometimes thought--"
+an unnatural vividness. "She was so dear--just like the old Ellen. I'm
+afraid I haven't been fair to her lately. I've sometimes thought--"
 
 Archer stood up and leaned against the mantelpiece, out of the radius
 of the lamp.
 
 "Yes, you've thought--?" he echoed as she paused.
 
-"Well, perhaps I haven't judged her fairly.  She's so different--at
-least on the surface.  She takes up such odd people--she seems to like
-to make herself conspicuous.  I suppose it's the life she's led in that
-fast European society; no doubt we seem dreadfully dull to her.  But I
+"Well, perhaps I haven't judged her fairly. She's so different--at
+least on the surface. She takes up such odd people--she seems to like
+to make herself conspicuous. I suppose it's the life she's led in that
+fast European society; no doubt we seem dreadfully dull to her. But I
 don't want to judge her unfairly."
 
 She paused again, a little breathless with the unwonted length of her
@@ -10040,7 +10027,7 @@ speech, and sat with her lips slightly parted and a deep blush on her
 cheeks.
 
 Archer, as he looked at her, was reminded of the glow which had
-suffused her face in the Mission Garden at St. Augustine.  He became
+suffused her face in the Mission Garden at St. Augustine. He became
 aware of the same obscure effort in her, the same reaching out toward
 something beyond the usual range of her vision.
 
@@ -10051,18 +10038,18 @@ The thought moved him, and for a moment he was on the point of breaking
 the silence between them, and throwing himself on her mercy.
 
 "You understand, don't you," she went on, "why the family have
-sometimes been annoyed?  We all did what we could for her at first; but
-she never seemed to understand.  And now this idea of going to see Mrs.
-Beaufort, of going there in Granny's carriage!  I'm afraid she's quite
+sometimes been annoyed? We all did what we could for her at first; but
+she never seemed to understand. And now this idea of going to see Mrs.
+Beaufort, of going there in Granny's carriage! I'm afraid she's quite
 alienated the van der Luydens ..."
 
-"Ah," said Archer with an impatient laugh.  The open door had closed
+"Ah," said Archer with an impatient laugh. The open door had closed
 between them again.
 
 "It's time to dress; we're dining out, aren't we?" he asked, moving
 from the fire.
 
-She rose also, but lingered near the hearth.  As he walked past her she
+She rose also, but lingered near the hearth. As he walked past her she
 moved forward impulsively, as though to detain him: their eyes met, and
 he saw that hers were of the same swimming blue as when he had left her
 to drive to Jersey City.
@@ -10074,28 +10061,29 @@ tremble in his arms.
 
 
 
+
 XXXII.
 
+
 "At the court of the Tuileries," said Mr. Sillerton Jackson with his
 reminiscent smile, "such things were pretty openly tolerated."
 
 The scene was the van der Luydens' black walnut dining-room in Madison
 Avenue, and the time the evening after Newland Archer's visit to the
-Museum of Art.  Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden had come to town for a few
+Museum of Art. Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden had come to town for a few
 days from Skuytercliff, whither they had precipitately fled at the
-announcement of Beaufort's failure.  It had been represented to them
+announcement of Beaufort's failure. It had been represented to them
 that the disarray into which society had been thrown by this deplorable
-affair made their presence in town more necessary than ever.  It was
-one of the occasions when, as Mrs. Archer put it, they "owed it to
-society" to show themselves at the Opera, and even to open their own
-doors.
+affair made their presence in town more necessary than ever. It was one
+of the occasions when, as Mrs. Archer put it, they "owed it to society"
+to show themselves at the Opera, and even to open their own doors.
 
 "It will never do, my dear Louisa, to let people like Mrs. Lemuel
-Struthers think they can step into Regina's shoes.  It is just at such
-times that new people push in and get a footing.  It was owing to the
+Struthers think they can step into Regina's shoes. It is just at such
+times that new people push in and get a footing. It was owing to the
 epidemic of chicken-pox in New York the winter Mrs. Struthers first
 appeared that the married men slipped away to her house while their
-wives were in the nursery.  You and dear Henry, Louisa, must stand in
+wives were in the nursery. You and dear Henry, Louisa, must stand in
 the breach as you always have."
 
 Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden could not remain deaf to such a call, and
@@ -10104,15 +10092,15 @@ and sent out invitations for two dinners and an evening reception.
 
 On this particular evening they had invited Sillerton Jackson, Mrs.
 Archer and Newland and his wife to go with them to the Opera, where
-Faust was being sung for the first time that winter.  Nothing was done
+Faust was being sung for the first time that winter. Nothing was done
 without ceremony under the van der Luyden roof, and though there were
 but four guests the repast had begun at seven punctually, so that the
 proper sequence of courses might be served without haste before the
 gentlemen settled down to their cigars.
 
-Archer had not seen his wife since the evening before.  He had left
+Archer had not seen his wife since the evening before. He had left
 early for the office, where he had plunged into an accumulation of
-unimportant business.  In the afternoon one of the senior partners had
+unimportant business. In the afternoon one of the senior partners had
 made an unexpected call on his time; and he had reached home so late
 that May had preceded him to the van der Luydens', and sent back the
 carriage.
@@ -10123,20 +10111,20 @@ exaggerated animation.
 
 The subject which had called forth Mr. Sillerton Jackson's favourite
 allusion had been brought up (Archer fancied not without intention) by
-their hostess.  The Beaufort failure, or rather the Beaufort attitude
+their hostess. The Beaufort failure, or rather the Beaufort attitude
 since the failure, was still a fruitful theme for the drawing-room
 moralist; and after it had been thoroughly examined and condemned Mrs.
 van der Luyden had turned her scrupulous eyes on May Archer.
 
-"Is it possible, dear, that what I hear is true?  I was told your
+"Is it possible, dear, that what I hear is true? I was told your
 grandmother Mingott's carriage was seen standing at Mrs. Beaufort's
-door."  It was noticeable that she no longer called the offending lady
+door." It was noticeable that she no longer called the offending lady
 by her Christian name.
 
 May's colour rose, and Mrs. Archer put in hastily: "If it was, I'm
 convinced it was there without Mrs. Mingott's knowledge."
 
-"Ah, you think--?"  Mrs. van der Luyden paused, sighed, and glanced at
+"Ah, you think--?" Mrs. van der Luyden paused, sighed, and glanced at
 her husband.
 
 "I'm afraid," Mr. van der Luyden said, "that Madame Olenska's kind
@@ -10154,49 +10142,49 @@ favourite allusion.
 
 "At the Tuileries," he repeated, seeing the eyes of the company
 expectantly turned on him, "the standard was excessively lax in some
-respects; and if you'd asked where Morny's money came from--!  Or who
+respects; and if you'd asked where Morny's money came from--! Or who
 paid the debts of some of the Court beauties ..."
 
 "I hope, dear Sillerton," said Mrs. Archer, "you are not suggesting
 that we should adopt such standards?"
 
-"I never suggest," returned Mr. Jackson imperturbably.  "But Madame
+"I never suggest," returned Mr. Jackson imperturbably. "But Madame
 Olenska's foreign bringing-up may make her less particular--"
 
 "Ah," the two elder ladies sighed.
 
-"Still, to have kept her grandmother's carriage at a defaulter's door!"
-Mr. van der Luyden protested; and Archer guessed that he was
+"Still, to have kept her grandmother's carriage at a defaulter's
+door!" Mr. van der Luyden protested; and Archer guessed that he was
 remembering, and resenting, the hampers of carnations he had sent to
 the little house in Twenty-third Street.
 
 "Of course I've always said that she looks at things quite
 differently," Mrs. Archer summed up.
 
-A flush rose to May's forehead.  She looked across the table at her
-husband, and said precipitately:  "I'm sure Ellen meant it kindly."
+A flush rose to May's forehead. She looked across the table at her
+husband, and said precipitately: "I'm sure Ellen meant it kindly."
 
 "Imprudent people are often kind," said Mrs. Archer, as if the fact
-were scarcely an extenuation; and Mrs. van der Luyden murmured:  "If
+were scarcely an extenuation; and Mrs. van der Luyden murmured: "If
 only she had consulted some one--"
 
 "Ah, that she never did!" Mrs. Archer rejoined.
 
 At this point Mr. van der Luyden glanced at his wife, who bent her head
-slightly in the direction of Mrs. Archer; and the glimmering trains of
-the three ladies swept out of the door while the gentlemen settled down
-to their cigars.  Mr. van der Luyden supplied short ones on Opera
+slightly in the direction of Mrs. Archer; and the glimmering trains
+of the three ladies swept out of the door while the gentlemen settled
+down to their cigars. Mr. van der Luyden supplied short ones on Opera
 nights; but they were so good that they made his guests deplore his
 inexorable punctuality.
 
 Archer, after the first act, had detached himself from the party and
-made his way to the back of the club box.  From there he watched, over
+made his way to the back of the club box. From there he watched, over
 various Chivers, Mingott and Rushworth shoulders, the same scene that
 he had looked at, two years previously, on the night of his first
-meeting with Ellen Olenska.  He had half-expected her to appear again
-in old Mrs. Mingott's box, but it remained empty; and he sat
-motionless, his eyes fastened on it, till suddenly Madame Nilsson's
-pure soprano broke out into "M'ama, non m'ama ..."
+meeting with Ellen Olenska. He had half-expected her to appear again in
+old Mrs. Mingott's box, but it remained empty; and he sat motionless,
+his eyes fastened on it, till suddenly Madame Nilsson's pure soprano
+broke out into "_M'ama, non m'ama ..._"
 
 Archer turned to the stage, where, in the familiar setting of giant
 roses and pen-wiper pansies, the same large blonde victim was
@@ -10205,7 +10193,7 @@ succumbing to the same small brown seducer.
 From the stage his eyes wandered to the point of the horseshoe where
 May sat between two older ladies, just as, on that former evening, she
 had sat between Mrs. Lovell Mingott and her newly-arrived "foreign"
-cousin.  As on that evening, she was all in white; and Archer, who had
+cousin. As on that evening, she was all in white; and Archer, who had
 not noticed what she wore, recognised the blue-white satin and old lace
 of her wedding dress.
 
@@ -10220,34 +10208,34 @@ worn her bridal satin, and the surprise of seeing her in it made him
 compare her appearance with that of the young girl he had watched with
 such blissful anticipations two years earlier.
 
-Though May's outline was slightly heavier, as her goddesslike build had
-foretold, her athletic erectness of carriage, and the girlish
-transparency of her expression, remained unchanged: but for the slight
-languor that Archer had lately noticed in her she would have been the
-exact image of the girl playing with the bouquet of
-lilies-of-the-valley on her betrothal evening.  The fact seemed an
-additional appeal to his pity: such innocence was as moving as the
-trustful clasp of a child.  Then he remembered the passionate
-generosity latent under that incurious calm.  He recalled her glance of
-understanding when he had urged that their engagement should be
+Though May's outline was slightly heavier, as her goddesslike build
+had foretold, her athletic erectness of carriage, and the girlish
+transparency of her expression, remained unchanged: but for the
+slight languor that Archer had lately noticed in her she would
+have been the exact image of the girl playing with the bouquet of
+lilies-of-the-valley on her betrothal evening. The fact seemed an
+additional appeal to his pity: such innocence was as moving as
+the trustful clasp of a child. Then he remembered the passionate
+generosity latent under that incurious calm. He recalled her glance
+of understanding when he had urged that their engagement should be
 announced at the Beaufort ball; he heard the voice in which she had
-said, in the Mission garden:  "I couldn't have my happiness made out of
-a wrong--a wrong to some one else;" and an uncontrollable longing
+said, in the Mission garden: "I couldn't have my happiness made out
+of a wrong--a wrong to some one else;" and an uncontrollable longing
 seized him to tell her the truth, to throw himself on her generosity,
 and ask for the freedom he had once refused.
 
-Newland Archer was a quiet and self-controlled young man.  Conformity
+Newland Archer was a quiet and self-controlled young man. Conformity
 to the discipline of a small society had become almost his second
-nature.  It was deeply distasteful to him to do anything melodramatic
-and conspicuous, anything Mr. van der Luyden would have deprecated and
-the club box condemned as bad form.  But he had become suddenly
+nature. It was deeply distasteful to him to do anything melodramatic
+and conspicuous, anything Mr. van der Luyden would have deprecated
+and the club box condemned as bad form. But he had become suddenly
 unconscious of the club box, of Mr. van der Luyden, of all that had so
-long enclosed him in the warm shelter of habit.  He walked along the
+long enclosed him in the warm shelter of habit. He walked along the
 semi-circular passage at the back of the house, and opened the door of
 Mrs. van der Luyden's box as if it had been a gate into the unknown.
 
-"M'ama!" thrilled out the triumphant Marguerite; and the occupants of
-the box looked up in surprise at Archer's entrance.  He had already
+"_M'ama_!" thrilled out the triumphant Marguerite; and the occupants
+of the box looked up in surprise at Archer's entrance. He had already
 broken one of the rules of his world, which forbade the entering of a
 box during a solo.
 
@@ -10260,29 +10248,29 @@ you?" he whispered.
 May gave him a glance of comprehension, and he saw her whisper to his
 mother, who nodded sympathetically; then she murmured an excuse to Mrs.
 van der Luyden, and rose from her seat just as Marguerite fell into
-Faust's arms.  Archer, while he helped her on with her Opera cloak,
+Faust's arms. Archer, while he helped her on with her Opera cloak,
 noticed the exchange of a significant smile between the older ladies.
 
-As they drove away May laid her hand shyly on his.  "I'm so sorry you
-don't feel well.  I'm afraid they've been overworking you again at the
+As they drove away May laid her hand shyly on his. "I'm so sorry you
+don't feel well. I'm afraid they've been overworking you again at the
 office."
 
 "No--it's not that: do you mind if I open the window?" he returned
-confusedly, letting down the pane on his side.  He sat staring out into
-the street, feeling his wife beside him as a silent watchful
+confusedly, letting down the pane on his side. He sat staring out
+into the street, feeling his wife beside him as a silent watchful
 interrogation, and keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the passing
-houses.  At their door she caught her skirt in the step of the
-carriage, and fell against him.
+houses. At their door she caught her skirt in the step of the carriage,
+and fell against him.
 
 "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, steadying her with his arm.
 
-"No; but my poor dress--see how I've torn it!" she exclaimed.  She bent
+"No; but my poor dress--see how I've torn it!" she exclaimed. She bent
 to gather up a mud-stained breadth, and followed him up the steps into
-the hall.  The servants had not expected them so early, and there was
+the hall. The servants had not expected them so early, and there was
 only a glimmer of gas on the upper landing.
 
 Archer mounted the stairs, turned up the light, and put a match to the
-brackets on each side of the library mantelpiece.  The curtains were
+brackets on each side of the library mantelpiece. The curtains were
 drawn, and the warm friendly aspect of the room smote him like that of
 a familiar face met during an unavowable errand.
 
@@ -10290,15 +10278,14 @@ He noticed that his wife was very pale, and asked if he should get her
 some brandy.
 
 "Oh, no," she exclaimed with a momentary flush, as she took off her
-cloak.  "But hadn't you better go to bed at once?" she added, as he
+cloak. "But hadn't you better go to bed at once?" she added, as he
 opened a silver box on the table and took out a cigarette.
 
 Archer threw down the cigarette and walked to his usual place by the
 fire.
 
-"No; my head is not as bad as that."  He paused.  "And there's
-something I want to say; something important--that I must tell you at
-once."
+"No; my head is not as bad as that." He paused. "And there's something
+I want to say; something important--that I must tell you at once."
 
 She had dropped into an armchair, and raised her head as he spoke.
 "Yes, dear?" she rejoined, so gently that he wondered at the lack of
@@ -10306,39 +10293,39 @@ wonder with which she received this preamble.
 
 "May--" he began, standing a few feet from her chair, and looking over
 at her as if the slight distance between them were an unbridgeable
-abyss.  The sound of his voice echoed uncannily through the homelike
-hush, and he repeated:  "There is something I've got to tell you ...
+abyss. The sound of his voice echoed uncannily through the homelike
+hush, and he repeated: "There is something I've got to tell you ...
 about myself ..."
 
-She sat silent, without a movement or a tremor of her lashes.  She was
-still extremely pale, but her face had a curious tranquillity of
+She sat silent, without a movement or a tremor of her lashes. She
+was still extremely pale, but her face had a curious tranquillity of
 expression that seemed drawn from some secret inner source.
 
 Archer checked the conventional phrases of self-accusal that were
-crowding to his lips.  He was determined to put the case baldly,
-without vain recrimination or excuse.
+crowding to his lips. He was determined to put the case baldly, without
+vain recrimination or excuse.
 
 "Madame Olenska--" he said; but at the name his wife raised her hand as
-if to silence him.  As she did so the gaslight struck on the gold of
-her wedding-ring.
+if to silence him. As she did so the gaslight struck on the gold of her
+wedding-ring.
 
 "Oh, why should we talk about Ellen tonight?" she asked, with a slight
 pout of impatience.
 
 "Because I ought to have spoken before."
 
-Her face remained calm.  "Is it really worth while, dear?  I know I've
-been unfair to her at times--perhaps we all have.  You've understood
-her, no doubt, better than we did: you've always been kind to her.  But
+Her face remained calm. "Is it really worth while, dear? I know I've
+been unfair to her at times--perhaps we all have. You've understood
+her, no doubt, better than we did: you've always been kind to her. But
 what does it matter, now it's all over?"
 
-Archer looked at her blankly.  Could it be possible that the sense of
+Archer looked at her blankly. Could it be possible that the sense of
 unreality in which he felt himself imprisoned had communicated itself
 to his wife?
 
 "All over--what do you mean?" he asked in an indistinct stammer.
 
-May still looked at him with transparent eyes.  "Why--since she's going
+May still looked at him with transparent eyes. "Why--since she's going
 back to Europe so soon; since Granny approves and understands, and has
 arranged to make her independent of her husband--"
 
@@ -10347,18 +10334,18 @@ one convulsed hand, and steadying himself against it, made a vain
 effort to extend the same control to his reeling thoughts.
 
 "I supposed," he heard his wife's even voice go on, "that you had been
-kept at the office this evening about the business arrangements.  It
-was settled this morning, I believe."  She lowered her eyes under his
+kept at the office this evening about the business arrangements. It
+was settled this morning, I believe." She lowered her eyes under his
 unseeing stare, and another fugitive flush passed over her face.
 
 He understood that his own eyes must be unbearable, and turning away,
-rested his elbows on the mantel-shelf and covered his face.  Something
+rested his elbows on the mantel-shelf and covered his face. Something
 drummed and clanged furiously in his ears; he could not tell if it were
 the blood in his veins, or the tick of the clock on the mantel.
 
 May sat without moving or speaking while the clock slowly measured out
-five minutes.  A lump of coal fell forward in the grate, and hearing
-her rise to push it back, Archer at length turned and faced her.
+five minutes. A lump of coal fell forward in the grate, and hearing her
+rise to push it back, Archer at length turned and faced her.
 
 "It's impossible," he exclaimed.
 
@@ -10378,15 +10365,14 @@ back almost immediately.
 "I thought you knew," she said simply.
 
 She laid a sheet of paper on the table, and Archer put out his hand and
-took it up.  The letter contained only a few lines.
+took it up. The letter contained only a few lines.
 
 "May dear, I have at last made Granny understand that my visit to her
 could be no more than a visit; and she has been as kind and generous as
-ever.  She sees now that if I return to Europe I must live by myself,
-or rather with poor Aunt Medora, who is coming with me. I am hurrying
-back to Washington to pack up, and we sail next week.  You must be very
-good to Granny when I'm gone--as good as you've always been to me.
-Ellen.
+ever. She sees now that if I return to Europe I must live by myself, or
+rather with poor Aunt Medora, who is coming with me. I am hurrying back
+to Washington to pack up, and we sail next week. You must be very good
+to Granny when I'm gone--as good as you've always been to me. Ellen.
 
 "If any of my friends wish to urge me to change my mind, please tell
 them it would be utterly useless."
@@ -10394,7 +10380,7 @@ them it would be utterly useless."
 Archer read the letter over two or three times; then he flung it down
 and burst out laughing.
 
-The sound of his laugh startled him.  It recalled Janey's midnight
+The sound of his laugh startled him. It recalled Janey's midnight
 fright when she had caught him rocking with incomprehensible mirth over
 May's telegram announcing that the date of their marriage had been
 advanced.
@@ -10402,7 +10388,7 @@ advanced.
 "Why did she write this?" he asked, checking his laugh with a supreme
 effort.
 
-May met the question with her unshaken candour.  "I suppose because we
+May met the question with her unshaken candour. "I suppose because we
 talked things over yesterday--"
 
 "What things?"
@@ -10415,7 +10401,7 @@ criticise, and yet didn't always know the circumstances." She paused.
 wanted her to know that you and I were the same--in all our feelings."
 
 She hesitated, as if waiting for him to speak, and then added slowly:
-"She understood my wishing to tell her this.  I think she understands
+"She understood my wishing to tell her this. I think she understands
 everything."
 
 She went up to Archer, and taking one of his cold hands pressed it
@@ -10427,36 +10413,38 @@ room.
 
 
 
+
 XXXIII.
 
+
 It was, as Mrs. Archer smilingly said to Mrs. Welland, a great event
 for a young couple to give their first big dinner.
 
 The Newland Archers, since they had set up their household, had
-received a good deal of company in an informal way.  Archer was fond of
-having three or four friends to dine, and May welcomed them with the
-beaming readiness of which her mother had set her the example in
-conjugal affairs.  Her husband questioned whether, if left to herself,
-she would ever have asked any one to the house; but he had long given
-up trying to disengage her real self from the shape into which
-tradition and training had moulded her.  It was expected that well-off
-young couples in New York should do a good deal of informal
+received a good deal of company in an informal way. Archer was fond
+of having three or four friends to dine, and May welcomed them with
+the beaming readiness of which her mother had set her the example
+in conjugal affairs. Her husband questioned whether, if left to
+herself, she would ever have asked any one to the house; but he had
+long given up trying to disengage her real self from the shape into
+which tradition and training had moulded her. It was expected that
+well-off young couples in New York should do a good deal of informal
 entertaining, and a Welland married to an Archer was doubly pledged to
 the tradition.
 
 But a big dinner, with a hired chef and two borrowed footmen, with
 Roman punch, roses from Henderson's, and menus on gilt-edged cards, was
-a different affair, and not to be lightly undertaken.  As Mrs. Archer
-remarked, the Roman punch made all the difference; not in itself but by
-its manifold implications--since it signified either canvas-backs or
-terrapin, two soups, a hot and a cold sweet, full decolletage with
+a different affair, and not to be lightly undertaken. As Mrs. Archer
+remarked, the Roman punch made all the difference; not in itself but
+by its manifold implications--since it signified either canvas-backs
+or terrapin, two soups, a hot and a cold sweet, full decolletage with
 short sleeves, and guests of a proportionate importance.
 
 It was always an interesting occasion when a young pair launched their
 first invitations in the third person, and their summons was seldom
-refused even by the seasoned and sought-after.  Still, it was
-admittedly a triumph that the van der Luydens, at May's request, should
-have stayed over in order to be present at her farewell dinner for the
+refused even by the seasoned and sought-after. Still, it was admittedly
+a triumph that the van der Luydens, at May's request, should have
+stayed over in order to be present at her farewell dinner for the
 Countess Olenska.
 
 The two mothers-in-law sat in May's drawing-room on the afternoon of
@@ -10464,7 +10452,7 @@ the great day, Mrs. Archer writing out the menus on Tiffany's thickest
 gilt-edged bristol, while Mrs. Welland superintended the placing of the
 palms and standard lamps.
 
-Archer, arriving late from his office, found them still there.  Mrs.
+Archer, arriving late from his office, found them still there. Mrs.
 Archer had turned her attention to the name-cards for the table, and
 Mrs. Welland was considering the effect of bringing forward the large
 gilt sofa, so that another "corner" might be created between the piano
@@ -10473,8 +10461,8 @@ and the window.
 May, they told him, was in the dining-room inspecting the mound of
 Jacqueminot roses and maidenhair in the centre of the long table, and
 the placing of the Maillard bonbons in openwork silver baskets between
-the candelabra.  On the piano stood a large basket of orchids which Mr.
-van der Luyden had had sent from Skuytercliff.  Everything was, in
+the candelabra. On the piano stood a large basket of orchids which
+Mr. van der Luyden had had sent from Skuytercliff. Everything was, in
 short, as it should be on the approach of so considerable an event.
 
 Mrs. Archer ran thoughtfully over the list, checking off each name with
@@ -10483,24 +10471,24 @@ her sharp gold pen.
 "Henry van der Luyden--Louisa--the Lovell Mingotts--the Reggie
 Chiverses--Lawrence Lefferts and Gertrude--(yes, I suppose May was
 right to have them)--the Selfridge Merrys, Sillerton Jackson, Van
-Newland and his wife. (How time passes!  It seems only yesterday that
-he was your best man, Newland)--and Countess Olenska--yes, I think
-that's all...."
+Newland and his wife. (How time passes! It seems only yesterday that he
+was your best man, Newland)--and Countess Olenska--yes, I think that's
+all...."
 
-Mrs. Welland surveyed her son-in-law affectionately.  "No one can say,
+Mrs. Welland surveyed her son-in-law affectionately. "No one can say,
 Newland, that you and May are not giving Ellen a handsome send-off."
 
 "Ah, well," said Mrs. Archer, "I understand May's wanting her cousin to
 tell people abroad that we're not quite barbarians."
 
-"I'm sure Ellen will appreciate it.  She was to arrive this morning, I
-believe.  It will make a most charming last impression.  The evening
+"I'm sure Ellen will appreciate it. She was to arrive this morning,
+I believe. It will make a most charming last impression. The evening
 before sailing is usually so dreary," Mrs. Welland cheerfully continued.
 
 Archer turned toward the door, and his mother-in-law called to him:
-"Do go in and have a peep at the table.  And don't let May tire herself
-too much."  But he affected not to hear, and sprang up the stairs to
-his library.  The room looked at him like an alien countenance composed
+"Do go in and have a peep at the table. And don't let May tire herself
+too much." But he affected not to hear, and sprang up the stairs to
+his library. The room looked at him like an alien countenance composed
 into a polite grimace; and he perceived that it had been ruthlessly
 "tidied," and prepared, by a judicious distribution of ash-trays and
 cedar-wood boxes, for the gentlemen to smoke in.
@@ -10511,25 +10499,25 @@ dressing-room.
 Ten days had passed since Madame Olenska's departure from New York.
 During those ten days Archer had had no sign from her but that conveyed
 by the return of a key wrapped in tissue paper, and sent to his office
-in a sealed envelope addressed in her hand.  This retort to his last
+in a sealed envelope addressed in her hand. This retort to his last
 appeal might have been interpreted as a classic move in a familiar
-game; but the young man chose to give it a different meaning.  She was
+game; but the young man chose to give it a different meaning. She was
 still fighting against her fate; but she was going to Europe, and she
-was not returning to her husband.  Nothing, therefore, was to prevent
+was not returning to her husband. Nothing, therefore, was to prevent
 his following her; and once he had taken the irrevocable step, and had
 proved to her that it was irrevocable, he believed she would not send
 him away.
 
 This confidence in the future had steadied him to play his part in the
-present.  It had kept him from writing to her, or betraying, by any
-sign or act, his misery and mortification.  It seemed to him that in
-the deadly silent game between them the trumps were still in his hands;
-and he waited.
+present. It had kept him from writing to her, or betraying, by any sign
+or act, his misery and mortification. It seemed to him that in the
+deadly silent game between them the trumps were still in his hands; and
+he waited.
 
 There had been, nevertheless, moments sufficiently difficult to pass;
 as when Mr. Letterblair, the day after Madame Olenska's departure, had
 sent for him to go over the details of the trust which Mrs. Manson
-Mingott wished to create for her granddaughter.  For a couple of hours
+Mingott wished to create for her granddaughter. For a couple of hours
 Archer had examined the terms of the deed with his senior, all the
 while obscurely feeling that if he had been consulted it was for some
 reason other than the obvious one of his cousinship; and that the close
@@ -10537,30 +10525,30 @@ of the conference would reveal it.
 
 "Well, the lady can't deny that it's a handsome arrangement," Mr.
 Letterblair had summed up, after mumbling over a summary of the
-settlement.  "In fact I'm bound to say she's been treated pretty
+settlement. "In fact I'm bound to say she's been treated pretty
 handsomely all round."
 
-"All round?" Archer echoed with a touch of derision.  "Do you refer to
+"All round?" Archer echoed with a touch of derision. "Do you refer to
 her husband's proposal to give her back her own money?"
 
-Mr. Letterblair's bushy eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch.  "My
+Mr. Letterblair's bushy eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch. "My
 dear sir, the law's the law; and your wife's cousin was married under
-the French law.  It's to be presumed she knew what that meant."
+the French law. It's to be presumed she knew what that meant."
 
-"Even if she did, what happened subsequently--."  But Archer paused.
-Mr. Letterblair had laid his pen-handle against his big corrugated
-nose, and was looking down it with the expression assumed by virtuous
-elderly gentlemen when they wish their youngers to understand that
-virtue is not synonymous with ignorance.
+"Even if she did, what happened subsequently--." But Archer paused. Mr.
+Letterblair had laid his pen-handle against his big corrugated nose,
+and was looking down it with the expression assumed by virtuous elderly
+gentlemen when they wish their youngers to understand that virtue is
+not synonymous with ignorance.
 
 "My dear sir, I've no wish to extenuate the Count's transgressions;
-but--but on the other side ... I wouldn't put my hand in the fire ...
-well, that there hadn't been tit for tat ... with the young
-champion...."  Mr. Letterblair unlocked a drawer and pushed a folded
-paper toward Archer.  "This report, the result of discreet enquiries
-..."  And then, as Archer made no effort to glance at the paper or to
-repudiate the suggestion, the lawyer somewhat flatly continued:  "I
-don't say it's conclusive, you observe; far from it.  But straws show
+but--but on the other side ... I wouldn't put my hand in the fire
+... well, that there hadn't been tit for tat ... with the young
+champion...." Mr. Letterblair unlocked a drawer and pushed a folded
+paper toward Archer. "This report, the result of discreet enquiries
+..." And then, as Archer made no effort to glance at the paper or to
+repudiate the suggestion, the lawyer somewhat flatly continued: "I
+don't say it's conclusive, you observe; far from it. But straws show
 ... and on the whole it's eminently satisfactory for all parties that
 this dignified solution has been reached."
 
@@ -10572,39 +10560,39 @@ Mingott, his soul had been more deeply tried.
 He had found the old lady depressed and querulous.
 
 "You know she's deserted me?" she began at once; and without waiting
-for his reply:  "Oh, don't ask me why!  She gave so many reasons that
-I've forgotten them all.  My private belief is that she couldn't face
-the boredom.  At any rate that's what Augusta and my daughters-in-law
-think.  And I don't know that I altogether blame her.  Olenski's a
+for his reply: "Oh, don't ask me why! She gave so many reasons that
+I've forgotten them all. My private belief is that she couldn't face
+the boredom. At any rate that's what Augusta and my daughters-in-law
+think. And I don't know that I altogether blame her. Olenski's a
 finished scoundrel; but life with him must have been a good deal gayer
-than it is in Fifth Avenue.  Not that the family would admit that: they
-think Fifth Avenue is Heaven with the rue de la Paix thrown in.  And
-poor Ellen, of course, has no idea of going back to her husband.  She
-held out as firmly as ever against that.  So she's to settle down in
-Paris with that fool Medora....  Well, Paris is Paris; and you can keep
-a carriage there on next to nothing.  But she was as gay as a bird, and
+than it is in Fifth Avenue. Not that the family would admit that: they
+think Fifth Avenue is Heaven with the rue de la Paix thrown in. And
+poor Ellen, of course, has no idea of going back to her husband. She
+held out as firmly as ever against that. So she's to settle down in
+Paris with that fool Medora.... Well, Paris is Paris; and you can keep
+a carriage there on next to nothing. But she was as gay as a bird, and
 I shall miss her." Two tears, the parched tears of the old, rolled down
 her puffy cheeks and vanished in the abysses of her bosom.
 
 "All I ask is," she concluded, "that they shouldn't bother me any more.
-I must really be allowed to digest my gruel...."  And she twinkled a
+I must really be allowed to digest my gruel...." And she twinkled a
 little wistfully at Archer.
 
 It was that evening, on his return home, that May announced her
-intention of giving a farewell dinner to her cousin.  Madame Olenska's
+intention of giving a farewell dinner to her cousin. Madame Olenska's
 name had not been pronounced between them since the night of her flight
 to Washington; and Archer looked at his wife with surprise.
 
 "A dinner--why?" he interrogated.
 
-Her colour rose.  "But you like Ellen--I thought you'd be pleased."
+Her colour rose. "But you like Ellen--I thought you'd be pleased."
 
-"It's awfully nice--your putting it in that way.  But I really don't
+"It's awfully nice--your putting it in that way. But I really don't
 see--"
 
 "I mean to do it, Newland," she said, quietly rising and going to her
-desk.  "Here are the invitations all written.  Mother helped me--she
-agrees that we ought to."  She paused, embarrassed and yet smiling, and
+desk. "Here are the invitations all written. Mother helped me--she
+agrees that we ought to." She paused, embarrassed and yet smiling, and
 Archer suddenly saw before him the embodied image of the Family.
 
 "Oh, all right," he said, staring with unseeing eyes at the list of
@@ -10616,60 +10604,59 @@ setting of immaculate tiles.
 
 The tall lamps were all lit, and Mr. van der Luyden's orchids had been
 conspicuously disposed in various receptacles of modern porcelain and
-knobby silver.  Mrs. Newland Archer's drawing-room was generally
-thought a great success.  A gilt bamboo jardiniere, in which the
-primulas and cinerarias were punctually renewed, blocked the access to
-the bay window (where the old-fashioned would have preferred a bronze
-reduction of the Venus of Milo); the sofas and arm-chairs of pale
-brocade were cleverly grouped about little plush tables densely covered
-with silver toys, porcelain animals and efflorescent photograph frames;
-and tall rosy-shaded lamps shot up like tropical flowers among the
-palms.
+knobby silver. Mrs. Newland Archer's drawing-room was generally thought
+a great success. A gilt bamboo _jardinière_, in which the primulas and
+cinerarias were punctually renewed, blocked the access to the bay
+window (where the old-fashioned would have preferred a bronze reduction
+of the Venus of Milo); the sofas and arm-chairs of pale brocade were
+cleverly grouped about little plush tables densely covered with silver
+toys, porcelain animals and efflorescent photograph frames; and tall
+rosy-shaded lamps shot up like tropical flowers among the palms.
 
 "I don't think Ellen has ever seen this room lighted up," said May,
 rising flushed from her struggle, and sending about her a glance of
-pardonable pride.  The brass tongs which she had propped against the
+pardonable pride. The brass tongs which she had propped against the
 side of the chimney fell with a crash that drowned her husband's
 answer; and before he could restore them Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden
 were announced.
 
 The other guests quickly followed, for it was known that the van der
-Luydens liked to dine punctually.  The room was nearly full, and Archer
+Luydens liked to dine punctually. The room was nearly full, and Archer
 was engaged in showing to Mrs. Selfridge Merry a small highly-varnished
 Verbeckhoven "Study of Sheep," which Mr. Welland had given May for
 Christmas, when he found Madame Olenska at his side.
 
 She was excessively pale, and her pallor made her dark hair seem denser
-and heavier than ever.  Perhaps that, or the fact that she had wound
+and heavier than ever. Perhaps that, or the fact that she had wound
 several rows of amber beads about her neck, reminded him suddenly of
 the little Ellen Mingott he had danced with at children's parties, when
 Medora Manson had first brought her to New York.
 
-The amber beads were trying to her complexion, or her dress was perhaps
-unbecoming: her face looked lustreless and almost ugly, and he had
-never loved it as he did at that minute.  Their hands met, and he
-thought he heard her say:  "Yes, we're sailing tomorrow in the
+The amber beads were trying to her complexion, or her dress was
+perhaps unbecoming: her face looked lustreless and almost ugly, and
+he had never loved it as he did at that minute. Their hands met, and
+he thought he heard her say: "Yes, we're sailing tomorrow in the
 Russia--"; then there was an unmeaning noise of opening doors, and
-after an interval May's voice:  "Newland!  Dinner's been announced.
-Won't you please take Ellen in?"
+after an interval May's voice: "Newland! Dinner's been announced. Won't
+you please take Ellen in?"
 
 Madame Olenska put her hand on his arm, and he noticed that the hand
 was ungloved, and remembered how he had kept his eyes fixed on it the
 evening that he had sat with her in the little Twenty-third Street
-drawing-room.  All the beauty that had forsaken her face seemed to have
+drawing-room. All the beauty that had forsaken her face seemed to have
 taken refuge in the long pale fingers and faintly dimpled knuckles on
 his sleeve, and he said to himself: "If it were only to see her hand
-again I  should  have  to follow her--."
+again I should have to follow her--."
 
 It was only at an entertainment ostensibly offered to a "foreign
 visitor" that Mrs. van der Luyden could suffer the diminution of being
-placed on her host's left.  The fact of Madame Olenska's "foreignness"
+placed on her host's left. The fact of Madame Olenska's "foreignness"
 could hardly have been more adroitly emphasised than by this farewell
 tribute; and Mrs. van der Luyden accepted her displacement with an
-affability which left no doubt as to her approval.  There were certain
+affability which left no doubt as to her approval. There were certain
 things that had to be done, and if done at all, done handsomely and
 thoroughly; and one of these, in the old New York code, was the tribal
-rally around a kinswoman about to be eliminated from the tribe.  There
+rally around a kinswoman about to be eliminated from the tribe. There
 was nothing on earth that the Wellands and Mingotts would not have done
 to proclaim their unalterable affection for the Countess Olenska now
 that her passage for Europe was engaged; and Archer, at the head of his
@@ -10682,16 +10669,16 @@ at May's right, cast down the table glances plainly intended to justify
 all the carnations he had sent from Skuytercliff.
 
 Archer, who seemed to be assisting at the scene in a state of odd
-imponderability, as if he floated somewhere between chandelier and
-ceiling, wondered at nothing so much as his own share in the
-proceedings.  As his glance travelled from one placid well-fed face to
-another he saw all the harmless-looking people engaged upon May's
+imponderability, as if he floated somewhere between chandelier
+and ceiling, wondered at nothing so much as his own share in the
+proceedings. As his glance travelled from one placid well-fed face
+to another he saw all the harmless-looking people engaged upon May's
 canvas-backs as a band of dumb conspirators, and himself and the pale
-woman on his right as the centre of their conspiracy.  And then it came
-over him, in a vast flash made up of many broken gleams, that to all of
-them he and Madame Olenska were lovers, lovers in the extreme sense
-peculiar to "foreign" vocabularies.  He guessed himself to have been,
-for months, the centre of countless silently observing eyes and
+woman on his right as the centre of their conspiracy. And then it
+came over him, in a vast flash made up of many broken gleams, that to
+all of them he and Madame Olenska were lovers, lovers in the extreme
+sense peculiar to "foreign" vocabularies. He guessed himself to have
+been, for months, the centre of countless silently observing eyes and
 patiently listening ears; he understood that, by means as yet unknown
 to him, the separation between himself and the partner of his guilt had
 been achieved, and that now the whole tribe had rallied about his wife
@@ -10700,35 +10687,34 @@ anything, and that the occasion of the entertainment was simply May
 Archer's natural desire to take an affectionate leave of her friend and
 cousin.
 
-It was the old New York way of taking life "without effusion of blood":
-the way of people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who placed
-decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more
+It was the old New York way of taking life "without effusion of
+blood": the way of people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who
+placed decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more
 ill-bred than "scenes," except the behaviour of those who gave rise to
 them.
 
 As these thoughts succeeded each other in his mind Archer felt like a
-prisoner in the centre of an armed camp.  He looked about the table,
-and guessed at the inexorableness of his captors from the tone in
-which, over the asparagus from Florida, they were dealing with Beaufort
-and his wife.  "It's to show me," he thought, "what would happen to
-ME--" and a deathly sense of the superiority of implication and analogy
-over direct action, and of silence over rash words, closed in on him
-like the doors of the family vault.
+prisoner in the centre of an armed camp. He looked about the table, and
+guessed at the inexorableness of his captors from the tone in which,
+over the asparagus from Florida, they were dealing with Beaufort and
+his wife. "It's to show me," he thought, "what would happen to _me_--"
+and a deathly sense of the superiority of implication and analogy over
+direct action, and of silence over rash words, closed in on him like
+the doors of the family vault.
 
 He laughed, and met Mrs. van der Luyden's startled eyes.
 
-"You think it laughable?" she said with a pinched smile.  "Of course
+"You think it laughable?" she said with a pinched smile. "Of course
 poor Regina's idea of remaining in New York has its ridiculous side, I
-suppose;" and Archer muttered:  "Of course."
+suppose;" and Archer muttered: "Of course."
 
 At this point, he became conscious that Madame Olenska's other
-neighbour had been engaged for some time with the lady on his right.
-At the same moment he saw that May, serenely enthroned between Mr. van
-der Luyden and Mr. Selfridge Merry, had cast a quick glance down the
-table.  It was evident that the host and the lady on his right could
-not sit through the whole meal in silence.  He turned to Madame
-Olenska, and her pale smile met him.  "Oh, do let's see it through," it
-seemed to say.
+neighbour had been engaged for some time with the lady on his right. At
+the same moment he saw that May, serenely enthroned between Mr. van der
+Luyden and Mr. Selfridge Merry, had cast a quick glance down the table.
+It was evident that the host and the lady on his right could not sit
+through the whole meal in silence. He turned to Madame Olenska, and her
+pale smile met him. "Oh, do let's see it through," it seemed to say.
 
 "Did you find the journey tiring?" he asked in a voice that surprised
 him by its naturalness; and she answered that, on the contrary, she had
@@ -10743,24 +10729,24 @@ once, in April, in the train between Calais and Paris."
 
 She said she did not wonder, but remarked that, after all, one could
 always carry an extra rug, and that every form of travel had its
-hardships; to which he abruptly returned that he thought them all of no
-account compared with the blessedness of getting away.  She changed
-colour, and he added, his voice suddenly rising in pitch:  "I mean to
-do a lot of travelling myself before long."  A tremor crossed her face,
-and leaning over to Reggie Chivers, he cried out:  "I say, Reggie, what
-do you say to a trip round the world: now, next month, I mean?  I'm
+hardships; to which he abruptly returned that he thought them all of
+no account compared with the blessedness of getting away. She changed
+colour, and he added, his voice suddenly rising in pitch: "I mean to
+do a lot of travelling myself before long." A tremor crossed her face,
+and leaning over to Reggie Chivers, he cried out: "I say, Reggie, what
+do you say to a trip round the world: now, next month, I mean? I'm
 game if you are--" at which Mrs. Reggie piped up that she could not
 think of letting Reggie go till after the Martha Washington Ball she
 was getting up for the Blind Asylum in Easter week; and her husband
 placidly observed that by that time he would have to be practising for
 the International Polo match.
 
-But Mr. Selfridge Merry had caught the phrase "round the world," and
-having once circled the globe in his steam-yacht, he seized the
+But Mr. Selfridge Merry had caught the phrase "round the world,"
+and having once circled the globe in his steam-yacht, he seized the
 opportunity to send down the table several striking items concerning
-the shallowness of the Mediterranean ports.  Though, after all, he
+the shallowness of the Mediterranean ports. Though, after all, he
 added, it didn't matter; for when you'd seen Athens and Smyrna and
-Constantinople, what else was there?  And Mrs. Merry said she could
+Constantinople, what else was there? And Mrs. Merry said she could
 never be too grateful to Dr. Bencomb for having made them promise not
 to go to Naples on account of the fever.
 
@@ -10779,15 +10765,15 @@ arm-chairs tacitly reserved for them, paused to listen to the younger
 man's philippic.
 
 Never had Lefferts so abounded in the sentiments that adorn Christian
-manhood and exalt the sanctity of the home.  Indignation lent him a
+manhood and exalt the sanctity of the home. Indignation lent him a
 scathing eloquence, and it was clear that if others had followed his
 example, and acted as he talked, society would never have been weak
-enough to receive a foreign upstart like Beaufort--no, sir, not even if
-he'd married a van der Luyden or a Lanning instead of a Dallas.  And
-what chance would there have been, Lefferts wrathfully questioned, of
-his marrying into such a family as the Dallases, if he had not already
-wormed his way into certain houses, as people like Mrs. Lemuel
-Struthers had managed to worm theirs in his wake?  If society chose to
+enough to receive a foreign upstart like Beaufort--no, sir, not even
+if he'd married a van der Luyden or a Lanning instead of a Dallas. And
+what chance would there have been, Lefferts wrathfully questioned,
+of his marrying into such a family as the Dallases, if he had not
+already wormed his way into certain houses, as people like Mrs. Lemuel
+Struthers had managed to worm theirs in his wake? If society chose to
 open its doors to vulgar women the harm was not great, though the gain
 was doubtful; but once it got in the way of tolerating men of obscure
 origin and tainted wealth the end was total disintegration--and at no
@@ -10804,43 +10790,43 @@ of pain and disgust settled on Mr. van der Luyden's sensitive face.
 
 "Has he got any?" cried Mr. Sillerton Jackson, pricking up his ears;
 and while Lefferts tried to turn the question with a laugh, the old
-gentleman twittered into Archer's ear:  "Queer, those fellows who are
-always wanting to set things right.  The people who have the worst
-cooks are always telling you they're poisoned when they dine out.  But
-I hear there are pressing reasons for our friend Lawrence's
+gentleman twittered into Archer's ear: "Queer, those fellows who are
+always wanting to set things right. The people who have the worst
+cooks are always telling you they're poisoned when they dine out.
+But I hear there are pressing reasons for our friend Lawrence's
 diatribe:--typewriter this time, I understand...."
 
 The talk swept past Archer like some senseless river running and
-running because it did not know enough to stop.  He saw, on the faces
-about him, expressions of interest, amusement and even mirth.  He
+running because it did not know enough to stop. He saw, on the faces
+about him, expressions of interest, amusement and even mirth. He
 listened to the younger men's laughter, and to the praise of the Archer
 Madeira, which Mr. van der Luyden and Mr. Merry were thoughtfully
-celebrating.  Through it all he was dimly aware of a general attitude
-of friendliness toward himself, as if the guard of the prisoner he felt
+celebrating. Through it all he was dimly aware of a general attitude of
+friendliness toward himself, as if the guard of the prisoner he felt
 himself to be were trying to soften his captivity; and the perception
 increased his passionate determination to be free.
 
 In the drawing-room, where they presently joined the ladies, he met
 May's triumphant eyes, and read in them the conviction that everything
-had "gone off" beautifully.  She rose from Madame Olenska's side, and
+had "gone off" beautifully. She rose from Madame Olenska's side, and
 immediately Mrs. van der Luyden beckoned the latter to a seat on the
-gilt sofa where she throned.  Mrs. Selfridge Merry bore across the room
-to join them, and it became clear to Archer that here also a conspiracy
-of rehabilitation and obliteration was going on.  The silent
+gilt sofa where she throned. Mrs. Selfridge Merry bore across the
+room to join them, and it became clear to Archer that here also a
+conspiracy of rehabilitation and obliteration was going on. The silent
 organisation which held his little world together was determined to put
 itself on record as never for a moment having questioned the propriety
 of Madame Olenska's conduct, or the completeness of Archer's domestic
-felicity.  All these amiable and inexorable persons were resolutely
+felicity. All these amiable and inexorable persons were resolutely
 engaged in pretending to each other that they had never heard of,
 suspected, or even conceived possible, the least hint to the contrary;
 and from this tissue of elaborate mutual dissimulation Archer once more
 disengaged the fact that New York believed him to be Madame Olenska's
-lover.  He caught the glitter of victory in his wife's eyes, and for
-the first time understood that she shared the belief.  The discovery
-roused a laughter of inner devils that reverberated through all his
-efforts to discuss the Martha Washington ball with Mrs. Reggie Chivers
-and little Mrs. Newland; and so the evening swept on, running and
-running like a senseless river that did not know how to stop.
+lover. He caught the glitter of victory in his wife's eyes, and for the
+first time understood that she shared the belief. The discovery roused
+a laughter of inner devils that reverberated through all his efforts to
+discuss the Martha Washington ball with Mrs. Reggie Chivers and little
+Mrs. Newland; and so the evening swept on, running and running like a
+senseless river that did not know how to stop.
 
 At length he saw that Madame Olenska had risen and was saying good-bye.
 He understood that in a moment she would be gone, and tried to remember
@@ -10848,7 +10834,7 @@ what he had said to her at dinner; but he could not recall a single
 word they had exchanged.
 
 She went up to May, the rest of the company making a circle about her
-as she advanced.  The two young women clasped hands; then May bent
+as she advanced. The two young women clasped hands; then May bent
 forward and kissed her cousin.
 
 "Certainly our hostess is much the handsomer of the two," Archer heard
@@ -10859,91 +10845,90 @@ A moment later he was in the hall, putting Madame Olenska's cloak about
 her shoulders.
 
 Through all his confusion of mind he had held fast to the resolve to
-say nothing that might startle or disturb her.  Convinced that no power
+say nothing that might startle or disturb her. Convinced that no power
 could now turn him from his purpose he had found strength to let events
-shape themselves as they would.  But as he followed Madame Olenska into
+shape themselves as they would. But as he followed Madame Olenska into
 the hall he thought with a sudden hunger of being for a moment alone
 with her at the door of her carriage.
 
 "Is your carriage here?" he asked; and at that moment Mrs. van der
 Luyden, who was being majestically inserted into her sables, said
-gently:  "We are driving dear Ellen home."
+gently: "We are driving dear Ellen home."
 
 Archer's heart gave a jerk, and Madame Olenska, clasping her cloak and
-fan with one hand, held out the other to him.  "Good-bye," she said.
+fan with one hand, held out the other to him. "Good-bye," she said.
 
 "Good-bye--but I shall see you soon in Paris," he answered aloud--it
 seemed to him that he had shouted it.
 
 "Oh," she murmured, "if you and May could come--!"
 
-Mr. van der Luyden advanced to give her his arm, and Archer turned to
-Mrs. van der Luyden.  For a moment, in the billowy darkness inside the
-big landau, he caught the dim oval of a face, eyes shining
+Mr. van der Luyden advanced to give her his arm, and Archer turned
+to Mrs. van der Luyden. For a moment, in the billowy darkness inside
+the big landau, he caught the dim oval of a face, eyes shining
 steadily--and she was gone.
 
 As he went up the steps he crossed Lawrence Lefferts coming down with
-his wife.  Lefferts caught his host by the sleeve, drawing back to let
+his wife. Lefferts caught his host by the sleeve, drawing back to let
 Gertrude pass.
 
 "I say, old chap: do you mind just letting it be understood that I'm
-dining with you at the club tomorrow night?  Thanks so much, you old
-brick!  Good-night."
+dining with you at the club tomorrow night? Thanks so much, you old
+brick! Good-night."
 
-"It DID go off beautifully, didn't it?" May questioned from the
+"It _did_ go off beautifully, didn't it?" May questioned from the
 threshold of the library.
 
-Archer roused himself with a start.  As soon as the last carriage had
+Archer roused himself with a start. As soon as the last carriage had
 driven away, he had come up to the library and shut himself in, with
-the hope that his wife, who still lingered below, would go straight to
-her room.  But there she stood, pale and drawn, yet radiating the
+the hope that his wife, who still lingered below, would go straight
+to her room. But there she stood, pale and drawn, yet radiating the
 factitious energy of one who has passed beyond fatigue.
 
 "May I come and talk it over?" she asked.
 
-"Of course, if you like.  But you must be awfully sleepy--"
+"Of course, if you like. But you must be awfully sleepy--"
 
-"No, I'm not sleepy.  I should like to sit with you a little."
+"No, I'm not sleepy. I should like to sit with you a little."
 
 "Very well," he said, pushing her chair near the fire.
 
 She sat down and he resumed his seat; but neither spoke for a long
-time.  At length Archer began abruptly: "Since you're not tired, and
-want to talk, there's something I must tell you.  I tried to the other
+time. At length Archer began abruptly: "Since you're not tired, and
+want to talk, there's something I must tell you. I tried to the other
 night--."
 
-She looked at him quickly.  "Yes, dear.  Something about yourself?"
+She looked at him quickly. "Yes, dear. Something about yourself?"
 
-"About myself.  You say you're not tired: well, I am.  Horribly tired
-..."
+"About myself. You say you're not tired: well, I am. Horribly tired ..."
 
-In an instant she was all tender anxiety.  "Oh, I've seen it coming on,
-Newland!  You've been so wickedly overworked--"
+In an instant she was all tender anxiety. "Oh, I've seen it coming on,
+Newland! You've been so wickedly overworked--"
 
-"Perhaps it's that.  Anyhow, I want to make a break--"
+"Perhaps it's that. Anyhow, I want to make a break--"
 
-"A break?  To give up the law?"
+"A break? To give up the law?"
 
-"To go away, at any rate--at once.  On a long trip, ever so far
+"To go away, at any rate--at once. On a long trip, ever so far
 off--away from everything--"
 
 He paused, conscious that he had failed in his attempt to speak with
 the indifference of a man who longs for a change, and is yet too weary
-to welcome it.  Do what he would, the chord of eagerness vibrated.
-"Away from everything--" he repeated.
+to welcome it. Do what he would, the chord of eagerness vibrated. "Away
+from everything--" he repeated.
 
-"Ever so far?  Where, for instance?" she asked.
+"Ever so far? Where, for instance?" she asked.
 
-"Oh, I don't know.  India--or Japan."
+"Oh, I don't know. India--or Japan."
 
 She stood up, and as he sat with bent head, his chin propped on his
 hands, he felt her warmly and fragrantly hovering over him.
 
-"As far as that?  But I'm afraid you can't, dear ..." she said in an
-unsteady voice.  "Not unless you'll take me with you."  And then, as he
+"As far as that? But I'm afraid you can't, dear ..." she said in an
+unsteady voice. "Not unless you'll take me with you." And then, as he
 was silent, she went on, in tones so clear and evenly-pitched that each
-separate syllable tapped like a little hammer on his brain:  "That is,
-if the doctors will let me go ... but I'm afraid they won't.  For you
+separate syllable tapped like a little hammer on his brain: "That is,
+if the doctors will let me go ... but I'm afraid they won't. For you
 see, Newland, I've been sure since this morning of something I've been
 so longing and hoping for--"
 
@@ -10958,41 +10943,42 @@ laughter; then May freed herself from his arms and stood up.
 
 "You didn't guess--?"
 
-"Yes--I; no.  That is, of course I hoped--"
+"Yes--I; no. That is, of course I hoped--"
 
 They looked at each other for an instant and again fell silent; then,
-turning his eyes from hers, he asked abruptly:  "Have you told any one
+turning his eyes from hers, he asked abruptly: "Have you told any one
 else?"
 
-"Only Mamma and your mother."  She paused, and then added hurriedly,
-the blood flushing up to her forehead:  "That is--and Ellen.  You know
-I told you we'd had a long talk one afternoon--and how dear she was to
-me."
+"Only Mamma and your mother." She paused, and then added hurriedly, the
+blood flushing up to her forehead: "That is--and Ellen. You know I told
+you we'd had a long talk one afternoon--and how dear she was to me."
 
 "Ah--" said Archer, his heart stopping.
 
-He felt that his wife was watching him intently.  "Did you MIND my
+He felt that his wife was watching him intently. "Did you _mind_ my
 telling her first, Newland?"
 
-"Mind?  Why should I?"  He made a last effort to collect himself.  "But
-that was a fortnight ago, wasn't it?  I thought you said you weren't
+"Mind? Why should I?" He made a last effort to collect himself. "But
+that was a fortnight ago, wasn't it? I thought you said you weren't
 sure till today."
 
-Her colour burned deeper, but she held his gaze.  "No; I wasn't sure
-then--but I told her I was.  And you see I was right!" she exclaimed,
+Her colour burned deeper, but she held his gaze. "No; I wasn't sure
+then--but I told her I was. And you see I was right!" she exclaimed,
 her blue eyes wet with victory.
 
 
 
+
 XXXIV.
 
+
 Newland Archer sat at the writing-table in his library in East
 Thirty-ninth Street.
 
 He had just got back from a big official reception for the inauguration
-of the new galleries at the Metropolitan Museum, and the spectacle of
-those great spaces crowded with the spoils of the ages, where the
-throng of fashion circulated through a series of scientifically
+of the new galleries at the Metropolitan Museum, and the spectacle
+of those great spaces crowded with the spoils of the ages, where
+the throng of fashion circulated through a series of scientifically
 catalogued treasures, had suddenly pressed on a rusted spring of memory.
 
 "Why, this used to be one of the old Cesnola rooms," he heard some one
@@ -11006,20 +10992,20 @@ with new eyes at the library which, for over thirty years, had been the
 scene of his solitary musings and of all the family confabulations.
 
 It was the room in which most of the real things of his life had
-happened.  There his wife, nearly twenty-six years ago, had broken to
+happened. There his wife, nearly twenty-six years ago, had broken to
 him, with a blushing circumlocution that would have caused the young
 women of the new generation to smile, the news that she was to have a
-child; and there their eldest boy, Dallas, too delicate to be taken to
-church in midwinter, had been christened by their old friend the Bishop
-of New York, the ample magnificent irreplaceable Bishop, so long the
-pride and ornament of his diocese.  There Dallas had first staggered
-across the floor shouting "Dad," while May and the nurse laughed behind
-the door; there their second child, Mary (who was so like her mother),
-had announced her engagement to the dullest and most reliable of Reggie
-Chivers's many sons; and there Archer had kissed her through her
-wedding veil before they went down to the motor which was to carry them
-to Grace Church--for in a world where all else had reeled on its
-foundations the "Grace Church wedding" remained an unchanged
+child; and there their eldest boy, Dallas, too delicate to be taken
+to church in midwinter, had been christened by their old friend the
+Bishop of New York, the ample magnificent irreplaceable Bishop, so
+long the pride and ornament of his diocese. There Dallas had first
+staggered across the floor shouting "Dad," while May and the nurse
+laughed behind the door; there their second child, Mary (who was so
+like her mother), had announced her engagement to the dullest and most
+reliable of Reggie Chivers's many sons; and there Archer had kissed her
+through her wedding veil before they went down to the motor which was
+to carry them to Grace Church--for in a world where all else had reeled
+on its foundations the "Grace Church wedding" remained an unchanged
 institution.
 
 It was in the library that he and May had always discussed the future
@@ -11030,73 +11016,73 @@ finally landed the restless and curious Dallas in the office of a
 rising New York architect.
 
 The young men nowadays were emancipating themselves from the law and
-business and taking up all sorts of new things.  If they were not
+business and taking up all sorts of new things. If they were not
 absorbed in state politics or municipal reform, the chances were that
-they were going in for Central American archaeology, for architecture
-or landscape-engineering; taking a keen and learned interest in the
-prerevolutionary buildings of their own country, studying and adapting
-Georgian types, and protesting at the meaningless use of the word
-"Colonial."  Nobody nowadays had "Colonial" houses except the
+they were going in for Central American archæology, for architecture
+or landscape-engineering; taking a keen and learned interest in
+the prerevolutionary buildings of their own country, studying and
+adapting Georgian types, and protesting at the meaningless use of the
+word "Colonial." Nobody nowadays had "Colonial" houses except the
 millionaire grocers of the suburbs.
 
 But above all--sometimes Archer put it above all--it was in that
 library that the Governor of New York, coming down from Albany one
 evening to dine and spend the night, had turned to his host, and said,
 banging his clenched fist on the table and gnashing his eye-glasses:
-"Hang the professional politician!  You're the kind of man the country
-wants, Archer.  If the stable's ever to be cleaned out, men like you
+"Hang the professional politician! You're the kind of man the country
+wants, Archer. If the stable's ever to be cleaned out, men like you
 have got to lend a hand in the cleaning."
 
-"Men like you--" how Archer had glowed at the phrase!  How eagerly he
-had risen up at the call!  It was an echo of Ned Winsett's old appeal
+"Men like you--" how Archer had glowed at the phrase! How eagerly he
+had risen up at the call! It was an echo of Ned Winsett's old appeal
 to roll his sleeves up and get down into the muck; but spoken by a man
 who set the example of the gesture, and whose summons to follow him was
 irresistible.
 
-Archer, as he looked back, was not sure that men like himself WERE what
+Archer, as he looked back, was not sure that men like himself _were_ what
 his country needed, at least in the active service to which Theodore
 Roosevelt had pointed; in fact, there was reason to think it did not,
 for after a year in the State Assembly he had not been re-elected, and
 had dropped back thankfully into obscure if useful municipal work, and
 from that again to the writing of occasional articles in one of the
 reforming weeklies that were trying to shake the country out of its
-apathy.  It was little enough to look back on; but when he remembered
+apathy. It was little enough to look back on; but when he remembered
 to what the young men of his generation and his set had looked
 forward--the narrow groove of money-making, sport and society to which
 their vision had been limited--even his small contribution to the new
 state of things seemed to count, as each brick counts in a well-built
-wall.  He had done little in public life; he would always be by nature
+wall. He had done little in public life; he would always be by nature
 a contemplative and a dilettante; but he had had high things to
 contemplate, great things to delight in; and one great man's friendship
 to be his strength and pride.
 
 He had been, in short, what people were beginning to call "a good
-citizen."  In New York, for many years past, every new movement,
-philanthropic, municipal or artistic, had taken account of his opinion
-and wanted his name.  People said:  "Ask Archer" when there was a
-question of starting the first school for crippled children,
+citizen." In New York, for many years past, every new movement,
+philanthropic, municipal or artistic, had taken account of his
+opinion and wanted his name. People said: "Ask Archer" when there
+was a question of starting the first school for crippled children,
 reorganising the Museum of Art, founding the Grolier Club, inaugurating
-the new Library, or getting up a new society of chamber music.  His
-days were full, and they were filled decently.  He supposed it was all
-a man ought to ask.
-
-Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life.  But he thought of
-it now as a thing so unattainable and improbable that to have repined
-would have been like despairing because one had not drawn the first
-prize in a lottery.  There were a hundred million tickets in HIS
-lottery, and there was only one prize; the chances had been too
-decidedly against him.  When he thought of Ellen Olenska it was
-abstractly, serenely, as one might think of some imaginary beloved in a
-book or a picture: she had become the composite vision of all that he
-had missed.  That vision, faint and tenuous as it was, had kept him
-from thinking of other women.  He had been what was called a faithful
+the new Library, or getting up a new society of chamber music. His days
+were full, and they were filled decently. He supposed it was all a man
+ought to ask.
+
+Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life. But he thought
+of it now as a thing so unattainable and improbable that to have
+repined would have been like despairing because one had not drawn
+the first prize in a lottery. There were a hundred million tickets
+in _his_ lottery, and there was only one prize; the chances had been
+too decidedly against him. When he thought of Ellen Olenska it was
+abstractly, serenely, as one might think of some imaginary beloved in
+a book or a picture: she had become the composite vision of all that
+he had missed. That vision, faint and tenuous as it was, had kept him
+from thinking of other women. He had been what was called a faithful
 husband; and when May had suddenly died--carried off by the infectious
 pneumonia through which she had nursed their youngest child--he had
-honestly mourned her.  Their long years together had shown him that it
-did not so much matter if marriage was a dull duty, as long as it kept
-the dignity of a duty: lapsing from that, it became a mere battle of
-ugly appetites.  Looking about him, he honoured his own past, and
-mourned for it.  After all, there was good in the old ways.
+honestly mourned her. Their long years together had shown him that
+it did not so much matter if marriage was a dull duty, as long as it
+kept the dignity of a duty: lapsing from that, it became a mere battle
+of ugly appetites. Looking about him, he honoured his own past, and
+mourned for it. After all, there was good in the old ways.
 
 His eyes, making the round of the room--done over by Dallas with
 English mezzotints, Chippendale cabinets, bits of chosen blue-and-white
@@ -11106,40 +11092,40 @@ first photograph of May, which still kept its place beside his inkstand.
 
 There she was, tall, round-bosomed and willowy, in her starched muslin
 and flapping Leghorn, as he had seen her under the orange-trees in the
-Mission garden.  And as he had seen her that day, so she had remained;
+Mission garden. And as he had seen her that day, so she had remained;
 never quite at the same height, yet never far below it: generous,
 faithful, unwearied; but so lacking in imagination, so incapable of
 growth, that the world of her youth had fallen into pieces and rebuilt
-itself without her ever being conscious of the change.  This hard
-bright blindness had kept her immediate horizon apparently unaltered.
-Her incapacity to recognise change made her children conceal their
-views from her as Archer concealed his; there had been, from the first,
-a joint pretence of sameness, a kind of innocent family hypocrisy, in
-which father and children had unconsciously collaborated.  And she had
+itself without her ever being conscious of the change. This hard bright
+blindness had kept her immediate horizon apparently unaltered. Her
+incapacity to recognise change made her children conceal their views
+from her as Archer concealed his; there had been, from the first, a
+joint pretence of sameness, a kind of innocent family hypocrisy, in
+which father and children had unconsciously collaborated. And she had
 died thinking the world a good place, full of loving and harmonious
 households like her own, and resigned to leave it because she was
 convinced that, whatever happened, Newland would continue to inculcate
 in Dallas the same principles and prejudices which had shaped his
 parents' lives, and that Dallas in turn (when Newland followed her)
-would transmit the sacred trust to little Bill.  And of Mary she was
-sure as of her own self.  So, having snatched little Bill from the
+would transmit the sacred trust to little Bill. And of Mary she was
+sure as of her own self. So, having snatched little Bill from the
 grave, and given her life in the effort, she went contentedly to her
-place in the Archer vault in St.  Mark's, where Mrs. Archer already lay
+place in the Archer vault in St. Mark's, where Mrs. Archer already lay
 safe from the terrifying "trend" which her daughter-in-law had never
 even become aware of.
 
-Opposite May's portrait stood one of her daughter.  Mary Chivers was as
-tall and fair as her mother, but large-waisted, flat-chested and
-slightly slouching, as the altered fashion required.  Mary Chivers's
+Opposite May's portrait stood one of her daughter. Mary Chivers was
+as tall and fair as her mother, but large-waisted, flat-chested and
+slightly slouching, as the altered fashion required. Mary Chivers's
 mighty feats of athleticism could not have been performed with the
-twenty-inch waist that May Archer's azure sash so easily spanned.  And
+twenty-inch waist that May Archer's azure sash so easily spanned. And
 the difference seemed symbolic; the mother's life had been as closely
-girt as her figure.  Mary, who was no less conventional, and no more
-intelligent, yet led a larger life and held more tolerant views.  There
+girt as her figure. Mary, who was no less conventional, and no more
+intelligent, yet led a larger life and held more tolerant views. There
 was good in the new order too.
 
 The telephone clicked, and Archer, turning from the photographs,
-unhooked the transmitter at his elbow.  How far they were from the days
+unhooked the transmitter at his elbow. How far they were from the days
 when the legs of the brass-buttoned messenger boy had been New York's
 only means of quick communication!
 
@@ -11147,93 +11133,93 @@ only means of quick communication!
 
 Ah--it must be a long-distance from Dallas, who had been sent to
 Chicago by his firm to talk over the plan of the Lakeside palace they
-were to build for a young millionaire with ideas.  The firm always sent
+were to build for a young millionaire with ideas. The firm always sent
 Dallas on such errands.
 
-"Hallo, Dad--Yes: Dallas.  I say--how do you feel about sailing on
-Wednesday?  Mauretania: Yes, next Wednesday as ever is.  Our client
-wants me to look at some Italian gardens before we settle anything, and
-has asked me to nip over on the next boat.  I've got to be back on the
-first of June--" the voice broke into a joyful conscious laugh--"so we
-must look alive.  I say, Dad, I want your help: do come."
+"Hallo, Dad--Yes: Dallas. I say--how do you feel about sailing on
+Wednesday? Mauretania: Yes, next Wednesday as ever is. Our client wants
+me to look at some Italian gardens before we settle anything, and has
+asked me to nip over on the next boat. I've got to be back on the first
+of June--" the voice broke into a joyful conscious laugh--"so we must
+look alive. I say, Dad, I want your help: do come."
 
-Dallas seemed to be speaking in the room: the voice was as near by and
-natural as if he had been lounging in his favourite arm-chair by the
-fire.  The fact would not ordinarily have surprised Archer, for
+Dallas seemed to be speaking in the room: the voice was as near by
+and natural as if he had been lounging in his favourite arm-chair by
+the fire. The fact would not ordinarily have surprised Archer, for
 long-distance telephoning had become as much a matter of course as
-electric lighting and five-day Atlantic voyages.  But the laugh did
+electric lighting and five-day Atlantic voyages. But the laugh did
 startle him; it still seemed wonderful that across all those miles and
 miles of country--forest, river, mountain, prairie, roaring cities and
 busy indifferent millions--Dallas's laugh should be able to say: "Of
 course, whatever happens, I must get back on the first, because Fanny
 Beaufort and I are to be married on the fifth."
 
-The voice began again:  "Think it over?  No, sir: not a minute.  You've
-got to say yes now.  Why not, I'd like to know?  If you can allege a
-single reason--No; I knew it.  Then it's a go, eh?  Because I count on
+The voice began again: "Think it over? No, sir: not a minute. You've
+got to say yes now. Why not, I'd like to know? If you can allege a
+single reason--No; I knew it. Then it's a go, eh? Because I count on
 you to ring up the Cunard office first thing tomorrow; and you'd better
-book a return on a boat from Marseilles.  I say, Dad; it'll be our last
-time together, in this kind of way--.  Oh, good!  I knew you would."
+book a return on a boat from Marseilles. I say, Dad; it'll be our last
+time together, in this kind of way--. Oh, good! I knew you would."
 
 Chicago rang off, and Archer rose and began to pace up and down the
 room.
 
-It would be their last time together in this kind of way: the boy was
-right.  They would have lots of other "times" after Dallas's marriage,
-his father was sure; for the two were born comrades, and Fanny
-Beaufort, whatever one might think of her, did not seem likely to
-interfere with their intimacy.  On the contrary, from what he had seen
-of her, he thought she would be naturally included in it.  Still,
+It would be their last time together in this kind of way: the boy
+was right. They would have lots of other "times" after Dallas's
+marriage, his father was sure; for the two were born comrades, and
+Fanny Beaufort, whatever one might think of her, did not seem likely
+to interfere with their intimacy. On the contrary, from what he had
+seen of her, he thought she would be naturally included in it. Still,
 change was change, and differences were differences, and much as he
 felt himself drawn toward his future daughter-in-law, it was tempting
 to seize this last chance of being alone with his boy.
 
-There was no reason why he should not seize it, except the profound one
-that he had lost the habit of travel.  May had disliked to move except
-for valid reasons, such as taking the children to the sea or in the
-mountains: she could imagine no other motive for leaving the house in
-Thirty-ninth Street or their comfortable quarters at the Wellands' in
-Newport.  After Dallas had taken his degree she had thought it her duty
-to travel for six months; and the whole family had made the
-old-fashioned tour through England, Switzerland and Italy.  Their time
-being limited (no one knew why) they had omitted France.  Archer
-remembered Dallas's wrath at being asked to contemplate Mont Blanc
-instead of Rheims and Chartres.  But Mary and Bill wanted
+There was no reason why he should not seize it, except the profound
+one that he had lost the habit of travel. May had disliked to move
+except for valid reasons, such as taking the children to the sea
+or in the mountains: she could imagine no other motive for leaving
+the house in Thirty-ninth Street or their comfortable quarters at
+the Wellands' in Newport. After Dallas had taken his degree she had
+thought it her duty to travel for six months; and the whole family
+had made the old-fashioned tour through England, Switzerland and
+Italy. Their time being limited (no one knew why) they had omitted
+France. Archer remembered Dallas's wrath at being asked to contemplate
+Mont Blanc instead of Rheims and Chartres. But Mary and Bill wanted
 mountain-climbing, and had already yawned their way in Dallas's wake
 through the English cathedrals; and May, always fair to her children,
 had insisted on holding the balance evenly between their athletic and
-artistic proclivities.  She had indeed proposed that her husband should
+artistic proclivities. She had indeed proposed that her husband should
 go to Paris for a fortnight, and join them on the Italian lakes after
-they had "done" Switzerland; but Archer had declined.  "We'll stick
+they had "done" Switzerland; but Archer had declined. "We'll stick
 together," he said; and May's face had brightened at his setting such a
 good example to Dallas.
 
-Since her death, nearly two years before, there had been no reason for
-his continuing in the same routine.  His children had urged him to
+Since her death, nearly two years before, there had been no reason
+for his continuing in the same routine. His children had urged him to
 travel: Mary Chivers had felt sure it would do him good to go abroad
-and "see the galleries."  The very mysteriousness of such a cure made
-her the more confident of its efficacy.  But Archer had found himself
+and "see the galleries." The very mysteriousness of such a cure made
+her the more confident of its efficacy. But Archer had found himself
 held fast by habit, by memories, by a sudden startled shrinking from
 new things.
 
 Now, as he reviewed his past, he saw into what a deep rut he had sunk.
 The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for
-doing anything else.  At least that was the view that the men of his
-generation had taken.  The trenchant divisions between right and wrong,
+doing anything else. At least that was the view that the men of his
+generation had taken. The trenchant divisions between right and wrong,
 honest and dishonest, respectable and the reverse, had left so little
-scope for the unforeseen.  There are moments when a man's imagination,
+scope for the unforeseen. There are moments when a man's imagination,
 so easily subdued to what it lives in, suddenly rises above its daily
-level, and surveys the long windings of destiny.  Archer hung there and
+level, and surveys the long windings of destiny. Archer hung there and
 wondered....
 
 What was left of the little world he had grown up in, and whose
-standards had bent and bound him?  He remembered a sneering prophecy of
-poor Lawrence Lefferts's, uttered years ago in that very room:  "If
+standards had bent and bound him? He remembered a sneering prophecy
+of poor Lawrence Lefferts's, uttered years ago in that very room: "If
 things go on at this rate, our children will be marrying Beaufort's
 bastards."
 
 It was just what Archer's eldest son, the pride of his life, was doing;
-and nobody wondered or reproved.  Even the boy's Aunt Janey, who still
+and nobody wondered or reproved. Even the boy's Aunt Janey, who still
 looked so exactly as she used to in her elderly youth, had taken her
 mother's emeralds and seed-pearls out of their pink cotton-wool, and
 carried them with her own twitching hands to the future bride; and
@@ -11245,28 +11231,27 @@ Isabey miniature.
 Fanny Beaufort, who had appeared in New York at eighteen, after the
 death of her parents, had won its heart much as Madame Olenska had won
 it thirty years earlier; only instead of being distrustful and afraid
-of her, society took her joyfully for granted.  She was pretty, amusing
-and accomplished: what more did any one want?  Nobody was narrow-minded
+of her, society took her joyfully for granted. She was pretty, amusing
+and accomplished: what more did any one want? Nobody was narrow-minded
 enough to rake up against her the half-forgotten facts of her father's
-past and her own origin.  Only the older people remembered so obscure
+past and her own origin. Only the older people remembered so obscure
 an incident in the business life of New York as Beaufort's failure, or
-the fact that after his wife's death he had been quietly married to the
-notorious Fanny Ring, and had left the country with his new wife, and a
-little girl who inherited her beauty.  He was subsequently heard of in
-Constantinople, then in Russia; and a dozen years later American
+the fact that after his wife's death he had been quietly married to
+the notorious Fanny Ring, and had left the country with his new wife,
+and a little girl who inherited her beauty. He was subsequently heard
+of in Constantinople, then in Russia; and a dozen years later American
 travellers were handsomely entertained by him in Buenos Ayres, where he
-represented a large insurance agency.  He and his wife died there in
-the odour of prosperity; and one day their orphaned daughter had
-appeared in New York in charge of May Archer's sister-in-law, Mrs. Jack
-Welland, whose husband had been appointed the girl's guardian.  The
-fact threw her into almost cousinly relationship with Newland Archer's
-children, and nobody was surprised when Dallas's engagement was
-announced.
-
-Nothing could more dearly give the measure of the distance that the
-world had travelled.  People nowadays were too busy--busy with reforms
+represented a large insurance agency. He and his wife died there in the
+odour of prosperity; and one day their orphaned daughter had appeared
+in New York in charge of May Archer's sister-in-law, Mrs. Jack Welland,
+whose husband had been appointed the girl's guardian. The fact threw
+her into almost cousinly relationship with Newland Archer's children,
+and nobody was surprised when Dallas's engagement was announced.
+
+Nothing could more clearly give the measure of the distance that the
+world had travelled. People nowadays were too busy--busy with reforms
 and "movements," with fads and fetishes and frivolities--to bother much
-about their neighbours.  And of what account was anybody's past, in the
+about their neighbours. And of what account was anybody's past, in the
 huge kaleidoscope where all the social atoms spun around on the same
 plane?
 
@@ -11276,25 +11261,25 @@ eagerness of youth.
 
 It was long since it had thus plunged and reared under his widening
 waistcoat, leaving him, the next minute, with an empty breast and hot
-temples.  He wondered if it was thus that his son's conducted itself in
-the presence of Miss Fanny Beaufort--and decided that it was not.  "It
-functions as actively, no doubt, but the rhythm is different," he
+temples. He wondered if it was thus that his son's conducted itself
+in the presence of Miss Fanny Beaufort--and decided that it was not.
+"It functions as actively, no doubt, but the rhythm is different," he
 reflected, recalling the cool composure with which the young man had
 announced his engagement, and taken for granted that his family would
 approve.
 
 "The difference is that these young people take it for granted that
 they're going to get whatever they want, and that we almost always took
-it for granted that we shouldn't.  Only, I wonder--the thing one's so
+it for granted that we shouldn't. Only, I wonder--the thing one's so
 certain of in advance: can it ever make one's heart beat as wildly?"
 
 It was the day after their arrival in Paris, and the spring sunshine
 held Archer in his open window, above the wide silvery prospect of the
-Place Vendome.  One of the things he had stipulated--almost the only
+Place Vendôme. One of the things he had stipulated--almost the only
 one--when he had agreed to come abroad with Dallas, was that, in Paris,
 he shouldn't be made to go to one of the newfangled "palaces."
 
-"Oh, all right--of course," Dallas good-naturedly agreed.  "I'll take
+"Oh, all right--of course," Dallas good-naturedly agreed. "I'll take
 you to some jolly old-fashioned place--the Bristol say--" leaving his
 father speechless at hearing that the century-long home of kings and
 emperors was now spoken of as an old-fashioned inn, where one went for
@@ -11303,68 +11288,67 @@ its quaint inconveniences and lingering local colour.
 Archer had pictured often enough, in the first impatient years, the
 scene of his return to Paris; then the personal vision had faded, and
 he had simply tried to see the city as the setting of Madame Olenska's
-life.  Sitting alone at night in his library, after the household had
+life. Sitting alone at night in his library, after the household had
 gone to bed, he had evoked the radiant outbreak of spring down the
 avenues of horse-chestnuts, the flowers and statues in the public
 gardens, the whiff of lilacs from the flower-carts, the majestic roll
 of the river under the great bridges, and the life of art and study and
-pleasure that filled each mighty artery to bursting.  Now the spectacle
+pleasure that filled each mighty artery to bursting. Now the spectacle
 was before him in its glory, and as he looked out on it he felt shy,
 old-fashioned, inadequate: a mere grey speck of a man compared with the
 ruthless magnificent fellow he had dreamed of being....
 
-Dallas's hand came down cheerily on his shoulder.  "Hullo, father: this
-is something like, isn't it?"  They stood for a while looking out in
-silence, and then the young man continued:  "By the way, I've got a
-message for you: the Countess Olenska expects us both at half-past
+Dallas's hand came down cheerily on his shoulder. "Hullo, father:
+this is something like, isn't it?" They stood for a while looking out
+in silence, and then the young man continued: "By the way, I've got
+a message for you: the Countess Olenska expects us both at half-past
 five."
 
 He said it lightly, carelessly, as he might have imparted any casual
 item of information, such as the hour at which their train was to leave
-for Florence the next evening.  Archer looked at him, and thought he
-saw in his gay young eyes a gleam of his great-grandmother Mingott's
-malice.
+for Florence the next evening. Archer looked at him, and thought he saw
+in his gay young eyes a gleam of his great-grandmother Mingott's malice.
 
-"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Dallas pursued.  "Fanny made me swear to do
+"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Dallas pursued. "Fanny made me swear to do
 three things while I was in Paris: get her the score of the last
-Debussy songs, go to the Grand-Guignol and see Madame Olenska.  You
-know she was awfully good to Fanny when Mr. Beaufort sent her over from
-Buenos Ayres to the Assomption.  Fanny hadn't any friends in Paris, and
-Madame Olenska used to be kind to her and trot her about on holidays.
-I believe she was a great friend of the first Mrs. Beaufort's.  And
-she's our cousin, of course.  So I rang her up this morning, before I
-went out, and told her you and I were here for two days and wanted to
-see her."
-
-Archer continued to stare at him.  "You told her I was here?"
-
-"Of course--why not?"  Dallas's eye brows went up whimsically.  Then,
+Debussy songs, go to the Grand-Guignol and see Madame Olenska. You know
+she was awfully good to Fanny when Mr. Beaufort sent her over from
+Buenos Ayres to the Assomption. Fanny hadn't any friends in Paris, and
+Madame Olenska used to be kind to her and trot her about on holidays. I
+believe she was a great friend of the first Mrs. Beaufort's. And she's
+our cousin, of course. So I rang her up this morning, before I went
+out, and told her you and I were here for two days and wanted to see
+her."
+
+Archer continued to stare at him. "You told her I was here?"
+
+"Of course--why not?" Dallas's eye brows went up whimsically. Then,
 getting no answer, he slipped his arm through his father's with a
 confidential pressure.
 
 "I say, father: what was she like?"
 
-Archer felt his colour rise under his son's unabashed gaze.  "Come, own
-up: you and she were great pals, weren't you?  Wasn't she most awfully
+Archer felt his colour rise under his son's unabashed gaze. "Come, own
+up: you and she were great pals, weren't you? Wasn't she most awfully
 lovely?"
 
-"Lovely?  I don't know.  She was different."
+"Lovely? I don't know. She was different."
 
-"Ah--there you have it!  That's what it always comes to, doesn't it?
-When she comes, SHE'S DIFFERENT--and one doesn't know why.  It's
-exactly what I feel about Fanny."
+"Ah--there you have it! That's what it always comes to, doesn't it?
+When she comes, _she's different_--and one doesn't know why. It's exactly
+what I feel about Fanny."
 
-His father drew back a step, releasing his arm.  "About Fanny?  But, my
-dear fellow--I should hope so!  Only I don't see--"
+His father drew back a step, releasing his arm. "About Fanny? But, my
+dear fellow--I should hope so! Only I don't see--"
 
-"Dash it, Dad, don't be prehistoric!  Wasn't she--once--your Fanny?"
+"Dash it, Dad, don't be prehistoric! Wasn't she--once--your Fanny?"
 
-Dallas belonged body and soul to the new generation.  He was the
-first-born of Newland and May Archer, yet it had never been possible to
-inculcate in him even the rudiments of reserve.  "What's the use of
-making mysteries?  It only makes people want to nose 'em out," he
-always objected when enjoined to discretion.  But Archer, meeting his
-eyes, saw the filial light under their banter.
+Dallas belonged body and soul to the new generation. He was the
+first-born of Newland and May Archer, yet it had never been possible
+to inculcate in him even the rudiments of reserve. "What's the use of
+making mysteries? It only makes people want to nose 'em out," he always
+objected when enjoined to discretion. But Archer, meeting his eyes, saw
+the filial light under their banter.
 
 "My Fanny?"
 
@@ -11373,126 +11357,125 @@ continued his surprising son.
 
 "I didn't," echoed Archer with a kind of solemnity.
 
-"No: you date, you see, dear old boy.  But mother said--"
+"No: you date, you see, dear old boy. But mother said--"
 
 "Your mother?"
 
-"Yes: the day before she died.  It was when she sent for me alone--you
-remember?  She said she knew we were safe with you, and always would
-be, because once, when she asked you to, you'd given up the thing you
-most wanted."
+"Yes: the day before she died. It was when she sent for me alone--you
+remember? She said she knew we were safe with you, and always would be,
+because once, when she asked you to, you'd given up the thing you most
+wanted."
 
-Archer received this strange communication in silence.  His eyes
+Archer received this strange communication in silence. His eyes
 remained unseeingly fixed on the thronged sunlit square below the
-window.  At length he said in a low voice:  "She never asked me."
-
-"No.  I forgot.  You never did ask each other anything, did you?  And
-you never told each other anything.  You just sat and watched each
-other, and guessed at what was going on underneath.  A deaf-and-dumb
-asylum, in fact!  Well, I back your generation for knowing more about
-each other's private thoughts than we ever have time to find out about
-our own.--I say, Dad," Dallas broke off, "you're not angry with me?  If
-you are, let's make it up and go and lunch at Henri's.  I've got to
-rush out to Versailles afterward."
-
-Archer did not accompany his son to Versailles.  He preferred to spend
-the afternoon in solitary roamings through Paris.  He had to deal all
-at once with the packed regrets and stifled memories of an inarticulate
+window. At length he said in a low voice: "She never asked me."
+
+"No. I forgot. You never did ask each other anything, did you? And you
+never told each other anything. You just sat and watched each other,
+and guessed at what was going on underneath. A deaf-and-dumb asylum, in
+fact! Well, I back your generation for knowing more about each other's
+private thoughts than we ever have time to find out about our own.--I
+say, Dad," Dallas broke off, "you're not angry with me? If you are,
+let's make it up and go and lunch at Henri's. I've got to rush out to
+Versailles afterward."
+
+Archer did not accompany his son to Versailles. He preferred to spend
+the afternoon in solitary roamings through Paris. He had to deal all at
+once with the packed regrets and stifled memories of an inarticulate
 lifetime.
 
-After a little while he did not regret Dallas's indiscretion.  It
-seemed to take an iron band from his heart to know that, after all,
-some one had guessed and pitied....  And that it should have been his
-wife moved him indescribably.  Dallas, for all his affectionate
-insight, would not have understood that.  To the boy, no doubt, the
-episode was only a pathetic instance of vain frustration, of wasted
-forces.  But was it really no more?  For a long time Archer sat on a
-bench in the Champs Elysees and wondered, while the stream of life
-rolled by....
-
-A few streets away, a few hours away, Ellen Olenska waited.  She had
+After a little while he did not regret Dallas's indiscretion. It seemed
+to take an iron band from his heart to know that, after all, some one
+had guessed and pitied.... And that it should have been his wife moved
+him indescribably. Dallas, for all his affectionate insight, would
+not have understood that. To the boy, no doubt, the episode was only
+a pathetic instance of vain frustration, of wasted forces. But was it
+really no more? For a long time Archer sat on a bench in the Champs
+Élysées and wondered, while the stream of life rolled by....
+
+A few streets away, a few hours away, Ellen Olenska waited. She had
 never gone back to her husband, and when he had died, some years
-before, she had made no change in her way of living.  There was nothing
+before, she had made no change in her way of living. There was nothing
 now to keep her and Archer apart--and that afternoon he was to see her.
 
 He got up and walked across the Place de la Concorde and the Tuileries
-gardens to the Louvre.  She had once told him that she often went
-there, and he had a fancy to spend the intervening time in a place
-where he could think of her as perhaps having lately been.  For an hour
-or more he wandered from gallery to gallery through the dazzle of
-afternoon light, and one by one the pictures burst on him in their
-half-forgotten splendour, filling his soul with the long echoes of
-beauty.  After all, his life had been too starved....
-
-Suddenly, before an effulgent Titian, he found himself saying:  "But
-I'm only fifty-seven--" and then he turned away.  For such summer
-dreams it was too late; but surely not for a quiet harvest of
-friendship, of comradeship, in the blessed hush of her nearness.
+gardens to the Louvre. She had once told him that she often went there,
+and he had a fancy to spend the intervening time in a place where he
+could think of her as perhaps having lately been. For an hour or more
+he wandered from gallery to gallery through the dazzle of afternoon
+light, and one by one the pictures burst on him in their half-forgotten
+splendour, filling his soul with the long echoes of beauty. After all,
+his life had been too starved....
+
+Suddenly, before an effulgent Titian, he found himself saying: "But I'm
+only fifty-seven--" and then he turned away. For such summer dreams
+it was too late; but surely not for a quiet harvest of friendship, of
+comradeship, in the blessed hush of her nearness.
 
 He went back to the hotel, where he and Dallas were to meet; and
 together they walked again across the Place de la Concorde and over the
 bridge that leads to the Chamber of Deputies.
 
 Dallas, unconscious of what was going on in his father's mind, was
-talking excitedly and abundantly of Versailles.  He had had but one
-previous glimpse of it, during a holiday trip in which he had tried to
-pack all the sights he had been deprived of when he had had to go with
-the family to Switzerland; and tumultuous enthusiasm and cock-sure
+talking excitedly and abundantly of Versailles. He had had but one
+previous glimpse of it, during a holiday trip in which he had tried
+to pack all the sights he had been deprived of when he had had to go
+with the family to Switzerland; and tumultuous enthusiasm and cock-sure
 criticism tripped each other up on his lips.
 
 As Archer listened, his sense of inadequacy and inexpressiveness
-increased.  The boy was not insensitive, he knew; but he had the
+increased. The boy was not insensitive, he knew; but he had the
 facility and self-confidence that came of looking at fate not as a
-master but as an equal.  "That's it: they feel equal to things--they
+master but as an equal. "That's it: they feel equal to things--they
 know their way about," he mused, thinking of his son as the spokesman
 of the new generation which had swept away all the old landmarks, and
 with them the sign-posts and the danger-signal.
 
-Suddenly Dallas stopped short, grasping his father's arm.  "Oh, by
+Suddenly Dallas stopped short, grasping his father's arm. "Oh, by
 Jove," he exclaimed.
 
 They had come out into the great tree-planted space before the
-Invalides.  The dome of Mansart floated ethereally above the budding
+Invalides. The dome of Mansart floated ethereally above the budding
 trees and the long grey front of the building: drawing up into itself
 all the rays of afternoon light, it hung there like the visible symbol
 of the race's glory.
 
 Archer knew that Madame Olenska lived in a square near one of the
 avenues radiating from the Invalides; and he had pictured the quarter
-as quiet and almost obscure, forgetting the central splendour that lit
-it up.  Now, by some queer process of association, that golden light
-became for him the pervading illumination in which she lived.  For
-nearly thirty years, her life--of which he knew so strangely
+as quiet and almost obscure, forgetting the central splendour that
+lit it up. Now, by some queer process of association, that golden
+light became for him the pervading illumination in which she lived.
+For nearly thirty years, her life--of which he knew so strangely
 little--had been spent in this rich atmosphere that he already felt to
-be too dense and yet too stimulating for his lungs.  He thought of the
+be too dense and yet too stimulating for his lungs. He thought of the
 theatres she must have been to, the pictures she must have looked at,
 the sober and splendid old houses she must have frequented, the people
 she must have talked with, the incessant stir of ideas, curiosities,
 images and associations thrown out by an intensely social race in a
 setting of immemorial manners; and suddenly he remembered the young
-Frenchman who had once said to him:  "Ah, good conversation--there is
+Frenchman who had once said to him: "Ah, good conversation--there is
 nothing like it, is there?"
 
-Archer had not seen M. Riviere, or heard of him, for nearly thirty
+Archer had not seen M. Rivière, or heard of him, for nearly thirty
 years; and that fact gave the measure of his ignorance of Madame
-Olenska's existence.  More than half a lifetime divided them, and she
-had spent the long interval among people he did not know, in a society
-he but faintly guessed at, in conditions he would never wholly
-understand.  During that time he had been living with his youthful
+Olenska's existence. More than half a lifetime divided them, and
+she had spent the long interval among people he did not know, in a
+society he but faintly guessed at, in conditions he would never wholly
+understand. During that time he had been living with his youthful
 memory of her; but she had doubtless had other and more tangible
-companionship.  Perhaps she too had kept her memory of him as something
+companionship. Perhaps she too had kept her memory of him as something
 apart; but if she had, it must have been like a relic in a small dim
 chapel, where there was not time to pray every day....
 
 They had crossed the Place des Invalides, and were walking down one of
-the thoroughfares flanking the building.  It was a quiet quarter, after
+the thoroughfares flanking the building. It was a quiet quarter, after
 all, in spite of its splendour and its history; and the fact gave one
 an idea of the riches Paris had to draw on, since such scenes as this
 were left to the few and the indifferent.
 
-The day was fading into a soft sun-shot haze, pricked here and there by
-a yellow electric light, and passers were rare in the little square
-into which they had turned.  Dallas stopped again, and looked up.
+The day was fading into a soft sun-shot haze, pricked here and there
+by a yellow electric light, and passers were rare in the little square
+into which they had turned. Dallas stopped again, and looked up.
 
 "It must be here," he said, slipping his arm through his father's with
 a movement from which Archer's shyness did not shrink; and they stood
@@ -11500,13 +11483,13 @@ together looking up at the house.
 
 It was a modern building, without distinctive character, but
 many-windowed, and pleasantly balconied up its wide cream-coloured
-front.  On one of the upper balconies, which hung well above the
-rounded tops of the horse-chestnuts in the square, the awnings were
-still lowered, as though the sun had just left it.
+front. On one of the upper balconies, which hung well above the rounded
+tops of the horse-chestnuts in the square, the awnings were still
+lowered, as though the sun had just left it.
 
 "I wonder which floor--?" Dallas conjectured; and moving toward the
-porte-cochere he put his head into the porter's lodge, and came back to
-say:  "The fifth.  It must be the one with the awnings."
+_porte-cochère_ he put his head into the porter's lodge, and came back to
+say: "The fifth. It must be the one with the awnings."
 
 Archer remained motionless, gazing at the upper windows as if the end
 of their pilgrimage had been attained.
@@ -11519,9 +11502,9 @@ The father glanced away at an empty bench under the trees.
 
 "Why--aren't you well?" his son exclaimed.
 
-"Oh, perfectly.  But I should like you, please, to go up without me."
+"Oh, perfectly. But I should like you, please, to go up without me."
 
-Dallas paused before him, visibly bewildered.  "But, I say, Dad: do you
+Dallas paused before him, visibly bewildered. "But, I say, Dad: do you
 mean you won't come up at all?"
 
 "I don't know," said Archer slowly.
@@ -11537,18 +11520,18 @@ Dallas gave him a long look through the twilight.
 "My dear fellow, don't you always know what to say?" his father
 rejoined with a smile.
 
-"Very well.  I shall say you're old-fashioned, and prefer walking up
-the five flights because you don't like lifts."
+"Very well. I shall say you're old-fashioned, and prefer walking up the
+five flights because you don't like lifts."
 
-His father smiled again.  "Say I'm old-fashioned: that's enough."
+His father smiled again. "Say I'm old-fashioned: that's enough."
 
 Dallas looked at him again, and then, with an incredulous gesture,
 passed out of sight under the vaulted doorway.
 
 Archer sat down on the bench and continued to gaze at the awninged
-balcony.  He calculated the time it would take his son to be carried up
+balcony. He calculated the time it would take his son to be carried up
 in the lift to the fifth floor, to ring the bell, and be admitted to
-the hall, and then ushered into the drawing-room.  He pictured Dallas
+the hall, and then ushered into the drawing-room. He pictured Dallas
 entering that room with his quick assured step and his delightful
 smile, and wondered if the people were right who said that his boy
 "took after him."
@@ -11556,7 +11539,7 @@ smile, and wondered if the people were right who said that his boy
 Then he tried to see the persons already in the room--for probably at
 that sociable hour there would be more than one--and among them a dark
 lady, pale and dark, who would look up quickly, half rise, and hold out
-a long thin hand with three rings on it....  He thought she would be
+a long thin hand with three rings on it.... He thought she would be
 sitting in a sofa-corner near the fire, with azaleas banked behind her
 on a table.
 
@@ -11566,7 +11549,7 @@ its edge kept him rooted to his seat as the minutes succeeded each
 other.
 
 He sat for a long time on the bench in the thickening dusk, his eyes
-never turning from the balcony.  At length a light shone through the
+never turning from the balcony. At length a light shone through the
 windows, and a moment later a man-servant came out on the balcony, drew
 up the awnings, and closed the shutters.
 
@@ -11579,383 +11562,15 @@ up slowly and walked back alone to his hotel.
 A Note on the Text
 
 The Age of Innocence first appeared in four large installments in The
-Pictorial Review, from July to October 1920.  It was published that
-same year in book form by D. Appleton and Company in New York and in
-London.  Wharton made extensive stylistic, punctuation, and spelling
-changes and revisions between the serial and book publication, and more
-than thirty subsequent changes were made after the second impression of
-the book edition had been run off.  This authoritative text is
-reprinted from the Library of America edition of Novels by Edith
-Wharton, and is based on the sixth impression of the first edition,
-which incorporates the last set of extensive revisions that are
-obviously authorial.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton
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+Pictorial Review, from July to October 1920. It was published that same
+year in book form by D. Appleton and Company in New York and in London.
+Wharton made extensive stylistic, punctuation, and spelling changes and
+revisions between the serial and book publication, and more than thirty
+subsequent changes were made after the second impression of the book
+edition had been run off. This authoritative text is reprinted from the
+Library of America edition of Novels by Edith Wharton, and is based on
+the sixth impression of the first edition, which incorporates the last
+set of extensive revisions that are obviously authorial.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 541 ***
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Age of Innocence
-
-Author: Edith Wharton
-
-Posting Date: August 12, 2008 [EBook #541]
-Release Date: May, 1996
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGE OF INNOCENCE ***
-
-
-
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-Produced by Judith Boss and Charles Keller.  HTML version by Al Haines.
-
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-</pre>
-
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 541 ***</div>
 
 <BR><BR>
 
-<H1 ALIGN="center">
+<H1>
 The Age of Innocence
 </H1>
 
 <BR>
 
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<div class="h3">
 by
-</H3>
+</div>
 
 
-<H2 ALIGN="center">
+<div class="h2">
 Edith Wharton
-</H2>
+</div>
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<H2 ALIGN="center">
+<H2>
 CONTENTS
 </H2>
 
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<H3>
 Book I
 </H3>
 
 <P>
-<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="100%">
+<TABLE style="width: 100%;">
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap01">CHAPTER I</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap02">CHAPTER II</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap03">CHAPTER III</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap04">CHAPTER IV</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap05">CHAPTER V</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap06">CHAPTER VI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap07">CHAPTER VII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap09">CHAPTER IX</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap10">CHAPTER X</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap11">CHAPTER XI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap12">CHAPTER XII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap15">CHAPTER XV</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 &nbsp;
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 &nbsp;
 </TD>
 </TR>
@@ -175,89 +165,89 @@ Book I
 
 <BR><BR>
 
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<H3>
 Book II
 </H3>
 
 
 <P>
-<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="100%">
+<TABLE style="width: 100%;">
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap20">CHAPTER XX</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 20%;">
 <A HREF="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII</A>
 </TD>
 </TR>
 
 <TR>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
 <A HREF="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV</A>
 </TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"><A HREF="#note">A Note on the Text</A></TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">&nbsp;</TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">&nbsp;</TD>
-<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">&nbsp;</TD>
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><A HREF="#note">A Note on the Text</A></TD>
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">&nbsp;</TD>
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">&nbsp;</TD>
+<TD style="text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">&nbsp;</TD>
 </TR>
 
 </TABLE>
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap01"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap01"></A>
+<H3>
 Book I
 </H3>
 
 <BR>
 
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<H3>
 I.
 </H3>
 
@@ -321,12 +311,12 @@ moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality
 that&mdash;well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima
 donna's stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more
 significant moment than just as she was singing:  "He loves me&mdash;he
-loves me not&mdash;HE LOVES ME!&mdash;" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals
+loves me not&mdash;<i>he loves me</i>!&mdash;" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals
 with notes as clear as dew.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an
+She sang, of course, "<i>M'ama</i>!" and not "he loves me," since an
 unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the
 German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be
 translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of
@@ -338,7 +328,7 @@ flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"M'ama ... non m'ama ..." the prima donna sang, and "M'ama!", with a
+"<i>M'ama ... non m'ama ...</i>" the prima donna sang, and "<i>M'ama</i>!", with a
 final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to
 her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of
 the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight purple
@@ -356,7 +346,7 @@ by some of the younger members of the family.  On this occasion, the
 front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell
 Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and slightly withdrawn behind
 these brocaded matrons sat a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically
-fixed on the stagelovers.  As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled out
+fixed on the stage-lovers.  As Madame Nilsson's "<i>M'ama</i>!" thrilled out
 above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during the
 Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow
 to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her
@@ -535,8 +525,8 @@ it on."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap02"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap02"></A>
+<H3>
 II.
 </H3>
 
@@ -645,7 +635,7 @@ eat sauces?"
 Newland Archer, as he mused on these things, had once more turned his
 eyes toward the Mingott box.  He saw that Mrs. Welland and her
 sister-in-law were facing their semicircle of critics with the
-Mingottian APLOMB which old Catherine had inculcated in all her tribe,
+Mingottian <i>aplomb</i> which old Catherine had inculcated in all her tribe,
 and that only May Welland betrayed, by a heightened colour (perhaps due
 to the knowledge that he was watching her) a sense of the gravity of
 the situation.  As for the cause of the commotion, she sat gracefully
@@ -669,7 +659,7 @@ of the dictates of Taste.
 <P>
 "After all," he heard one of the younger men begin behind him
 (everybody talked through the Mephistopheles-and-Martha scenes), "after
-all, just WHAT happened?"
+all, just <i>what</i> happened?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -718,7 +708,7 @@ home."
 <P>
 This was greeted with an irreverent laugh, and the youth blushed
 deeply, and tried to look as if he had meant to insinuate what knowing
-people called a "double entendre."
+people called a "<i>double entendre</i>."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -782,7 +772,7 @@ what he was doing, Archer seated himself at the Countess Olenska's side.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"We DID use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her grave
+"We <i>did</i> use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her grave
 eyes to his.  "You were a horrid boy, and kissed me once behind a door;
 but it was your cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me, that I
 was in love with."  Her glance swept the horse-shoe curve of boxes.
@@ -808,8 +798,8 @@ disrespectful way of describing New York society.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap03"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap03"></A>
+<H3>
 III.
 </H3>
 
@@ -847,7 +837,7 @@ of America's most honoured families; she had been the lovely Regina
 Dallas (of the South Carolina branch), a penniless beauty introduced to
 New York society by her cousin, the imprudent Medora Manson, who was
 always doing the wrong thing from the right motive.  When one was
-related to the Mansons and the Rushworths one had a "droit de cite" (as
+related to the Mansons and the Rushworths one had a "<i>droit de cité</i>" (as
 Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who had frequented the Tuileries, called it) in
 New York society; but did one not forfeit it in marrying Julius
 Beaufort?
@@ -917,7 +907,7 @@ ladies take their cloaks off in the hall, instead of shuffling up to
 the hostess's bedroom and recurling their hair with the aid of the
 gas-burner; Beaufort was understood to have said that he supposed all
 his wife's friends had maids who saw to it that they were properly
-coiffees when they left home.
+<i>coiffées</i> when they left home.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -966,7 +956,7 @@ the ball-room door.  Couples were already gliding over the floor
 beyond: the light of the wax candles fell on revolving tulle skirts, on
 girlish heads wreathed with modest blossoms, on the dashing aigrettes
 and ornaments of the young married women's coiffures, and on the
-glitter of highly glazed shirt-fronts and fresh glace gloves.
+glitter of highly glazed shirt-fronts and fresh <i>glacé</i> gloves.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -1126,8 +1116,8 @@ Olenska's reputation."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap04"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap04"></A>
+<H3>
 IV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -1161,7 +1151,7 @@ advance of residences as stately as her own&mdash;perhaps (for she was an
 impartial woman) even statelier; and that the cobble-stones over which
 the old clattering omnibuses bumped would be replaced by smooth
 asphalt, such as people reported having seen in Paris.  Meanwhile, as
-every one she cared to see came to HER (and she could fill her rooms as
+every one she cared to see came to <i>her</i> (and she could fill her rooms as
 easily as the Beauforts, and without adding a single item to the menu
 of her suppers), she did not suffer from her geographic isolation.
 </P>
@@ -1190,7 +1180,7 @@ independence she had made her reception rooms upstairs and established
 herself (in flagrant violation of all the New York proprieties) on the
 ground floor of her house; so that, as you sat in her sitting-room
 window with her, you caught (through a door that was always open, and a
-looped-back yellow damask portiere) the unexpected vista of a bedroom
+looped-back yellow damask portière) the unexpected vista of a bedroom
 with a huge low bed upholstered like a sofa, and a toilet-table with
 frivolous lace flounces and a gilt-framed mirror.
 </P>
@@ -1346,8 +1336,8 @@ and about to ally himself with one of his own kind.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap05"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap05"></A>
+<H3>
 V.
 </H3>
 
@@ -1407,7 +1397,7 @@ Mrs. Archer, who had long been a widow, lived with her son and daughter
 in West Twenty-eighth Street.  An upper floor was dedicated to Newland,
 and the two women squeezed themselves into narrower quarters below.  In
 an unclouded harmony of tastes and interests they cultivated ferns in
-Wardian cases, made macrame lace and wool embroidery on linen,
+Wardian cases, made <i>macramé</i> lace and wool embroidery on linen,
 collected American revolutionary glazed ware, subscribed to "Good
 Words," and read Ouida's novels for the sake of the Italian atmosphere.
 (They preferred those about peasant life, because of the descriptions
@@ -1472,11 +1462,11 @@ They began, obliquely, by talking about Mrs. Lemuel Struthers.
 
 <P>
 "It's a pity the Beauforts asked her," Mrs. Archer said gently.  "But
-then Regina always does what he tells her; and BEAUFORT&mdash;"
+then Regina always does what he tells her; and <i>Beaufort</i>&mdash;"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Certain nuances escape Beaufort," said Mr. Jackson, cautiously
+"Certain <i>nuances</i> escape Beaufort," said Mr. Jackson, cautiously
 inspecting the broiled shad, and wondering for the thousandth time why
 Mrs. Archer's cook always burnt the roe to a cinder. (Newland, who had
 long shared his wonder, could always detect it in the older man's
@@ -1495,14 +1485,14 @@ the unmarried.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"But this Mrs. Struthers," Mrs. Archer continued; "what did you say SHE
+"But this Mrs. Struthers," Mrs. Archer continued; "what did you say <i>she</i>
 was, Sillerton?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
 "Out of a mine: or rather out of the saloon at the head of the pit.
 Then with Living Wax-Works, touring New England.  After the police
-broke THAT up, they say she lived&mdash;"  Mr. Jackson in his turn glanced
+broke <i>that</i> up, they say she lived&mdash;"  Mr. Jackson in his turn glanced
 at Janey, whose eyes began to bulge from under her prominent lids.
 There were still hiatuses for her in Mrs. Struthers's past.
 </P>
@@ -1523,7 +1513,7 @@ Mrs. Archer indifferently.  The ladies were not really interested in
 Mrs. Struthers just then; the subject of Ellen Olenska was too fresh
 and too absorbing to them.  Indeed, Mrs. Struthers's name had been
 introduced by Mrs. Archer only that she might presently be able to say:
-"And Newland's new cousin&mdash;Countess Olenska?  Was SHE at the ball too?"
+"And Newland's new cousin&mdash;Countess Olenska?  Was <i>she</i> at the ball too?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -1551,7 +1541,7 @@ that she had been perturbed by the premature announcement of his
 engagement, or rather by its cause; and it was for that reason&mdash;because
 on the whole he was a tender and indulgent master&mdash;that he had stayed
 at home that evening.  "It's not that I don't approve of the Mingotts'
-esprit de corps; but why Newland's engagement should be mixed up with
+<i>esprit de corps</i>; but why Newland's engagement should be mixed up with
 that Olenska woman's comings and goings I don't see," Mrs. Archer
 grumbled to Janey, the only witness of her slight lapses from perfect
 sweetness.
@@ -1609,7 +1599,7 @@ all these foreign marriages!"
 
 <P>
 Mrs. Archer ignored the allusion to the ancestral cuisine and Mr.
-Jackson continued with deliberation: "No, she was NOT at the ball."
+Jackson continued with deliberation: "No, she was <i>not</i> at the ball."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -1792,8 +1782,8 @@ back."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap06"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap06"></A>
+<H3>
 VI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -1836,7 +1826,7 @@ pledged to defend, on the part of his betrothed's cousin, conduct that,
 on his own wife's part, would justify him in calling down on her all
 the thunders of Church and State.  Of course the dilemma was purely
 hypothetical; since he wasn't a blackguard Polish nobleman, it was
-absurd to speculate what his wife's rights would be if he WERE.  But
+absurd to speculate what his wife's rights would be if he <i>were</i>.  But
 Newland Archer was too imaginative not to feel that, in his case and
 May's, the tie might gall for reasons far less gross and palpable.
 What could he and she really know of each other, since it was his duty,
@@ -1897,7 +1887,7 @@ ideas that she was beginning to develop under his guidance.  (She had
 advanced far enough to join him in ridiculing the Idyls of the King,
 but not to feel the beauty of Ulysses and the Lotus Eaters.) She was
 straightforward, loyal and brave; she had a sense of humour (chiefly
-proved by her laughing at HIS jokes); and he suspected, in the depths
+proved by her laughing at <i>his</i> jokes); and he suspected, in the depths
 of her innocently-gazing soul, a glow of feeling that it would be a joy
 to waken.  But when he had gone the brief round of her he returned
 discouraged by the thought that all this frankness and innocence were
@@ -2097,8 +2087,8 @@ Society left."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap07"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap07"></A>
+<H3>
 VII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -2229,7 +2219,7 @@ complete an image of its owners.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"But I hope you HAD finished your reading, Henry?" his wife interposed.
+"But I hope you <i>had</i> finished your reading, Henry?" his wife interposed.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -2248,8 +2238,8 @@ inflicted on Mrs. Lovell Mingott.
 
 <P>
 "Of course," she ended, "Augusta Welland and Mary Mingott both felt
-that, especially in view of Newland's engagement, you and Henry OUGHT
-TO KNOW."
+that, especially in view of Newland's engagement, you and Henry <i>ought
+to know</i>."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -2289,11 +2279,11 @@ lightning-rod; I've seen him try the same thing often before."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"The LEFFERTSES!&mdash;" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
+"The <i>Leffertses</i>!&mdash;" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"The LEFFERTSES!&mdash;" echoed Mrs. Archer.  "What would uncle Egmont have
+"The <i>Leffertses</i>!&mdash;" echoed Mrs. Archer.  "What would uncle Egmont have
 said of Lawrence Lefferts's pronouncing on anybody's social position?
 It shows what Society has come to."
 </P>
@@ -2418,8 +2408,8 @@ Patti ought to attempt the Sonnambula."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap08"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap08"></A>
+<H3>
 VIII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -2516,7 +2506,7 @@ gone.  The red cheeks had paled; she was thin, worn, a little
 older-looking than her age, which must have been nearly thirty.  But
 there was about her the mysterious authority of beauty, a sureness in
 the carriage of the head, the movement of the eyes, which, without
-being in the least theatrical, struck his as highly trained and full of
+being in the least theatrical, struck him as highly trained and full of
 a conscious power.  At the same time she was simpler in manner than
 most of the ladies present, and many people (as he heard afterward from
 Janey) were disappointed that her appearance was not more
@@ -2524,7 +2514,7 @@ Janey) were disappointed that her appearance was not more
 perhaps, Archer reflected, because her early vivacity had disappeared;
 because she was so quiet&mdash;quiet in her movements, her voice, and the
 tones of her low-pitched voice.  New York had expected something a good
-deal more reasonant in a young woman with such a history.
+deal more resonant in a young woman with such a history.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -2678,7 +2668,7 @@ trembled.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"I'm so sorry," he said impulsively; "but you ARE among friends here,
+"I'm so sorry," he said impulsively; "but you <i>are</i> among friends here,
 you know."
 </P>
 
@@ -2762,8 +2752,8 @@ lovelier.  The Duke thinks her the handsomest girl in the room."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap09"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap09"></A>
+<H3>
 IX.
 </H3>
 
@@ -3040,7 +3030,7 @@ She looked amused.  "Why&mdash;have you waited long?  Mr. Beaufort took me
 to see a number of houses&mdash;since it seems I'm not to be allowed to stay
 in this one."  She appeared to dismiss both Beaufort and himself from
 her mind, and went on:  "I've never been in a city where there seems to
-be such a feeling against living in des quartiers excentriques.  What
+be such a feeling against living in <i>des quartiers excentriques</i>.  What
 does it matter where one lives?  I'm told this street is respectable."
 </P>
 
@@ -3200,7 +3190,7 @@ She lifted her thin black eyebrows.  "Is New York such a labyrinth?  I
 thought it so straight up and down&mdash;like Fifth Avenue.  And with all
 the cross streets numbered!"  She seemed to guess his faint disapproval
 of this, and added, with the rare smile that enchanted her whole face:
-"If you knew how I like it for just THAT&mdash;the straight-up-and-downness,
+"If you knew how I like it for just <i>that</i>&mdash;the straight-up-and-downness,
 and the big honest labels on everything!"
 </P>
 
@@ -3263,7 +3253,7 @@ Suddenly Nastasia put her head in to say something in her rich Italian.
 <P>
 Madame Olenska, again with a hand at her hair, uttered an exclamation
 of assent&mdash;a flashing "Gia&mdash;gia"&mdash;and the Duke of St. Austrey entered,
-piloting a tremendous blackwigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing
+piloting a tremendous black-wigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing
 furs.
 </P>
 
@@ -3348,8 +3338,8 @@ The florist assured him that they would.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap10"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap10"></A>
+<H3>
 X.
 </H3>
 
@@ -3492,7 +3482,7 @@ her eyes rested on him with a bright unclouded admiration.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"You DO love me, Newland!  I'm so happy."
+"You <i>do</i> love me, Newland!  I'm so happy."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -3608,7 +3598,7 @@ With a groan he plunged back into his book.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"NEWLAND!  Do listen.  Your friend Madame Olenska was at Mrs. Lemuel
+"<i>Newland!</i>  Do listen.  Your friend Madame Olenska was at Mrs. Lemuel
 Struthers's party last night: she went there with the Duke and Mr.
 Beaufort."
 </P>
@@ -3670,7 +3660,7 @@ into tears, and felt ashamed of the useless pain he was inflicting.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"No; but you DID ask the Wellands to announce your engagement sooner so
+"No; but you <i>did</i> ask the Wellands to announce your engagement sooner so
 that we might all back her up; and if it hadn't been for that cousin
 Louisa would never have invited her to the dinner for the Duke."
 </P>
@@ -3789,7 +3779,7 @@ the sensitive tone that was her nearest approach to anger.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-The sad butler drew back the drawing-room portieres and announced:
+The sad butler drew back the drawing-room portières and announced:
 "Mr. Henry van der Luyden."
 </P>
 
@@ -3870,7 +3860,7 @@ troubled.  So I thought the shortest way was to go straight to Countess
 Olenska and explain&mdash;by the merest hint, you know&mdash;how we feel in New
 York about certain things.  I felt I might, without indelicacy, because
 the evening she dined with us she rather suggested ... rather let me
-see that she would be grateful for guidance.  And she WAS."
+see that she would be grateful for guidance.  And she <i>was</i>."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -3900,7 +3890,7 @@ to take the Duke to the Opera."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-After the portieres had solemnly closed behind their visitor a silence
+After the portières had solemnly closed behind their visitor a silence
 fell upon the Archer family.
 </P>
 
@@ -3924,8 +3914,8 @@ away her frown.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap11"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap11"></A>
+<H3>
 XI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -3938,7 +3928,7 @@ attorneys at law, was summoned by the head of the firm.
 <P>
 Old Mr. Letterblair, the accredited legal adviser of three generations
 of New York gentility, throned behind his mahogany desk in evident
-perplexity.  As he stroked his closeclipped white whiskers and ran his
+perplexity.  As he stroked his close-clipped white whiskers and ran his
 hand through the rumpled grey locks above his jutting brows, his
 disrespectful junior partner thought how much he looked like the Family
 Physician annoyed with a patient whose symptoms refuse to be classified.
@@ -4219,7 +4209,7 @@ why, sir?  If there ever was a case&mdash;"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Well&mdash;what's the use?  SHE'S here&mdash;he's there; the Atlantic's between
+"Well&mdash;what's the use?  <i>she's</i> here&mdash;he's there; the Atlantic's between
 them.  She'll never get back a dollar more of her money than what he's
 voluntarily returned to her: their damned heathen marriage settlements
 take precious good care of that.  As things go over there, Olenski's
@@ -4326,8 +4316,8 @@ pleaded an engagement and took leave.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap12"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap12"></A>
+<H3>
 XII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -4416,7 +4406,7 @@ universe.  He knew that there were societies where painters and poets
 and novelists and men of science, and even great actors, were as sought
 after as Dukes; he had often pictured to himself what it would have
 been to live in the intimacy of drawing-rooms dominated by the talk of
-Merimee (whose "Lettres a une Inconnue" was one of his inseparables),
+Mérimée (whose "Lettres à une Inconnue" was one of his inseparables),
 of Thackeray, Browning or William Morris.  But such things were
 inconceivable in New York, and unsettling to think of.  Archer knew
 most of the "fellows who wrote," the musicians and the painters: he met
@@ -4563,7 +4553,7 @@ reputation in order to break with it.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"I do think," she went on, addressing both men, "that the imprevu adds
+"I do think," she went on, addressing both men, "that the <i>imprévu</i> adds
 to one's enjoyment.  It's perhaps a mistake to see the same people
 every day."
 </P>
@@ -4865,7 +4855,7 @@ He winced a little.  "It's not unnatural&mdash;"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"OUR family," she corrected herself; and Archer coloured.  "For you'll
+"<i>Our</i> family," she corrected herself; and Archer coloured.  "For you'll
 be my cousin soon," she continued gently.
 </P>
 
@@ -4984,8 +4974,8 @@ night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap13"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap13"></A>
+<H3>
 XIII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -5078,7 +5068,7 @@ frightened, she was desperate&mdash;what more natural than that she should
 be grateful to her rescuer?  The pity was that her gratitude put her,
 in the law's eyes and the world's, on a par with her abominable
 husband.  Archer had made her understand this, as he was bound to do;
-he had also made her understand that simplehearted kindly New York, on
+he had also made her understand that simple-hearted kindly New York, on
 whose larger charity she had apparently counted, was precisely the
 place where she could least hope for indulgence.
 </P>
@@ -5226,7 +5216,7 @@ at such a moment.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"And I wanted to tell you that I DO feel you were right; and that I'm
+"And I wanted to tell you that I <i>do</i> feel you were right; and that I'm
 grateful to you," she ended, lifting her opera-glass quickly to her
 eyes as the door of the box opened and Beaufort's resonant voice broke
 in on them.
@@ -5268,8 +5258,8 @@ Olenska was lonely and she was unhappy.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap14"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap14"></A>
+<H3>
 XIV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -5423,7 +5413,7 @@ usually remained within the limits of a pensive dilettantism.
 "The fact is, life isn't much a fit for either of us," Winsett had once
 said.  "I'm down and out; nothing to be done about it.  I've got only
 one ware to produce, and there's no market for it here, and won't be in
-my time.  But you're free and you're well-off.  Why don't you get into
+my time.  But you're free and you're well-off.  Why don't <i>you</i> get into
 touch?  There's only one way to do it: to go into politics."
 </P>
 
@@ -5540,7 +5530,7 @@ thought was of some dark menace from abroad; then he reflected that he
 did not know her epistolary style, and that it might run to picturesque
 exaggeration.  Women always exaggerated; and moreover she was not
 wholly at her ease in English, which she often spoke as if she were
-translating from the French.  "Je me suis evadee&mdash;" put in that way,
+translating from the French.  "Je me suis évadée&mdash;" put in that way,
 the opening sentence immediately suggested that she might merely have
 wanted to escape from a boring round of engagements; which was very
 likely true, for he judged her to be capricious, and easily wearied of
@@ -5583,8 +5573,8 @@ there was always a room to spare in her elastic house.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap15"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap15"></A>
+<H3>
 XV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -5965,7 +5955,7 @@ his own set.  This was the man from whom Madame Olenska was avowedly
 flying: the question was whether she had fled because his importunities
 displeased her, or because she did not wholly trust herself to resist
 them; unless, indeed, all her talk of flight had been a blind, and her
-departure no more than a manoeuvre.
+departure no more than a manœuvre.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -6073,8 +6063,8 @@ leaving that very afternoon for St. Augustine.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap16"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap16"></A>
+<H3>
 XVI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -6372,9 +6362,9 @@ understand how I want you for my wife?"
 
 <P>
 For a moment she remained motionless; then she raised on him eyes of
-such despairing dearness that he half-released her waist from his hold.
+such despairing clearness that he half-released her waist from his hold.
 But suddenly her look changed and deepened inscrutably.  "I'm not sure
-if I DO understand," she said.  "Is it&mdash;is it because you're not
+if I <i>do</i> understand," she said.  "Is it&mdash;is it because you're not
 certain of continuing to care for me?"
 </P>
 
@@ -6454,7 +6444,7 @@ inexpressible relief.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"My dear child&mdash;was THAT it?  If you only knew the truth!"
+"My dear child&mdash;was <i>that</i> it?  If you only knew the truth!"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -6535,8 +6525,8 @@ stood up and walked silently home.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap17"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap17"></A>
+<H3>
 XVII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -6634,7 +6624,7 @@ Mrs. Manson Mingott screwed up her little mouth into a grimace of mimic
 prudery and twinkled at him through malicious lids.  "'Ask Mamma,' I
 suppose&mdash;the usual story.  Ah, these Mingotts&mdash;all alike!  Born in a
 rut, and you can't root 'em out of it.  When I built this house you'd
-have thought I was moving to California!  Nobody ever HAD built above
+have thought I was moving to California!  Nobody ever <i>had</i> built above
 Fortieth Street&mdash;no, says I, nor above the Battery either, before
 Christopher Columbus discovered America.  No, no; not one of them wants
 to be different; they're as scared of it as the small-pox.  Ah, my dear
@@ -6663,7 +6653,7 @@ Old Catherine beamed on him approvingly.  "No; I can see that.  You've
 got a quick eye.  When you were a little boy I've no doubt you liked to
 be helped first." She threw back her head with a laugh that made her
 chins ripple like little waves.  "Ah, here's my Ellen now!" she
-exclaimed, as the portieres parted behind her.
+exclaimed, as the portières parted behind her.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -6897,8 +6887,8 @@ street.  This house has been an oasis."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Ah, but she won't abandon YOU.  Poetry and art are the breath of life
-to her.  It IS poetry you write, Mr. Winsett?"
+"Ah, but she won't abandon <i>you</i>.  Poetry and art are the breath of life
+to her.  It <i>is</i> poetry you write, Mr. Winsett?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -6907,7 +6897,7 @@ in a general nod and slipping out of the room.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"A caustic spirit&mdash;un peu sauvage.  But so witty; Dr. Carver, you DO
+"A caustic spirit&mdash;<i>un peu sauvage</i>.  But so witty; Dr. Carver, you <i>do</i>
 think him witty?"
 </P>
 
@@ -6954,15 +6944,9 @@ happy.  But I fear my Ellen counts on Mr. Archer herself."
 handed it to Archer, who read on it, in Gothic characters:
 </P>
 
-<PRE>
-  +&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-+
-  |      Agathon Carver       |
-  |    The Valley of Love     |
-  |   Kittasquattamy, N. Y.   |
-  +&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-+
-</PRE>
-
-<BR>
+<div class="bbox">Agathon Carver<br>
+  The Valley of Love<br>
+  Kittasquattamy, N. Y.</div>
 
 <P>
 Dr. Carver bowed himself out, and Mrs. Manson, with a sigh that might
@@ -7093,15 +7077,15 @@ listened.
 
 <P>
 "Here she comes," she said in a rapid whisper; and then, pointing to
-the bouquet on the sofa:  "Am I to understand that you prefer THAT, Mr.
+the bouquet on the sofa:  "Am I to understand that you prefer <i>that</i>, Mr.
 Archer?  After all, marriage is marriage ... and my niece is still a
 wife..."
 </P>
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap18"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap18"></A>
+<H3>
 XVIII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -7337,7 +7321,7 @@ too intelligent to be the slave of such absurd superstitions."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"She IS too intelligent&mdash;she's not their slave."
+"She <i>is</i> too intelligent&mdash;she's not their slave."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -7384,7 +7368,7 @@ horses.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"That IS noble," she said, with a slight break in her voice.
+"That <i>is</i> noble," she said, with a slight break in her voice.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -7479,11 +7463,11 @@ of light tore its blinding way.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"I'VE made it impossible&mdash;?"
+"<i>I've</i> made it impossible&mdash;?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"You, you, YOU!" she cried, her lip trembling like a child's on the
+"You, you, <i>you</i>!" she cried, her lip trembling like a child's on the
 verge of tears.  "Isn't it you who made me give up divorcing&mdash;give it
 up because you showed me how selfish and wicked it was, how one must
 sacrifice one's self to preserve the dignity of marriage ... and to
@@ -7669,7 +7653,7 @@ before&mdash;and it's better than anything I've known."
 She spoke in a low even voice, without tears or visible agitation; and
 each word, as it dropped from her, fell into his breast like burning
 lead.  He sat bowed over, his head between his hands, staring at the
-hearthrug, and at the tip of the satin shoe that showed under her
+hearth-rug, and at the tip of the satin shoe that showed under her
 dress.  Suddenly he knelt down and kissed the shoe.
 </P>
 
@@ -7721,7 +7705,7 @@ lonely I've no right to keep you from your friends."
 
 <P>
 She smiled a little under her wet lashes.  "I shan't be lonely now.  I
-WAS lonely; I WAS afraid.  But the emptiness and the darkness are gone;
+<i>was</i> lonely; I <i>was</i> afraid.  But the emptiness and the darkness are gone;
 when I turn back into myself now I'm like a child going at night into a
 room where there's always a light."
 </P>
@@ -7871,14 +7855,14 @@ keep on laughing?  Do hush, or you'll wake Mamma."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap19"></A>
-<H2 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap19"></A>
+<H2>
 Book II
 </H2>
 
 <BR><BR>
 
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<H3>
 XIX.
 </H3>
 
@@ -7939,7 +7923,7 @@ of his responsibility.
 Archer made the gesture which he had seen so many bridegrooms make:
 with his ungloved right hand he felt in the pocket of his dark grey
 waistcoat, and assured himself that the little gold circlet (engraved
-inside: Newland to May, April &mdash;-, 187-) was in its place; then,
+inside: <i>Newland to May, April &mdash;, 187—</i>) was in its place; then,
 resuming his former attitude, his tall hat and pearl-grey gloves with
 black stitchings grasped in his left hand, he stood looking at the door
 of the church.
@@ -8024,7 +8008,7 @@ somewhere, and real things happening to them ..."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"THERE THEY COME!" breathed the best man excitedly; but the bridegroom
+"<i>There they come!</i>" breathed the best man excitedly; but the bridegroom
 knew better.
 </P>
 
@@ -8066,8 +8050,8 @@ curbstone.  The idea of doing away with this awning, and revealing the
 bride to the mob of dressmakers and newspaper reporters who stood
 outside fighting to get near the joints of the canvas, exceeded even
 old Catherine's courage, though for a moment she had weighed the
-possibility.  "Why, they might take a photograph of my child AND PUT IT
-IN THE PAPERS!" Mrs. Welland exclaimed when her mother's last plan was
+possibility.  "Why, they might take a photograph of my child <i>and put it
+in the papers</i>!" Mrs. Welland exclaimed when her mother's last plan was
 hinted to her; and from this unthinkable indecency the clan recoiled
 with a collective shudder.  The ancestress had had to give in; but her
 concession was bought only by the promise that the wedding-breakfast
@@ -8106,12 +8090,12 @@ the wedding.  For a moment Archer stood with his eyes fixed on Medora's
 fantastic figure, straining to see who came behind her; but the little
 procession was at an end, for all the lesser members of the family had
 taken their seats, and the eight tall ushers, gathering themselves
-together like birds or insects preparing for some migratory manoeuvre,
+together like birds or insects preparing for some migratory manœuvre,
 were already slipping through the side doors into the lobby.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Newland&mdash;I say: SHE'S HERE!" the best man whispered.
+"Newland&mdash;I say: <i>she's here!</i>" the best man whispered.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -8140,7 +8124,7 @@ brain.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"My God," he thought, "HAVE I got the ring?"&mdash;and once more he went
+"My God," he thought, "<i>have</i> I got the ring?"&mdash;and once more he went
 through the bridegroom's convulsive gesture.
 </P>
 
@@ -8163,7 +8147,7 @@ emerged upon New York.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Your arm&mdash;I SAY, GIVE HER YOUR ARM!" young Newland nervously hissed;
+"Your arm&mdash;I <i>say, give her your arm!</i>" young Newland nervously hissed;
 and once more Archer became aware of having been adrift far off in the
 unknown.  What was it that had sent him there, he wondered?  Perhaps
 the glimpse, among the anonymous spectators in the transept, of a dark
@@ -8193,13 +8177,13 @@ clasped under her veil.
 him and he felt himself sinking into it, deeper and deeper, while his
 voice rambled on smoothly and cheerfully:  "Yes, of course I thought
 I'd lost the ring; no wedding would be complete if the poor devil of a
-bridegroom didn't go through that.  But you DID keep me waiting, you
+bridegroom didn't go through that.  But you <i>did</i> keep me waiting, you
 know!  I had time to think of every horror that might possibly happen."
 </P>
 
 <P>
 She surprised him by turning, in full Fifth Avenue, and flinging her
-arms about his neck.  "But none ever CAN happen now, can it, Newland,
+arms about his neck.  "But none ever <i>can</i> happen now, can it, Newland,
 as long as we two are together?"
 </P>
 
@@ -8354,8 +8338,8 @@ beginning&mdash;the wonderful luck we're always going to have together!"
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap20"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap20"></A>
+<H3>
 XX.
 </H3>
 
@@ -8382,7 +8366,7 @@ word with a "foreigner" other than those employed in hotels and
 railway-stations.  Their own compatriots&mdash;save those previously known
 or properly accredited&mdash;they treated with an even more pronounced
 disdain; so that, unless they ran across a Chivers, a Dagonet or a
-Mingott, their months abroad were spent in an unbroken tete-a-tete.
+Mingott, their months abroad were spent in an unbroken <i>tête-à-tête</i>.
 But the utmost precautions are sometimes unavailing; and one night at
 Botzen one of the two English ladies in the room across the passage
 (whose names, dress and social situation were already intimately known
@@ -8415,7 +8399,7 @@ out when they were to pass through London on their way to or from the
 States.  The intimacy became indissoluble, and Mrs. Archer and Janey,
 whenever they alighted at Brown's Hotel, found themselves awaited by
 two affectionate friends who, like themselves, cultivated ferns in
-Wardian cases, made macrame lace, read the memoirs of the Baroness
+Wardian cases, made macramé lace, read the memoirs of the Baroness
 Bunsen and had views about the occupants of the leading London pulpits.
 As Mrs. Archer said, it made "another thing of London" to know Mrs.
 Carfry and Miss Harle; and by the time that Newland became engaged the
@@ -8435,7 +8419,7 @@ was wrinkling her brows across the tea and muffins.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"It's all very well for you, Newland; you KNOW them.  But I shall feel
+"It's all very well for you, Newland; you <i>know</i> them.  But I shall feel
 so shy among a lot of people I've never met.  And what shall I wear?"
 </P>
 
@@ -8453,7 +8437,7 @@ last week."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Yes, of course.  I meant to say that I shan't know WHICH to wear."
+"Yes, of course.  I meant to say that I shan't know <i>which</i> to wear."
 She pouted a little.  "I've never dined out in London; and I don't want
 to be ridiculous."
 </P>
@@ -8532,14 +8516,14 @@ expected.  She regarded it (once her clothes were ordered) as merely an
 enlarged opportunity for walking, riding, swimming, and trying her hand
 at the fascinating new game of lawn tennis; and when they finally got
 back to London (where they were to spend a fortnight while he ordered
-HIS clothes) she no longer concealed the eagerness with which she
+<i>his</i> clothes) she no longer concealed the eagerness with which she
 looked forward to sailing.
 </P>
 
 <P>
 In London nothing interested her but the theatres and the shops; and
-she found the theatres less exciting than the Paris cafes chantants
-where, under the blossoming horse-chestnuts of the Champs Elysees, she
+she found the theatres less exciting than the Paris <i>cafés chantants</i>
+where, under the blossoming horse-chestnuts of the Champs Élysées, she
 had had the novel experience of looking down from the restaurant
 terrace on an audience of "cocottes," and having her husband interpret
 to her as much of the songs as he thought suitable for bridal ears.
@@ -8688,9 +8672,9 @@ and suddenly Archer found himself talking as he had not done since his
 last symposium with Ned Winsett.  The Carfry nephew, it turned out, had
 been threatened with consumption, and had had to leave Harrow for
 Switzerland, where he had spent two years in the milder air of Lake
-Leman.  Being a bookish youth, he had been entrusted to M. Riviere, who
+Leman.  Being a bookish youth, he had been entrusted to M. Rivière, who
 had brought him back to England, and was to remain with him till he
-went up to Oxford the following spring; and M. Riviere added with
+went up to Oxford the following spring; and M. Rivière added with
 simplicity that he should then have to look out for another job.
 </P>
 
@@ -8710,9 +8694,9 @@ insatiable taste for letters had thrown the young man into journalism,
 then into authorship (apparently unsuccessful), and at length&mdash;after
 other experiments and vicissitudes which he spared his listener&mdash;into
 tutoring English youths in Switzerland.  Before that, however, he had
-lived much in Paris, frequented the Goncourt grenier, been advised by
+lived much in Paris, frequented the Goncourt <i>grenier</i>, been advised by
 Maupassant not to attempt to write (even that seemed to Archer a
-dazzling honour!), and had often talked with Merimee in his mother's
+dazzling honour!), and had often talked with Mérimée in his mother's
 house.  He had obviously always been desperately poor and anxious
 (having a mother and an unmarried sister to provide for), and it was
 apparent that his literary ambitions had failed.  His situation, in
@@ -8730,14 +8714,14 @@ intellectual liberty, not to enslave one's powers of appreciation,
 one's critical independence?  It was because of that that I abandoned
 journalism, and took to so much duller work: tutoring and private
 secretaryship.  There is a good deal of drudgery, of course; but one
-preserves one's moral freedom, what we call in French one's quant a
-soi.  And when one hears good talk one can join in it without
+preserves one's moral freedom, what we call in French one's <i>quant à
+soi</i>.  And when one hears good talk one can join in it without
 compromising any opinions but one's own; or one can listen, and answer
 it inwardly.  Ah, good conversation&mdash;there's nothing like it, is there?
 The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.  And so I have never
 regretted giving up either diplomacy or journalism&mdash;two different forms
 of the same self-abdication."  He fixed his vivid eyes on Archer as he
-lit another cigarette.  "Voyez-vous, Monsieur, to be able to look life
+lit another cigarette.  "<i>Voyez-vous</i>, Monsieur, to be able to look life
 in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it?  But, after
 all, one must earn enough to pay for the garret; and I confess that to
 grow old as a private tutor&mdash;or a 'private' anything&mdash;is almost as
@@ -8750,7 +8734,7 @@ New York?"
 <P>
 Archer looked at him with startled eyes.  New York, for a young man who
 had frequented the Goncourts and Flaubert, and who thought the life of
-ideas the only one worth living!  He continued to stare at M.  Riviere
+ideas the only one worth living!  He continued to stare at M.  Rivière
 perplexedly, wondering how to tell him that his very superiorities and
 advantages would be the surest hindrance to success.
 </P>
@@ -8763,7 +8747,7 @@ necessity.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-A sudden flush rose under M. Riviere's sallow skin.  "I&mdash;I thought it
+A sudden flush rose under M. Rivière's sallow skin.  "I&mdash;I thought it
 your metropolis: is not the intellectual life more active there?" he
 rejoined; then, as if fearing to give his hearer the impression of
 having asked a favour, he went on hastily:  "One throws out random
@@ -8775,7 +8759,7 @@ taking you upstairs."
 
 <P>
 During the homeward drive Archer pondered deeply on this episode.  His
-hour with M. Riviere had put new air into his lungs, and his first
+hour with M. Rivière had put new air into his lungs, and his first
 impulse had been to invite him to dine the next day; but he was
 beginning to understand why married men did not always immediately
 yield to their first impulses.
@@ -8810,7 +8794,7 @@ But Archer was on edge, and took her up.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Common&mdash;common WHERE?" he queried; and she returned with unusual
+"Common&mdash;common <i>where</i>?" he queried; and she returned with unusual
 readiness:  "Why, I should say anywhere but in his school-room.  Those
 people are always awkward in society.  But then," she added
 disarmingly, "I suppose I shouldn't have known if he was clever."
@@ -8851,15 +8835,15 @@ tutors: what does he want to do?"
 <P>
 "Chiefly to enjoy good conversation, I understand," her husband
 retorted perversely; and she broke into an appreciative laugh.  "Oh,
-Newland, how funny!  Isn't that FRENCH?"
+Newland, how funny!  Isn't that <i>French</i>?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
 On the whole, he was glad to have the matter settled for him by her
-refusing to take seriously his wish to invite M. Riviere.  Another
+refusing to take seriously his wish to invite M. Rivière.  Another
 after-dinner talk would have made it difficult to avoid the question of
 New York; and the more Archer considered it the less he was able to fit
-M. Riviere into any conceivable picture of New York as he knew it.
+M. Rivière into any conceivable picture of New York as he knew it.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -8875,8 +8859,8 @@ angles whose sharpness he most wanted to keep.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap21"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap21"></A>
+<H3>
 XXI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -9103,8 +9087,8 @@ not catch.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-The Marchioness replied by one of her queer foreign jerks, and a "Que
-voulez-vous?" which deepened Beaufort's frown; but he produced a good
+The Marchioness replied by one of her queer foreign jerks, and a "<i>Que
+voulez-vous?</i>" which deepened Beaufort's frown; but he produced a good
 semblance of a congratulatory smile as he glanced at Archer to say:
 "You know May's going to carry off the first prize."
 </P>
@@ -9150,7 +9134,7 @@ kind of target she'll ever hit."
 <P>
 Archer felt irrationally angry.  His host's contemptuous tribute to
 May's "niceness" was just what a husband should have wished to hear
-said of his wife.  The fact that a coarseminded man found her lacking
+said of his wife.  The fact that a coarse-minded man found her lacking
 in attraction was simply another proof of her quality; yet the words
 sent a faint shiver through his heart.  What if "niceness" carried to
 that supreme degree were only a negation, the curtain dropped before an
@@ -9177,7 +9161,7 @@ Archer sitting at her side.
 <P>
 The afternoon sunlight still lingered upon the bright lawns and
 shrubberies, and up and down Bellevue Avenue rolled a double line of
-victorias, dog-carts, landaus and "vis-a-vis," carrying well-dressed
+victorias, dog-carts, landaus and "vis-à-vis," carrying well-dressed
 ladies and gentlemen away from the Beaufort garden-party, or homeward
 from their daily afternoon turn along the Ocean Drive.
 </P>
@@ -9193,7 +9177,7 @@ Archer acquiesced, and she turned the ponies down Narragansett Avenue,
 crossed Spring Street and drove out toward the rocky moorland beyond.
 In this unfashionable region Catherine the Great, always indifferent to
 precedent and thrifty of purse, had built herself in her youth a
-many-peaked and cross-beamed cottage-orne on a bit of cheap land
+many-peaked and cross-beamed <i>cottage-orné</i> on a bit of cheap land
 overlooking the bay.  Here, in a thicket of stunted oaks, her verandahs
 spread themselves above the island-dotted waters.  A winding drive led
 up between iron stags and blue glass balls embedded in mounds of
@@ -9238,7 +9222,7 @@ daughters&mdash;only boys, eh?  Good gracious, look at her blushing again
 all over her blushes!  What&mdash;can't I say that either?  Mercy me&mdash;when
 my children beg me to have all those gods and goddesses painted out
 overhead I always say I'm too thankful to have somebody about me that
-NOTHING can shock!"
+<i>nothing</i> can shock!"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -9253,7 +9237,7 @@ thought she was going back to Portsmouth?" she answered placidly: "So
 she is&mdash;but she's got to come here first to pick up Ellen.  Ah&mdash;you
 didn't know Ellen had come to spend the day with me?  Such fol-de-rol,
 her not coming for the summer; but I gave up arguing with young people
-about fifty years ago.  Ellen&mdash;ELLEN!" she cried in her shrill old
+about fifty years ago.  Ellen&mdash;<i>Ellen</i>!" she cried in her shrill old
 voice, trying to bend forward far enough to catch a glimpse of the lawn
 beyond the verandah.
 </P>
@@ -9388,7 +9372,7 @@ wonder if she wouldn't be happier with her husband."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-He burst into a laugh.  "Sancta simplicitas!" he exclaimed; and as she
+He burst into a laugh.  "<i>Sancta simplicitas!</i>" he exclaimed; and as she
 turned a puzzled frown on him he added:  "I don't think I ever heard
 you say a cruel thing before."
 </P>
@@ -9445,8 +9429,8 @@ trotters.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap22"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap22"></A>
+<H3>
 XXII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -9491,7 +9475,7 @@ and venerated family tree.  He was, as people said, a man who had had
 mother a Pennilow of Boston; on each side there was wealth and
 position, and mutual suitability.  Nothing&mdash;as Mrs. Welland had often
 remarked&mdash;nothing on earth obliged Emerson Sillerton to be an
-archaeologist, or indeed a Professor of any sort, or to live in Newport
+archæologist, or indeed a Professor of any sort, or to live in Newport
 in winter, or do any of the other revolutionary things that he did.
 But at least, if he was going to break with tradition and flout society
 in the face, he need not have married poor Amy Dagonet, who had a right
@@ -9514,7 +9498,7 @@ and send an unwilling representative.
 <P>
 "It's a wonder," Mrs. Welland remarked, "that they didn't choose the
 Cup Race day!  Do you remember, two years ago, their giving a party for
-a black man on the day of Julia Mingott's the dansant?  Luckily this
+a black man on the day of Julia Mingott's <i>thé dansant</i>?  Luckily this
 time there's nothing else going on that I know of&mdash;for of course some
 of us will have to go."
 </P>
@@ -9598,7 +9582,7 @@ Archer's mind on the very day when the Emerson Sillerton invitation had
 first been mentioned; but he had kept it to himself as if there were
 something clandestine in the plan, and discovery might prevent its
 execution.  He had, however, taken the precaution to engage in advance
-a runabout with a pair of old livery-stable trotters that could still
+a run-about with a pair of old livery-stable trotters that could still
 do their eighteen miles on level roads; and at two o'clock, hastily
 deserting the luncheon-table, he sprang into the light carriage and
 drove off.
@@ -9738,7 +9722,7 @@ the house seemed empty&mdash;so I sat down to wait."
 
 <P>
 Miss Blenker, shaking off the fumes of sleep, looked at him with
-increasing interest.  "The house IS empty.  Mother's not here, or the
+increasing interest.  "The house <i>is</i> empty.  Mother's not here, or the
 Marchioness&mdash;or anybody but me."  Her glance became faintly
 reproachful.  "Didn't you know that Professor and Mrs. Sillerton are
 giving a garden-party for mother and all of us this afternoon?  It was
@@ -9770,10 +9754,10 @@ We Blenkers are all like that ... real Bohemians!"  Recovering the
 sunshade with a powerful hand she unfurled it and suspended its rosy
 dome above her head.  "Yes, Ellen was called away yesterday: she lets
 us call her Ellen, you know.  A telegram came from Boston: she said she
-might be gone for two days.  I do LOVE the way she does her hair, don't
+might be gone for two days.  I do <i>love</i> the way she does her hair, don't
 you?" Miss Blenker rambled on.
 </P>
-
+8
 <P>
 Archer continued to stare through her as though she had been
 transparent.  All he saw was the trumpery parasol that arched its
@@ -9827,8 +9811,8 @@ gate and waving the pink parasol.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap23"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap23"></A>
+<H3>
 XXIII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -10044,7 +10028,7 @@ He paused again, beating about the question he felt he must put.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-She stared, and then burst into a laugh.  "Meet him&mdash;my husband?  HERE?
+She stared, and then burst into a laugh.  "Meet him&mdash;my husband?  <i>Here</i>?
 At this season he's always at Cowes or Baden."
 </P>
 
@@ -10359,8 +10343,8 @@ Olenska, without offering any objection, waited while he went in search
 of it.  The room opened on a long wooden verandah, with the sea coming
 in at the windows.  It was bare and cool, with a table covered with a
 coarse checkered cloth and adorned by a bottle of pickles and a
-blueberry pie under a cage.  No more guileless-looking cabinet
-particulier ever offered its shelter to a clandestine couple: Archer
+blueberry pie under a cage.  No more guileless-looking <i>cabinet
+particulier</i> ever offered its shelter to a clandestine couple: Archer
 fancied he saw the sense of its reassurance in the faintly amused smile
 with which Madame Olenska sat down opposite to him.  A woman who had
 run away from her husband&mdash;and reputedly with another man&mdash;was likely
@@ -10373,8 +10357,8 @@ thing for two old friends who had so much to say to each other....
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap24"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap24"></A>
+<H3>
 XXIV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -10509,7 +10493,7 @@ through!"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-She lowered her voice.  "IS it a bad business&mdash;for May?"
+She lowered her voice.  "<i>is</i> it a bad business&mdash;for May?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -10543,7 +10527,7 @@ her.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-Her eyes were clinging to him desperately.  "Oh, IS there no reason?"
+Her eyes were clinging to him desperately.  "Oh, <i>is</i> there no reason?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -10600,7 +10584,7 @@ apart.
 
 <P>
 "What's the use&mdash;when you will go back?" he broke out, a great hopeless
-HOW ON EARTH CAN I KEEP YOU?  crying out to her beneath his words.
+<i>How on earth can I keep you?</i> crying out to her beneath his words.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -10647,7 +10631,7 @@ She nodded.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Well; it IS all, isn't it?"
+"Well; it <i>is</i> all, isn't it?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -10688,8 +10672,8 @@ loomed in a line of haze.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap25"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap25"></A>
+<H3>
 XXV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -10756,13 +10740,13 @@ English:  "Surely, Monsieur, we met in London?"
 
 <P>
 "Ah, to be sure: in London!"  Archer grasped his hand with curiosity
-and sympathy.  "So you DID get here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting
+and sympathy.  "So you <i>did</i> get here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting
 a wondering eye on the astute and haggard little countenance of young
 Carfry's French tutor.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Oh, I got here&mdash;yes," M. Riviere smiled with drawn lips.  "But not for
+"Oh, I got here&mdash;yes," M. Rivière smiled with drawn lips.  "But not for
 long; I return the day after tomorrow." He stood grasping his light
 valise in one neatly gloved hand, and gazing anxiously, perplexedly,
 almost appealingly, into Archer's face.
@@ -10780,7 +10764,7 @@ decent restaurant in that quarter."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere was visibly touched and surprised.  "You're too kind.  But I
+M. Rivière was visibly touched and surprised.  "You're too kind.  But I
 was only going to ask if you would tell me how to reach some sort of
 conveyance.  There are no porters, and no one here seems to listen&mdash;"
 </P>
@@ -10806,7 +10790,7 @@ Archer walked away.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-Punctually at the hour M. Riviere appeared, shaved, smoothed-out, but
+Punctually at the hour M. Rivière appeared, shaved, smoothed-out, but
 still unmistakably drawn and serious.  Archer was alone in his office,
 and the young man, before accepting the seat he proffered, began
 abruptly: "I believe I saw you, sir, yesterday in Boston."
@@ -10819,7 +10803,7 @@ illuminating in his visitor's insistent gaze.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Riviere continued, "that
+"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Rivière continued, "that
 we should have met in the circumstances in which I find myself."
 </P>
 
@@ -10829,7 +10813,7 @@ needed money.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere continued to study him with tentative eyes.  "I have come,
+M. Rivière continued to study him with tentative eyes.  "I have come,
 not to look for employment, as I spoke of doing when we last met, but
 on a special mission&mdash;"
 </P>
@@ -10837,7 +10821,7 @@ on a special mission&mdash;"
 <P>
 "Ah&mdash;!" Archer exclaimed.  In a flash the two meetings had connected
 themselves in his mind.  He paused to take in the situation thus
-suddenly lighted up for him, and M. Riviere also remained silent, as if
+suddenly lighted up for him, and M. Rivière also remained silent, as if
 aware that what he had said was enough.
 </P>
 
@@ -10848,7 +10832,7 @@ aware that what he had said was enough.
 <P>
 The young Frenchman, opening his palms, raised them slightly, and the
 two men continued to look at each other across the office-desk till
-Archer roused himself to say:  "Do sit down"; whereupon M. Riviere
+Archer roused himself to say:  "Do sit down"; whereupon M. Rivière
 bowed, took a distant chair, and again waited.
 </P>
 
@@ -10858,7 +10842,7 @@ finally asked.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere bent his head.  "Not in my own behalf: on that score I&mdash;I
+M. Rivière bent his head.  "Not in my own behalf: on that score I&mdash;I
 have fully dealt with myself.  I should like&mdash;if I may&mdash;to speak to you
 about the Countess Olenska."
 </P>
@@ -10874,7 +10858,7 @@ had been caught by a bent-back branch in a thicket.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere met the question sturdily.  "Well&mdash;I might say HERS, if it
+M. Rivière met the question sturdily.  "Well&mdash;I might say <i>hers</i>, if it
 did not sound like a liberty.  Shall I say instead: on behalf of
 abstract justice?"
 </P>
@@ -10885,13 +10869,13 @@ Olenski's messenger?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-He saw his blush more darkly reflected in M. Riviere's sallow
-countenance.  "Not to YOU, Monsieur.  If I come to you, it is on quite
+He saw his blush more darkly reflected in M. Rivière's sallow
+countenance.  "Not to <i>you</i>, Monsieur.  If I come to you, it is on quite
 other grounds."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"What right have you, in the circumstances, to BE on any other ground?"
+"What right have you, in the circumstances, to <i>be</i> on any other ground?"
 Archer retorted.  "If you're an emissary you're an emissary."
 </P>
 
@@ -10905,7 +10889,7 @@ Olenska goes, it has failed."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"No: but you can help&mdash;"  M. Riviere paused, turned his hat about in
+"No: but you can help&mdash;"  M. Rivière paused, turned his hat about in
 his still carefully gloved hands, looked into its lining and then back
 at Archer's face.  "You can help, Monsieur, I am convinced, to make it
 equally a failure with her family."
@@ -10919,7 +10903,7 @@ risen, was still an inch or two below the line of Archer's eyes.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere paled to his normal hue: paler than that his complexion
+M. Rivière paled to his normal hue: paler than that his complexion
 could hardly turn.
 </P>
 
@@ -10931,7 +10915,7 @@ the rest of her family?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-The change of expression in M. Riviere's face was for a time his only
+The change of expression in M. Rivière's face was for a time his only
 answer.  His look passed from timidity to absolute distress: for a
 young man of his usually resourceful mien it would have been difficult
 to appear more disarmed and defenceless.  "Oh, Monsieur&mdash;"
@@ -10945,7 +10929,7 @@ were sent over with."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere took this onslaught with a disconcerting humility.  "The
+M. Rivière took this onslaught with a disconcerting humility.  "The
 arguments I want to present to you, Monsieur, are my own and not those
 I was sent over with."
 </P>
@@ -10955,7 +10939,7 @@ I was sent over with."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere again looked into his hat, as if considering whether these
+M. Rivière again looked into his hat, as if considering whether these
 last words were not a sufficiently broad hint to put it on and be gone.
 Then he spoke with sudden decision.  "Monsieur&mdash;will you tell me one
 thing?  Is it my right to be here that you question?  Or do you perhaps
@@ -10964,7 +10948,7 @@ believe the whole matter to be already closed?"
 
 <P>
 His quiet insistence made Archer feel the clumsiness of his own
-bluster.  M. Riviere had succeeded in imposing himself:  Archer,
+bluster.  M. Rivière had succeeded in imposing himself:  Archer,
 reddening slightly, dropped into his chair again, and signed to the
 young man to be seated.
 </P>
@@ -10974,7 +10958,7 @@ young man to be seated.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere gazed back at him with anguish.  "You do, then, agree with
+M. Rivière gazed back at him with anguish.  "You do, then, agree with
 the rest of the family that, in face of the new proposals I have
 brought, it is hardly possible for Madame Olenska not to return to her
 husband?"
@@ -11037,8 +11021,8 @@ last proposals?"
 
 <P>
 It was on Archer's lips to exclaim that whatever he knew or did not
-know was no concern of M. Riviere's; but something in the humble and
-yet courageous tenacity of M. Riviere's gaze made him reject this
+know was no concern of M. Rivière's; but something in the humble and
+yet courageous tenacity of M. Rivière's gaze made him reject this
 conclusion, and he met the young man's question with another.  "What is
 your object in speaking to me of this?"
 </P>
@@ -11046,7 +11030,7 @@ your object in speaking to me of this?"
 <P>
 He had not to wait a moment for the answer.  "To beg you, Monsieur&mdash;to
 beg you with all the force I'm capable of&mdash;not to let her go back.&mdash;Oh,
-don't let her!" M. Riviere exclaimed.
+don't let her!" M. Rivière exclaimed.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -11063,7 +11047,7 @@ Countess Olenska?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere reddened, but his eyes did not falter.  "No, Monsieur: I
+M. Rivière reddened, but his eyes did not falter.  "No, Monsieur: I
 accepted my mission in good faith.  I really believed&mdash;for reasons I
 need not trouble you with&mdash;that it would be better for Madame Olenska
 to recover her situation, her fortune, the social consideration that
@@ -11107,7 +11091,7 @@ changed my mind, that I came to see things differently."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Simply seeing the change in HER," M. Riviere replied.
+"Simply seeing the change in <i>her</i>," M. Rivière replied.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -11133,16 +11117,16 @@ rule seemed as strange as anything that the imagination could invent.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Ah, Monsieur, if I could tell you!"  M. Riviere paused.  "Tenez&mdash;the
+"Ah, Monsieur, if I could tell you!"  M. Rivière paused.  "<i>Tenez</i>&mdash;the
 discovery, I suppose, of what I'd never thought of before: that she's
-an American.  And that if you're an American of HER kind&mdash;of your
+an American.  And that if you're an American of <i>her</i> kind&mdash;of your
 kind&mdash;things that are accepted in certain other societies, or at least
 put up with as part of a general convenient give-and-take&mdash;become
 unthinkable, simply unthinkable.  If Madame Olenska's relations
 understood what these things were, their opposition to her returning
 would no doubt be as unconditional as her own; but they seem to regard
 her husband's wish to have her back as proof of an irresistible longing
-for domestic life."  M. Riviere paused, and then added:  "Whereas it's
+for domestic life."  M. Rivière paused, and then added:  "Whereas it's
 far from being as simple as that."
 </P>
 
@@ -11150,7 +11134,7 @@ far from being as simple as that."
 Archer looked back to the President of the United States, and then down
 at his desk and at the papers scattered on it.  For a second or two he
 could not trust himself to speak.  During this interval he heard M.
-Riviere's chair pushed back, and was aware that the young man had
+Rivière's chair pushed back, and was aware that the young man had
 risen.  When he glanced up again he saw that his visitor was as moved
 as himself.
 </P>
@@ -11161,7 +11145,7 @@ as himself.
 
 <P>
 "There's nothing to thank me for, Monsieur: it is I, rather&mdash;"  M.
-Riviere broke off, as if speech for him too were difficult.  "I should
+Rivière broke off, as if speech for him too were difficult.  "I should
 like, though," he continued in a firmer voice, "to add one thing.  You
 asked me if I was in Count Olenski's employ.  I am at this moment: I
 returned to him, a few months ago, for reasons of private necessity
@@ -11173,7 +11157,7 @@ all, Monsieur."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-M. Riviere bowed and drew back a step.
+M. Rivière bowed and drew back a step.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -11182,8 +11166,8 @@ M. Riviere bowed and drew back a step.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap26"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap26"></A>
+<H3>
 XXVI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -11241,7 +11225,7 @@ herself part of a community that was trending.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"There's no doubt that Dr. Ashmore is right: there IS a marked trend,"
+"There's no doubt that Dr. Ashmore is right: there <i>is</i> a marked trend,"
 she said, as if it were something visible and measurable, like a crack
 in a house.
 </P>
@@ -11268,7 +11252,7 @@ over her Paris dresses before she wears them."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Ah, Jane Merry is one of US," said Mrs. Archer sighing, as if it were
+"Ah, Jane Merry is one of <i>us</i>," said Mrs. Archer sighing, as if it were
 not such an enviable thing to be in an age when ladies were beginning
 to flaunt abroad their Paris dresses as soon as they were out of the
 Custom House, instead of letting them mellow under lock and key, in the
@@ -11363,16 +11347,16 @@ her champagne was transmuted Shoe-Polish.
 
 <P>
 "I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Archer sighed.  "Such things have to be, I
-suppose, as long as AMUSEMENT is what people go out for; but I've never
+suppose, as long as <i>amusement</i> is what people go out for; but I've never
 quite forgiven your cousin Madame Olenska for being the first person to
 countenance Mrs. Struthers."
 </P>
 
 <P>
 A sudden blush rose to young Mrs. Archer's face; it surprised her
-husband as much as the other guests about the table.  "Oh, ELLEN&mdash;" she
+husband as much as the other guests about the table.  "Oh, <i>Ellen</i>&mdash;" she
 murmured, much in the same accusing and yet deprecating tone in which
-her parents might have said:  "Oh, THE BLENKERS&mdash;."
+her parents might have said:  "Oh, <i>the Blenkers</i>&mdash;."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -11568,8 +11552,8 @@ herself&mdash;that the family reduced Countess Olenska's allowance
 considerably when she definitely refused to go back to her husband; and
 as, by this refusal, she also forfeits the money settled on her when
 she married&mdash;which Olenski was ready to make over to her if she
-returned&mdash;why, what the devil do YOU mean, my dear boy, by asking me
-what I mean?" Mr. Jackson good-humouredly retorted.
+returned&mdash;why, what the devil do <i>you</i> mean, my dear boy, by asking me
+what <i>I</i> mean?" Mr. Jackson good-humouredly retorted.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -11592,14 +11576,14 @@ out contemptuously.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Ah&mdash;DID he?" snapped the other, as if this were exactly the fact he
+"Ah&mdash;<i>did</i> he?" snapped the other, as if this were exactly the fact he
 had been laying a trap for.  He still sat sideways from the fire, so
 that his hard old gaze held Archer's face as if in a spring of steel.
 </P>
 
 <P>
 "Well, well: it's a pity she didn't go back before Beaufort's cropper,"
-he repeated.  "If she goes NOW, and if he fails, it will only confirm
+he repeated.  "If she goes <i>now</i>, and if he fails, it will only confirm
 the general impression: which isn't by any means peculiar to Lefferts,
 by the way."
 </P>
@@ -11748,8 +11732,8 @@ housekeeping air.  On the threshold she turned and paused for his kiss.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap27"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap27"></A>
+<H3>
 XXVII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -11797,7 +11781,7 @@ had reassured his depositors, and heavy payments had poured into the
 bank till the previous evening, when disturbing reports again began to
 predominate.  In consequence, a run on the bank had begun, and its
 doors were likely to close before the day was over.  The ugliest things
-were being said of Beaufort's dastardly manoeuvre, and his failure
+were being said of Beaufort's dastardly manœuvre, and his failure
 promised to be one of the most discreditable in the history of Wall
 Street.
 </P>
@@ -11806,7 +11790,7 @@ Street.
 The extent of the calamity left Mr. Letterblair white and
 incapacitated.  "I've seen bad things in my time; but nothing as bad as
 this.  Everybody we know will be hit, one way or another.  And what
-will be done about Mrs. Beaufort?  What CAN be done about her?  I pity
+will be done about Mrs. Beaufort?  What <i>can</i> be done about her?  I pity
 Mrs. Manson Mingott as much as anybody: coming at her age, there's no
 knowing what effect this affair may have on her.  She always believed
 in Beaufort&mdash;she made a friend of him!  And there's the whole Dallas
@@ -11853,7 +11837,7 @@ second time, took a more hopeful view, and Mrs. Mingott's dauntless
 determination to live and get well was already having an effect on her
 family.  May led Archer into the old lady's sitting-room, where the
 sliding doors opening into the bedroom had been drawn shut, and the
-heavy yellow damask portieres dropped over them; and here Mrs. Welland
+heavy yellow damask portières dropped over them; and here Mrs. Welland
 communicated to him in horrified undertones the details of the
 catastrophe.  It appeared that the evening before something dreadful
 and mysterious had happened.  At about eight o'clock, just after Mrs.
@@ -11911,7 +11895,7 @@ knowing these horrors?" the poor lady wailed.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"After all, Mamma, he won't have SEEN them," her daughter suggested;
+"After all, Mamma, he won't have <i>seen</i> them," her daughter suggested;
 and Mrs. Welland sighed:  "Ah, no; thank heaven he's safe in bed.  And
 Dr. Bencomb has promised to keep him there till poor Mamma is better,
 and Regina has been got away somewhere."
@@ -11930,7 +11914,7 @@ Beaufort's dishonour and of his wife's unjustifiable action.
 
 <P>
 Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who had been in another room writing notes,
-presently reappeared, and added her voice to the discussion.  In THEIR
+presently reappeared, and added her voice to the discussion.  In <i>their</i>
 day, the elder ladies agreed, the wife of a man who had done anything
 disgraceful in business had only one idea: to efface herself, to
 disappear with him.  "There was the case of poor Grandmamma Spicer;
@@ -11960,7 +11944,7 @@ financial probity as the first law of a gentleman's code was too deeply
 ingrained in him for sentimental considerations to weaken it.  An
 adventurer like Lemuel Struthers might build up the millions of his
 Shoe Polish on any number of shady dealings; but unblemished honesty
-was the noblesse oblige of old financial New York.  Nor did Mrs.
+was the <i>noblesse oblige</i> of old financial New York.  Nor did Mrs.
 Beaufort's fate greatly move Archer.  He felt, no doubt, more sorry for
 her than her indignant relatives; but it seemed to him that the tie
 between husband and wife, even if breakable in prosperity, should be
@@ -12049,13 +12033,13 @@ telegraph office.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap28"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap28"></A>
+<H3>
 XXVIII.
 </H3>
 
 <P>
-"Ol-ol&mdash;howjer spell it, anyhow?" asked the tart young lady to whom
+"Ol&mdash;ol&mdash;howjer spell it, anyhow?" asked the tart young lady to whom
 Archer had pushed his wife's telegram across the brass ledge of the
 Western Union office.
 </P>
@@ -12085,7 +12069,7 @@ Archer nodded, and pushed his telegram under the lattice.
 
 <P>
 "Very bad, eh?" Lefferts continued.  "Wiring to the family, I suppose.
-I gather it IS bad, if you're including Countess Olenska."
+I gather it <i>is</i> bad, if you're including Countess Olenska."
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -12139,7 +12123,7 @@ object of her nocturnal visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott had become
 known&mdash;her cynicism was held to exceed his; and she had not the
 excuse&mdash;nor her detractors the satisfaction&mdash;of pleading that she was
 "a foreigner."  It was some comfort (to those whose securities were not
-in jeopardy) to be able to remind themselves that Beaufort WAS; but,
+in jeopardy) to be able to remind themselves that Beaufort <i>was</i>; but,
 after all, if a Dallas of South Carolina took his view of the case, and
 glibly talked of his soon being "on his feet again," the argument lost
 its edge, and there was nothing to do but to accept this awful evidence
@@ -12168,7 +12152,7 @@ the world her family meant by making such a fuss about her health.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"If people of my age WILL eat chicken-salad in the evening what are
+"If people of my age <i>will</i> eat chicken-salad in the evening what are
 they to expect?" she enquired; and, the doctor having opportunely
 modified her dietary, the stroke was transformed into an attack of
 indigestion.  But in spite of her firm tone old Catherine did not
@@ -12281,7 +12265,7 @@ there."  His heart was beating excitedly as he spoke.
 <P>
 Mrs. Welland heaved a sigh of gratitude, and May, who had moved away to
 the window, turned to shed on him a beam of approval.  "So you see,
-Mamma, everything WILL be settled twenty-four hours in advance," she
+Mamma, everything <i>will</i> be settled twenty-four hours in advance," she
 said, stooping over to kiss her mother's troubled forehead.
 </P>
 
@@ -12320,7 +12304,7 @@ this morning."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Then it's NOT postponed?" she continued, with an insistence so unlike
+"Then it's <i>not</i> postponed?" she continued, with an insistence so unlike
 her that he felt the blood rising to his face, as if he were blushing
 for her unwonted lapse from all the traditional delicacies.
 </P>
@@ -12344,7 +12328,7 @@ than either cared to go.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Yes; it IS awfully convenient," May brightly agreed, "that you should
+"Yes; it <i>is</i> awfully convenient," May brightly agreed, "that you should
 be able to meet Ellen after all; you saw how much Mamma appreciated
 your offering to do it."
 </P>
@@ -12364,8 +12348,8 @@ old Catherine's.  It's all of two hours&mdash;and it may be more."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap29"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap29"></A>
+<H3>
 XXIX.
 </H3>
 
@@ -12464,8 +12448,8 @@ arrangements&mdash;I very nearly crossed you in the train."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"I mean: how shall I explain?  I&mdash;it's always so.  EACH TIME YOU HAPPEN
-TO ME ALL OVER AGAIN."
+"I mean: how shall I explain?  I&mdash;it's always so.  <i>Each time you happen
+to me all over again.</i>"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -12515,18 +12499,18 @@ husband's secretary came to see me the day after we met in Boston."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-In his brief letter to her he had made no allusion to M. Riviere's
+In his brief letter to her he had made no allusion to M. Rivière's
 visit, and his intention had been to bury the incident in his bosom.
 But her reminder that they were in his wife's carriage provoked him to
 an impulse of retaliation.  He would see if she liked his reference to
-Riviere any better than he liked hers to May!  As on certain other
+Rivière any better than he liked hers to May!  As on certain other
 occasions when he had expected to shake her out of her usual composure,
 she betrayed no sign of surprise: and at once he concluded:  "He writes
 to her, then."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"M. Riviere went to see you?"
+"M. Rivière went to see you?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -12556,7 +12540,7 @@ you; that he'd met you in England I think."
 
 <P>
 "I wanted to ask it after I saw him, but I couldn't put it in a letter.
-It was Riviere who helped you to get away&mdash;when you left your husband?"
+It was Rivière who helped you to get away&mdash;when you left your husband?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -12721,7 +12705,7 @@ phrase she had used a little while before.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"Yes, the Gorgon HAS dried your tears," he said.
+"Yes, the Gorgon <i>has</i> dried your tears," he said.
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -12743,7 +12727,7 @@ trotter.  Archer choked with the sense of wasted minutes and vain words.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"For US?  But there's no US in that sense!  We're near each other only
+"For <i>us</i>?  But there's no <i>us</i> in that sense!  We're near each other only
 if we stay far from each other.  Then we can be ourselves.  Otherwise
 we're only Newland Archer, the husband of Ellen Olenska's cousin, and
 Ellen Olenska, the cousin of Newland Archer's wife, trying to be happy
@@ -12796,8 +12780,8 @@ Fifth Avenue to his own house.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap30"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap30"></A>
+<H3>
 XXX.
 </H3>
 
@@ -12960,13 +12944,13 @@ her say:  "Newland!  Do shut the window.  You'll catch your death."
 
 <P>
 He pulled the sash down and turned back.  "Catch my death!" he echoed;
-and he felt like adding:  "But I've caught it already.  I AM dead&mdash;I've
+and he felt like adding:  "But I've caught it already.  I <i>am</i> dead&mdash;I've
 been dead for months and months."
 </P>
 
 <P>
 And suddenly the play of the word flashed up a wild suggestion.  What
-if it were SHE who was dead!  If she were going to die&mdash;to die
+if it were <i>she</i> who was dead!  If she were going to die&mdash;to die
 soon&mdash;and leave him free!  The sensation of standing there, in that
 warm familiar room, and looking at her, and wishing her dead, was so
 strange, so fascinating and overmastering, that its enormity did not
@@ -13010,7 +12994,7 @@ over her work:  "I shall never worry if you're happy."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"In THIS weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh he buried his head
+"In <i>this</i> weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh he buried his head
 in his book.
 </P>
 
@@ -13250,7 +13234,7 @@ and yet all my family want me to go back to him.'  Well, that floored
 me, and I let her go; and finally one day she said it was raining too
 hard to go out on foot, and she wanted me to lend her my carriage.
 'What for?' I asked her; and she said: 'To go and see cousin
-Regina'&mdash;COUSIN!  Now, my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it
+Regina'&mdash;<i>cousin</i>!  Now, my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it
 wasn't raining a drop; but I understood her, and I let her have the
 carriage....  After all, Regina's a brave woman, and so is she; and
 I've always liked courage above everything."
@@ -13270,8 +13254,8 @@ Granny's love; but you'd better not say anything about our talk."
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap31"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap31"></A>
+<H3>
 XXXI.
 </H3>
 
@@ -13628,7 +13612,7 @@ She looked down at her muff, and he saw her hands stir in it uneasily.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"You WERE afraid?  You knew&mdash;?"
+"You <i>were</i> afraid?  You knew&mdash;?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -13979,8 +13963,8 @@ tremble in his arms.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap32"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap32"></A>
+<H3>
 XXXII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -14155,7 +14139,7 @@ he had looked at, two years previously, on the night of his first
 meeting with Ellen Olenska.  He had half-expected her to appear again
 in old Mrs. Mingott's box, but it remained empty; and he sat
 motionless, his eyes fastened on it, till suddenly Madame Nilsson's
-pure soprano broke out into "M'ama, non m'ama ..."
+pure soprano broke out into "<i>M'ama, non m'ama ...</i>"
 </P>
 
 <P>
@@ -14219,7 +14203,7 @@ Mrs. van der Luyden's box as if it had been a gate into the unknown.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"M'ama!" thrilled out the triumphant Marguerite; and the occupants of
+"<i>M'ama</i>!" thrilled out the triumphant Marguerite; and the occupants of
 the box looked up in surprise at Archer's entrance.  He had already
 broken one of the rules of his world, which forbade the entering of a
 box during a solo.
@@ -14495,8 +14479,8 @@ room.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap33"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap33"></A>
+<H3>
 XXXIII.
 </H3>
 
@@ -14757,7 +14741,7 @@ setting of immaculate tiles.
 The tall lamps were all lit, and Mr. van der Luyden's orchids had been
 conspicuously disposed in various receptacles of modern porcelain and
 knobby silver.  Mrs. Newland Archer's drawing-room was generally
-thought a great success.  A gilt bamboo jardiniere, in which the
+thought a great success.  A gilt bamboo <i>jardinière</i>, in which the
 primulas and cinerarias were punctually renewed, blocked the access to
 the bay window (where the old-fashioned would have preferred a bronze
 reduction of the Venus of Milo); the sofas and arm-chairs of pale
@@ -14869,7 +14853,7 @@ prisoner in the centre of an armed camp.  He looked about the table,
 and guessed at the inexorableness of his captors from the tone in
 which, over the asparagus from Florida, they were dealing with Beaufort
 and his wife.  "It's to show me," he thought, "what would happen to
-ME&mdash;" and a deathly sense of the superiority of implication and analogy
+<i>me</i>&mdash;" and a deathly sense of the superiority of implication and analogy
 over direct action, and of silence over rash words, closed in on him
 like the doors of the family vault.
 </P>
@@ -15110,7 +15094,7 @@ brick!  Good-night."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-"It DID go off beautifully, didn't it?" May questioned from the
+"It <i>did</i> go off beautifully, didn't it?" May questioned from the
 threshold of the library.
 </P>
 
@@ -15243,7 +15227,7 @@ me."
 </P>
 
 <P>
-He felt that his wife was watching him intently.  "Did you MIND my
+He felt that his wife was watching him intently.  "Did you <i>mind</i> my
 telling her first, Newland?"
 </P>
 
@@ -15261,8 +15245,8 @@ her blue eyes wet with victory.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="chap34"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="chap34"></A>
+<H3>
 XXXIV.
 </H3>
 
@@ -15325,7 +15309,7 @@ rising New York architect.
 The young men nowadays were emancipating themselves from the law and
 business and taking up all sorts of new things.  If they were not
 absorbed in state politics or municipal reform, the chances were that
-they were going in for Central American archaeology, for architecture
+they were going in for Central American archæology, for architecture
 or landscape-engineering; taking a keen and learned interest in the
 prerevolutionary buildings of their own country, studying and adapting
 Georgian types, and protesting at the meaningless use of the word
@@ -15352,7 +15336,7 @@ irresistible.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-Archer, as he looked back, was not sure that men like himself WERE what
+Archer, as he looked back, was not sure that men like himself <i>were</i> what
 his country needed, at least in the active service to which Theodore
 Roosevelt had pointed; in fact, there was reason to think it did not,
 for after a year in the State Assembly he had not been re-elected, and
@@ -15386,7 +15370,7 @@ a man ought to ask.
 Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life.  But he thought of
 it now as a thing so unattainable and improbable that to have repined
 would have been like despairing because one had not drawn the first
-prize in a lottery.  There were a hundred million tickets in HIS
+prize in a lottery.  There were a hundred million tickets in <i>his</i>
 lottery, and there was only one prize; the chances had been too
 decidedly against him.  When he thought of Ellen Olenska it was
 abstractly, serenely, as one might think of some imaginary beloved in a
@@ -15602,7 +15586,7 @@ announced.
 </P>
 
 <P>
-Nothing could more dearly give the measure of the distance that the
+Nothing could more clearly give the measure of the distance that the
 world had travelled.  People nowadays were too busy&mdash;busy with reforms
 and "movements," with fads and fetishes and frivolities&mdash;to bother much
 about their neighbours.  And of what account was anybody's past, in the
@@ -15637,7 +15621,7 @@ certain of in advance: can it ever make one's heart beat as wildly?"
 <P>
 It was the day after their arrival in Paris, and the spring sunshine
 held Archer in his open window, above the wide silvery prospect of the
-Place Vendome.  One of the things he had stipulated&mdash;almost the only
+Place Vendôme.  One of the things he had stipulated&mdash;almost the only
 one&mdash;when he had agreed to come abroad with Dallas, was that, in Paris,
 he shouldn't be made to go to one of the newfangled "palaces."
 </P>
@@ -15720,7 +15704,7 @@ lovely?"
 
 <P>
 "Ah&mdash;there you have it!  That's what it always comes to, doesn't it?
-When she comes, SHE'S DIFFERENT&mdash;and one doesn't know why.  It's
+When she comes, <i>she's different</i>&mdash;and one doesn't know why.  It's
 exactly what I feel about Fanny."
 </P>
 
@@ -15802,7 +15786,7 @@ wife moved him indescribably.  Dallas, for all his affectionate
 insight, would not have understood that.  To the boy, no doubt, the
 episode was only a pathetic instance of vain frustration, of wasted
 forces.  But was it really no more?  For a long time Archer sat on a
-bench in the Champs Elysees and wondered, while the stream of life
+bench in the Champs Élysées and wondered, while the stream of life
 rolled by....
 </P>
 
@@ -15888,7 +15872,7 @@ nothing like it, is there?"
 </P>
 
 <P>
-Archer had not seen M. Riviere, or heard of him, for nearly thirty
+Archer had not seen M. Rivière, or heard of him, for nearly thirty
 years; and that fact gave the measure of his ignorance of Madame
 Olenska's existence.  More than half a lifetime divided them, and she
 had spent the long interval among people he did not know, in a society
@@ -15930,7 +15914,7 @@ still lowered, as though the sun had just left it.
 
 <P>
 "I wonder which floor&mdash;?" Dallas conjectured; and moving toward the
-porte-cochere he put his head into the porter's lodge, and came back to
+<i>porte-cochère</i> he put his head into the porter's lodge, and came back to
 say:  "The fifth.  It must be the one with the awnings."
 </P>
 
@@ -16043,8 +16027,8 @@ up slowly and walked back alone to his hotel.
 
 <BR><BR><BR>
 
-<A NAME="note"></A>
-<H3 ALIGN="center">
+<a id="note"></A>
+<H3>
 A Note on the Text
 </H3>
 
@@ -16064,386 +16048,6 @@ obviously authorial.
 
 <BR><BR><BR><BR>
 
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton
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-
-The Age of Innocence
-by Edith Wharton
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Book I
-
-
-
-I.
-
-On a January evening of the early seventies, Christine
-Nilsson was singing in Faust at the Academy of
-Music in New York.
-
-Though there was already talk of the erection, in
-remote metropolitan distances "above the Forties," of
-a new Opera House which should compete in costliness
-and splendour with those of the great European capitals,
-the world of fashion was still content to reassemble
-every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of
-the sociable old Academy.  Conservatives cherished it
-for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out
-the "new people" whom New York was beginning to
-dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung
-to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its
-excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in
-halls built for the hearing of music.
-
-It was Madame Nilsson's first appearance that
-winter, and what the daily press had already learned to
-describe as "an exceptionally brilliant audience" had
-gathered to hear her, transported through the slippery,
-snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious
-family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient
-"Brown coupe." To come to the Opera in a Brown
-coupe was almost as honourable a way of arriving
-as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same
-means had the immense advantage of enabling one
-(with a playful allusion to democratic principles) to
-scramble into the first Brown conveyance in the line,
-instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose
-of one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of
-the Academy.  It was one of the great livery-stableman's
-most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans
-want to get away from amusement even more
-quickly than they want to get to it.
-
-When Newland Archer opened the door at the back
-of the club box the curtain had just gone up on the
-garden scene.  There was no reason why the young man
-should not have come earlier, for he had dined at
-seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered
-afterward over a cigar in the Gothic library with
-glazed black-walnut bookcases and finial-topped chairs
-which was the only room in the house where Mrs.
-Archer allowed smoking.  But, in the first place, New
-York was a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in
-metropolises it was "not the thing" to arrive early at
-the opera; and what was or was not "the thing" played
-a part as important in Newland Archer's New York as
-the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies
-of his forefathers thousands of years ago.
-
-The second reason for his delay was a personal one.
-He had dawdled over his cigar because he was at heart
-a dilettante, and thinking over a pleasure to come often
-gave him a subtler satisfaction than its realisation.  This
-was especially the case when the pleasure was a delicate
-one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this
-occasion the moment he looked forward to was so rare
-and exquisite in quality that--well, if he had timed his
-arrival in accord with the prima donna's stage-manager
-he could not have entered the Academy at a more
-significant moment than just as she was singing:  "He
-loves me--he loves me not--HE LOVES ME!--" and
-sprinkling the falling daisy petals with notes as clear as
-dew.
-
-She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves
-me," since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the
-musical world required that the German text of French
-operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated
-into Italian for the clearer understanding of English-
-speaking audiences.  This seemed as natural to Newland
-Archer as all the other conventions on which his life
-was moulded: such as the duty of using two silver-
-backed brushes with his monogram in blue enamel to
-part his hair, and of never appearing in society without
-a flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
-
-"M'ama . . . non m'ama . . . " the prima donna sang,
-and "M'ama!", with a final burst of love triumphant,
-as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to her lips and
-lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of
-the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying,
-in a tight purple velvet doublet and plumed cap, to
-look as pure and true as his artless victim.
-
-Newland Archer, leaning against the wall at the back
-of the club box, turned his eyes from the stage and
-scanned the opposite side of the house.  Directly facing
-him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott, whose
-monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible
-for her to attend the Opera, but who was always
-represented on fashionable nights by some of the younger
-members of the family.  On this occasion, the front
-of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs.
-Lovell Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and
-slightly withdrawn behind these brocaded matrons sat
-a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically fixed on the
-stagelovers.  As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled
-out above the silent house (the boxes always stopped
-talking during the Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted
-to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow to the roots of her
-fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her breast
-to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened
-with a single gardenia.  She dropped her eyes to the
-immense bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee,
-and Newland Archer saw her white-gloved finger-tips
-touch the flowers softly.  He drew a breath of satisfied
-vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
-
-No expense had been spared on the setting, which
-was acknowledged to be very beautiful even by people
-who shared his acquaintance with the Opera houses of
-Paris and Vienna.  The foreground, to the footlights,
-was covered with emerald green cloth.  In the middle
-distance symmetrical mounds of woolly green moss
-bounded by croquet hoops formed the base of shrubs
-shaped like orange-trees but studded with large pink
-and red roses.  Gigantic pansies, considerably larger
-than the roses, and closely resembling the floral pen-
-wipers made by female parishioners for fashionable
-clergymen, sprang from the moss beneath the rose-
-trees; and here and there a daisy grafted on a rose-
-branch flowered with a luxuriance prophetic of Mr.
-Luther Burbank's far-off prodigies.
-
-In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame
-Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin,
-a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow
-braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin
-chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's
-impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension
-of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he
-persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the
-neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
-
-"The darling!" thought Newland Archer, his glance
-flitting back to the young girl with the lilies-of-the-
-valley.  "She doesn't even guess what it's all about."
-And he contemplated her absorbed young face with a
-thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine
-initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for
-her abysmal purity.  "We'll read Faust together . . . by
-the Italian lakes . . ." he thought, somewhat hazily
-confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with
-the masterpieces of literature which it would be his
-manly privilege to reveal to his bride.  It was only that
-afternoon that May Welland had let him guess that she
-"cared" (New York's consecrated phrase of maiden
-avowal), and already his imagination, leaping ahead of
-the engagement ring, the betrothal kiss and the march
-from Lohengrin, pictured her at his side in some scene
-of old European witchery.
-
-He did not in the least wish the future Mrs. Newland
-Archer to be a simpleton.  He meant her (thanks to his
-enlightening companionship) to develop a social tact
-and readiness of wit enabling her to hold her own with
-the most popular married women of the "younger set,"
-in which it was the recognised custom to attract masculine
-homage while playfully discouraging it.  If he had
-probed to the bottom of his vanity (as he sometimes
-nearly did) he would have found there the wish that his
-wife should be as worldly-wise and as eager to please
-as the married lady whose charms had held his fancy
-through two mildly agitated years; without, of course,
-any hint of the frailty which had so nearly marred that
-unhappy being's life, and had disarranged his own
-plans for a whole winter.
-
-How this miracle of fire and ice was to be created,
-and to sustain itself in a harsh world, he had never
-taken the time to think out; but he was content to hold
-his view without analysing it, since he knew it was that
-of all the carefully-brushed, white-waistcoated, button-
-hole-flowered gentlemen who succeeded each other in
-the club box, exchanged friendly greetings with him,
-and turned their opera-glasses critically on the circle of
-ladies who were the product of the system.  In matters
-intellectual and artistic Newland Archer felt himself
-distinctly the superior of these chosen specimens of old
-New York gentility; he had probably read more, thought
-more, and even seen a good deal more of the world,
-than any other man of the number.  Singly they betrayed
-their inferiority; but grouped together they represented
-"New York," and the habit of masculine solidarity
-made him accept their doctrine on all the issues called
-moral.  He instinctively felt that in this respect it would
-be troublesome--and also rather bad form--to strike
-out for himself.
-
-"Well--upon my soul!" exclaimed Lawrence Lefferts,
-turning his opera-glass abruptly away from the stage.
-Lawrence Lefferts was, on the whole, the foremost
-authority on "form" in New York.  He had probably
-devoted more time than any one else to the study of
-this intricate and fascinating question; but study alone
-could not account for his complete and easy competence.
-One had only to look at him, from the slant of
-his bald forehead and the curve of his beautiful fair
-moustache to the long patent-leather feet at the other
-end of his lean and elegant person, to feel that the
-knowledge of "form" must be congenital in any one
-who knew how to wear such good clothes so carelessly
-and carry such height with so much lounging grace.  As
-a young admirer had once said of him:  "If anybody can
-tell a fellow just when to wear a black tie with evening
-clothes and when not to, it's Larry Lefferts."  And on
-the question of pumps versus patent-leather "Oxfords"
-his authority had never been disputed.
-
-"My God!" he said; and silently handed his glass to
-old Sillerton Jackson.
-
-Newland Archer, following Lefferts's glance, saw with
-surprise that his exclamation had been occasioned by
-the entry of a new figure into old Mrs. Mingott's box.
-It was that of a slim young woman, a little less tall than
-May Welland, with brown hair growing in close curls
-about her temples and held in place by a narrow band
-of diamonds.  The suggestion of this headdress, which
-gave her what was then called a "Josephine look," was
-carried out in the cut of the dark blue velvet gown
-rather theatrically caught up under her bosom by a
-girdle with a large old-fashioned clasp.  The wearer of
-this unusual dress, who seemed quite unconscious of
-the attention it was attracting, stood a moment in the
-centre of the box, discussing with Mrs. Welland the
-propriety of taking the latter's place in the front right-
-hand corner; then she yielded with a slight smile, and
-seated herself in line with Mrs. Welland's sister-in-law,
-Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who was installed in the opposite
-corner.
-
-Mr. Sillerton Jackson had returned the opera-glass to
-Lawrence Lefferts.  The whole of the club turned
-instinctively, waiting to hear what the old man had to
-say; for old Mr. Jackson was as great an authority on
-"family" as Lawrence Lefferts was on "form."  He knew
-all the ramifications of New York's cousinships; and
-could not only elucidate such complicated questions as
-that of the connection between the Mingotts (through
-the Thorleys) with the Dallases of South Carolina, and
-that of the relationship of the elder branch of Philadelphia
-Thorleys to the Albany Chiverses (on no account
-to be confused with the Manson Chiverses of University
-Place), but could also enumerate the leading characteristics
-of each family: as, for instance, the fabulous
-stinginess of the younger lines of Leffertses (the Long
-Island ones); or the fatal tendency of the Rushworths
-to make foolish matches; or the insanity recurring in
-every second generation of the Albany Chiverses, with
-whom their New York cousins had always refused to
-intermarry--with the disastrous exception of poor
-Medora Manson, who, as everybody knew . . . but
-then her mother was a Rushworth.
-
-In addition to this forest of family trees, Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson carried between his narrow hollow temples,
-and under his soft thatch of silver hair, a register of
-most of the scandals and mysteries that had smouldered
-under the unruffled surface of New York society
-within the last fifty years.  So far indeed did his
-information extend, and so acutely retentive was his
-memory, that he was supposed to be the only man who
-could have told you who Julius Beaufort, the banker,
-really was, and what had become of handsome Bob
-Spicer, old Mrs. Manson Mingott's father, who had
-disappeared so mysteriously (with a large sum of trust
-money) less than a year after his marriage, on the very
-day that a beautiful Spanish dancer who had been
-delighting thronged audiences in the old Opera-house
-on the Battery had taken ship for Cuba.  But these
-mysteries, and many others, were closely locked in Mr.
-Jackson's breast; for not only did his keen sense of
-honour forbid his repeating anything privately imparted,
-but he was fully aware that his reputation for discretion
-increased his opportunities of finding out what he
-wanted to know.
-
-The club box, therefore, waited in visible suspense
-while Mr. Sillerton Jackson handed back Lawrence
-Lefferts's opera-glass.  For a moment he silently scrutinised
-the attentive group out of his filmy blue eyes
-overhung by old veined lids; then he gave his moustache
-a thoughtful twist, and said simply:  "I didn't
-think the Mingotts would have tried it on."
-
-
-
-II.
-
-Newland Archer, during this brief episode, had
-been thrown into a strange state of embarrassment.
-
-It was annoying that the box which was thus attracting
-the undivided attention of masculine New York
-should be that in which his betrothed was seated
-between her mother and aunt; and for a moment he
-could not identify the lady in the Empire dress, nor
-imagine why her presence created such excitement among
-the initiated.  Then light dawned on him, and with it
-came a momentary rush of indignation.  No, indeed; no
-one would have thought the Mingotts would have tried
-it on!
-
-But they had; they undoubtedly had; for the low-
-toned comments behind him left no doubt in Archer's
-mind that the young woman was May Welland's cousin,
-the cousin always referred to in the family as "poor
-Ellen Olenska."  Archer knew that she had suddenly
-arrived from Europe a day or two previously; he had
-even heard from Miss Welland (not disapprovingly)
-that she had been to see poor Ellen, who was staying
-with old Mrs. Mingott.  Archer entirely approved of
-family solidarity, and one of the qualities he most
-admired in the Mingotts was their resolute championship
-of the few black sheep that their blameless stock
-had produced.  There was nothing mean or ungenerous
-in the young man's heart, and he was glad that his
-future wife should not be restrained by false prudery
-from being kind (in private) to her unhappy cousin; but
-to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a
-different thing from producing her in public, at the
-Opera of all places, and in the very box with the young
-girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer, was
-to be announced within a few weeks.  No, he felt as old
-Sillerton Jackson felt; he did not think the Mingotts
-would have tried it on!
-
-He knew, of course, that whatever man dared (within
-Fifth Avenue's limits) that old Mrs. Manson Mingott,
-the Matriarch of the line, would dare.  He had always
-admired the high and mighty old lady, who, in spite of
-having been only Catherine Spicer of Staten Island,
-with a father mysteriously discredited, and neither money
-nor position enough to make people forget it, had
-allied herself with the head of the wealthy Mingott line,
-married two of her daughters to "foreigners" (an Italian
-marquis and an English banker), and put the crowning
-touch to her audacities by building a large house of
-pale cream-coloured stone (when brown sandstone
-seemed as much the only wear as a frock-coat in the
-afternoon) in an inaccessible wilderness near the
-Central Park.
-
-Old Mrs. Mingott's foreign daughters had become a
-legend.  They never came back to see their mother, and
-the latter being, like many persons of active mind and
-dominating will, sedentary and corpulent in her habit,
-had philosophically remained at home.  But the cream-
-coloured house (supposed to be modelled on the private
-hotels of the Parisian aristocracy) was there as a
-visible proof of her moral courage; and she throned in
-it, among pre-Revolutionary furniture and souvenirs of
-the Tuileries of Louis Napoleon (where she had shone
-in her middle age), as placidly as if there were nothing
-peculiar in living above Thirty-fourth Street, or in having
-French windows that opened like doors instead of
-sashes that pushed up.
-
-Every one (including Mr. Sillerton Jackson) was agreed
-that old Catherine had never had beauty--a gift which,
-in the eyes of New York, justified every success, and
-excused a certain number of failings.  Unkind people
-said that, like her Imperial namesake, she had won her
-way to success by strength of will and hardness of
-heart, and a kind of haughty effrontery that was somehow
-justified by the extreme decency and dignity of her
-private life.  Mr. Manson Mingott had died when she
-was only twenty-eight, and had "tied up" the money
-with an additional caution born of the general distrust
-of the Spicers; but his bold young widow went her way
-fearlessly, mingled freely in foreign society, married her
-daughters in heaven knew what corrupt and fashionable
-circles, hobnobbed with Dukes and Ambassadors,
-associated familiarly with Papists, entertained Opera
-singers, and was the intimate friend of Mme. Taglioni;
-and all the while (as Sillerton Jackson was the first to
-proclaim) there had never been a breath on her reputation;
-the only respect, he always added, in which she
-differed from the earlier Catherine.
-
-Mrs. Manson Mingott had long since succeeded in
-untying her husband's fortune, and had lived in affluence
-for half a century; but memories of her early
-straits had made her excessively thrifty, and though,
-when she bought a dress or a piece of furniture, she
-took care that it should be of the best, she could not
-bring herself to spend much on the transient pleasures
-of the table.  Therefore, for totally different reasons, her
-food was as poor as Mrs. Archer's, and her wines did
-nothing to redeem it.  Her relatives considered that the
-penury of her table discredited the Mingott name, which
-had always been associated with good living; but people
-continued to come to her in spite of the "made
-dishes" and flat champagne, and in reply to the
-remonstrances of her son Lovell (who tried to retrieve the
-family credit by having the best chef in New York) she
-used to say laughingly:  "What's the use of two good
-cooks in one family, now that I've married the girls and
-can't eat sauces?"
-
-Newland Archer, as he mused on these things, had
-once more turned his eyes toward the Mingott box.  He
-saw that Mrs. Welland and her sister-in-law were facing
-their semicircle of critics with the Mingottian APLOMB
-which old Catherine had inculcated in all her tribe, and
-that only May Welland betrayed, by a heightened colour
-(perhaps due to the knowledge that he was watching
-her) a sense of the gravity of the situation.  As for
-the cause of the commotion, she sat gracefully in her
-corner of the box, her eyes fixed on the stage, and
-revealing, as she leaned forward, a little more shoulder
-and bosom than New York was accustomed to seeing,
-at least in ladies who had reasons for wishing to pass
-unnoticed.
-
-Few things seemed to Newland Archer more awful
-than an offence against "Taste," that far-off divinity of
-whom "Form" was the mere visible representative and
-vicegerent.  Madame Olenska's pale and serious face
-appealed to his fancy as suited to the occasion and to
-her unhappy situation; but the way her dress (which
-had no tucker) sloped away from her thin shoulders
-shocked and troubled him.  He hated to think of May
-Welland's being exposed to the influence of a young
-woman so careless of the dictates of Taste.
-
-"After all," he heard one of the younger men begin
-behind him (everybody talked through the Mephistopheles-
-and-Martha scenes), "after all, just WHAT happened?"
-
-"Well--she left him; nobody attempts to deny that."
-
-"He's an awful brute, isn't he?" continued the young
-enquirer, a candid Thorley, who was evidently preparing
-to enter the lists as the lady's champion.
-
-"The very worst; I knew him at Nice," said
-Lawrence Lefferts with authority.  "A half-paralysed white
-sneering fellow--rather handsome head, but eyes with
-a lot of lashes.  Well, I'll tell you the sort: when he
-wasn't with women he was collecting china.  Paying any
-price for both, I understand."
-
-There was a general laugh, and the young champion
-said:  "Well, then----?"
-
-"Well, then; she bolted with his secretary."
-
-"Oh, I see."  The champion's face fell.
-
-"It didn't last long, though: I heard of her a few
-months later living alone in Venice.  I believe Lovell
-Mingott went out to get her.  He said she was desperately
-unhappy.  That's all right--but this parading her
-at the Opera's another thing."
-
-"Perhaps," young Thorley hazarded, "she's too
-unhappy to be left at home."
-
-This was greeted with an irreverent laugh, and the
-youth blushed deeply, and tried to look as if he had
-meant to insinuate what knowing people called a "double
-entendre."
-
-"Well--it's queer to have brought Miss Welland,
-anyhow," some one said in a low tone, with a side-
-glance at Archer.
-
-"Oh, that's part of the campaign: Granny's orders,
-no doubt," Lefferts laughed.  "When the old lady does
-a thing she does it thoroughly."
-
-The act was ending, and there was a general stir in
-the box.  Suddenly Newland Archer felt himself
-impelled to decisive action.  The desire to be the first man
-to enter Mrs. Mingott's box, to proclaim to the waiting
-world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her
-through whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous
-situation might involve her in; this impulse had abruptly
-overruled all scruples and hesitations, and sent him
-hurrying through the red corridors to the farther side
-of the house.
-
-As he entered the box his eyes met Miss Welland's,
-and he saw that she had instantly understood his motive,
-though the family dignity which both considered
-so high a virtue would not permit her to tell him so.
-The persons of their world lived in an atmosphere of
-faint implications and pale delicacies, and the fact that
-he and she understood each other without a word
-seemed to the young man to bring them nearer than
-any explanation would have done.  Her eyes said:  "You
-see why Mamma brought me," and his answered:  "I
-would not for the world have had you stay away."
-
-"You know my niece Countess Olenska?" Mrs. Welland
-enquired as she shook hands with her future son-
-in-law.  Archer bowed without extending his hand, as
-was the custom on being introduced to a lady; and
-Ellen Olenska bent her head slightly, keeping her own
-pale-gloved hands clasped on her huge fan of eagle
-feathers.  Having greeted Mrs. Lovell Mingott, a large
-blonde lady in creaking satin, he sat down beside his
-betrothed, and said in a low tone:  "I hope you've told
-Madame Olenska that we're engaged?  I want everybody
-to know--I want you to let me announce it this
-evening at the ball."
-
-Miss Welland's face grew rosy as the dawn, and she
-looked at him with radiant eyes.  "If you can persuade
-Mamma," she said; "but why should we change what
-is already settled?"  He made no answer but that which
-his eyes returned, and she added, still more confidently
-smiling:  "Tell my cousin yourself: I give you leave.  She
-says she used to play with you when you were children."
-
-She made way for him by pushing back her chair,
-and promptly, and a little ostentatiously, with the
-desire that the whole house should see what he was
-doing, Archer seated himself at the Countess Olenska's
-side.
-
-"We DID use to play together, didn't we?" she asked,
-turning her grave eyes to his.  "You were a horrid boy,
-and kissed me once behind a door; but it was your
-cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me, that
-I was in love with."  Her glance swept the horse-shoe
-curve of boxes.  "Ah, how this brings it all back to
-me--I see everybody here in knickerbockers and pantalettes,"
-she said, with her trailing slightly foreign accent,
-her eyes returning to his face.
-
-Agreeable as their expression was, the young man
-was shocked that they should reflect so unseemly a
-picture of the august tribunal before which, at that very
-moment, her case was being tried.  Nothing could be in
-worse taste than misplaced flippancy; and he answered
-somewhat stiffly:  "Yes, you have been away a very
-long time."
-
-"Oh, centuries and centuries; so long," she said,
-"that I'm sure I'm dead and buried, and this dear old
-place is heaven;" which, for reasons he could not
-define, struck Newland Archer as an even more
-disrespectful way of describing New York society.
-
-
-
-III.
-
-It invariably happened in the same way.
-
-Mrs. Julius Beaufort, on the night of her annual
-ball, never failed to appear at the Opera; indeed, she
-always gave her ball on an Opera night in order to
-emphasise her complete superiority to household cares,
-and her possession of a staff of servants competent to
-organise every detail of the entertainment in her absence.
-
-The Beauforts' house was one of the few in New
-York that possessed a ball-room (it antedated even
-Mrs. Manson Mingott's and the Headly Chiverses');
-and at a time when it was beginning to be thought
-"provincial" to put a "crash" over the drawing-room
-floor and move the furniture upstairs, the possession of
-a ball-room that was used for no other purpose, and left
-for three-hundred-and-sixty-four days of the year to
-shuttered darkness, with its gilt chairs stacked in a
-corner and its chandelier in a bag; this undoubted
-superiority was felt to compensate for whatever was
-regrettable in the Beaufort past.
-
-Mrs. Archer, who was fond of coining her social
-philosophy into axioms, had once said:  "We all have
-our pet common people--" and though the phrase was
-a daring one, its truth was secretly admitted in many
-an exclusive bosom.  But the Beauforts were not exactly
-common; some people said they were even worse.  Mrs.
-Beaufort belonged indeed to one of America's most
-honoured families; she had been the lovely Regina Dallas
-(of the South Carolina branch), a penniless beauty
-introduced to New York society by her cousin, the
-imprudent Medora Manson, who was always doing the
-wrong thing from the right motive.  When one was
-related to the Mansons and the Rushworths one had a
-"droit de cite" (as Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who had
-frequented the Tuileries, called it) in New York society;
-but did one not forfeit it in marrying Julius Beaufort?
-
-The question was: who was Beaufort?  He passed for
-an Englishman, was agreeable, handsome, ill-tempered,
-hospitable and witty.  He had come to America with
-letters of recommendation from old Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's English son-in-law, the banker, and had speedily
-made himself an important position in the world of
-affairs; but his habits were dissipated, his tongue was
-bitter, his antecedents were mysterious; and when
-Medora Manson announced her cousin's engagement
-to him it was felt to be one more act of folly in poor
-Medora's long record of imprudences.
-
-But folly is as often justified of her children as
-wisdom, and two years after young Mrs. Beaufort's marriage
-it was admitted that she had the most distinguished
-house in New York.  No one knew exactly how the
-miracle was accomplished.  She was indolent, passive,
-the caustic even called her dull; but dressed like an
-idol, hung with pearls, growing younger and blonder
-and more beautiful each year, she throned in Mr. Beaufort's
-heavy brown-stone palace, and drew all the world
-there without lifting her jewelled little finger.  The knowing
-people said it was Beaufort himself who trained the
-servants, taught the chef new dishes, told the gardeners
-what hot-house flowers to grow for the dinner-table
-and the drawing-rooms, selected the guests, brewed the
-after-dinner punch and dictated the little notes his wife
-wrote to her friends.  If he did, these domestic activities
-were privately performed, and he presented to the world
-the appearance of a careless and hospitable millionaire
-strolling into his own drawing-room with the detachment
-of an invited guest, and saying:  "My wife's gloxinias
-are a marvel, aren't they?  I believe she gets them
-out from Kew."
-
-Mr. Beaufort's secret, people were agreed, was the
-way he carried things off.  It was all very well to whisper
-that he had been "helped" to leave England by the
-international banking-house in which he had been
-employed; he carried off that rumour as easily as the
-rest--though New York's business conscience was no
-less sensitive than its moral standard--he carried
-everything before him, and all New York into his drawing-
-rooms, and for over twenty years now people had said
-they were "going to the Beauforts'" with the same
-tone of security as if they had said they were going to
-Mrs. Manson Mingott's, and with the added satisfaction
-of knowing they would get hot canvas-back ducks
-and vintage wines, instead of tepid Veuve Clicquot
-without a year and warmed-up croquettes from Philadelphia.
-
-Mrs. Beaufort, then, had as usual appeared in her
-box just before the Jewel Song; and when, again as
-usual, she rose at the end of the third act, drew her
-opera cloak about her lovely shoulders, and disappeared,
-New York knew that meant that half an hour
-later the ball would begin.
-
-The Beaufort house was one that New Yorkers were
-proud to show to foreigners, especially on the night of
-the annual ball.  The Beauforts had been among the
-first people in New York to own their own red velvet
-carpet and have it rolled down the steps by their own
-footmen, under their own awning, instead of hiring it
-with the supper and the ball-room chairs.  They had
-also inaugurated the custom of letting the ladies take
-their cloaks off in the hall, instead of shuffling up to
-the hostess's bedroom and recurling their hair with the
-aid of the gas-burner; Beaufort was understood to have
-said that he supposed all his wife's friends had maids
-who saw to it that they were properly coiffees when
-they left home.
-
-Then the house had been boldly planned with a
-ball-room, so that, instead of squeezing through a narrow
-passage to get to it (as at the Chiverses') one
-marched solemnly down a vista of enfiladed drawing-
-rooms (the sea-green, the crimson and the bouton d'or),
-seeing from afar the many-candled lustres reflected in
-the polished parquetry, and beyond that the depths of a
-conservatory where camellias and tree-ferns arched their
-costly foliage over seats of black and gold bamboo.
-
-Newland Archer, as became a young man of his
-position, strolled in somewhat late.  He had left his
-overcoat with the silk-stockinged footmen (the stockings
-were one of Beaufort's few fatuities), had dawdled
-a while in the library hung with Spanish leather and
-furnished with Buhl and malachite, where a few men
-were chatting and putting on their dancing-gloves, and
-had finally joined the line of guests whom Mrs. Beaufort
-was receiving on the threshold of the crimson
-drawing-room.
-
-Archer was distinctly nervous.  He had not gone back
-to his club after the Opera (as the young bloods usually
-did), but, the night being fine, had walked for some
-distance up Fifth Avenue before turning back in the
-direction of the Beauforts' house.  He was definitely
-afraid that the Mingotts might be going too far; that,
-in fact, they might have Granny Mingott's orders to
-bring the Countess Olenska to the ball.
-
-From the tone of the club box he had perceived how
-grave a mistake that would be; and, though he was
-more than ever determined to "see the thing through,"
-he felt less chivalrously eager to champion his betrothed's
-cousin than before their brief talk at the Opera.
-
-Wandering on to the bouton d'or drawing-room
-(where Beaufort had had the audacity to hang "Love
-Victorious," the much-discussed nude of Bouguereau)
-Archer found Mrs. Welland and her daughter standing
-near the ball-room door.  Couples were already gliding
-over the floor beyond: the light of the wax candles fell
-on revolving tulle skirts, on girlish heads wreathed with
-modest blossoms, on the dashing aigrettes and ornaments
-of the young married women's coiffures, and on
-the glitter of highly glazed shirt-fronts and fresh glace
-gloves.
-
-Miss Welland, evidently about to join the dancers,
-hung on the threshold, her lilies-of-the-valley in her
-hand (she carried no other bouquet), her face a little
-pale, her eyes burning with a candid excitement.  A
-group of young men and girls were gathered about her,
-and there was much hand-clasping, laughing and pleasantry
-on which Mrs. Welland, standing slightly apart,
-shed the beam of a qualified approval.  It was evident
-that Miss Welland was in the act of announcing her
-engagement, while her mother affected the air of parental
-reluctance considered suitable to the occasion.
-
-Archer paused a moment.  It was at his express wish
-that the announcement had been made, and yet it was
-not thus that he would have wished to have his happiness
-known.  To proclaim it in the heat and noise of a
-crowded ball-room was to rob it of the fine bloom of
-privacy which should belong to things nearest the heart.
-His joy was so deep that this blurring of the surface left
-its essence untouched; but he would have liked to keep
-the surface pure too.  It was something of a satisfaction
-to find that May Welland shared this feeling.  Her eyes
-fled to his beseechingly, and their look said:  "Remember,
-we're doing this because it's right."
-
-No appeal could have found a more immediate response
-in Archer's breast; but he wished that the necessity
-of their action had been represented by some ideal
-reason, and not simply by poor Ellen Olenska.  The
-group about Miss Welland made way for him with
-significant smiles, and after taking his share of the
-felicitations he drew his betrothed into the middle of
-the ball-room floor and put his arm about her waist.
-
-"Now we shan't have to talk," he said, smiling into
-her candid eyes, as they floated away on the soft waves
-of the Blue Danube.
-
-She made no answer.  Her lips trembled into a smile,
-but the eyes remained distant and serious, as if bent on
-some ineffable vision.  "Dear," Archer whispered, pressing
-her to him: it was borne in on him that the first
-hours of being engaged, even if spent in a ball-room,
-had in them something grave and sacramental.  What a
-new life it was going to be, with this whiteness,
-radiance, goodness at one's side!
-
-The dance over, the two, as became an affianced
-couple, wandered into the conservatory; and sitting
-behind a tall screen of tree-ferns and camellias Newland
-pressed her gloved hand to his lips.
-
-"You see I did as you asked me to," she said.
-
-"Yes: I couldn't wait," he answered smiling.  After a
-moment he added:  "Only I wish it hadn't had to be at
-a ball."
-
-"Yes, I know."  She met his glance comprehendingly.
-"But after all--even here we're alone together, aren't
-we?"
-
-"Oh, dearest--always!" Archer cried.
-
-Evidently she was always going to understand; she
-was always going to say the right thing.  The discovery
-made the cup of his bliss overflow, and he went on
-gaily:  "The worst of it is that I want to kiss you and I
-can't."  As he spoke he took a swift glance about the
-conservatory, assured himself of their momentary privacy,
-and catching her to him laid a fugitive pressure
-on her lips.  To counteract the audacity of this proceeding
-he led her to a bamboo sofa in a less secluded part
-of the conservatory, and sitting down beside her broke
-a lily-of-the-valley from her bouquet.  She sat silent, and
-the world lay like a sunlit valley at their feet.
-
-"Did you tell my cousin Ellen?" she asked presently,
-as if she spoke through a dream.
-
-He roused himself, and remembered that he had not
-done so.  Some invincible repugnance to speak of such
-things to the strange foreign woman had checked the
-words on his lips.
-
-"No--I hadn't the chance after all," he said, fibbing
-hastily.
-
-"Ah."  She looked disappointed, but gently resolved
-on gaining her point.  "You must, then, for I didn't
-either; and I shouldn't like her to think--"
-
-"Of course not.  But aren't you, after all, the person
-to do it?"
-
-She pondered on this.  "If I'd done it at the right
-time, yes: but now that there's been a delay I think you
-must explain that I'd asked you to tell her at the
-Opera, before our speaking about it to everybody here.
-Otherwise she might think I had forgotten her.  You
-see, she's one of the family, and she's been away so
-long that she's rather--sensitive."
-
-Archer looked at her glowingly.  "Dear and great
-angel!  Of course I'll tell her."  He glanced a trifle
-apprehensively toward the crowded ball-room.  "But I haven't
-seen her yet.  Has she come?"
-
-"No; at the last minute she decided not to."
-
-"At the last minute?" he echoed, betraying his
-surprise that she should ever have considered the alternative
-possible.
-
-"Yes.  She's awfully fond of dancing," the young girl
-answered simply.  "But suddenly she made up her mind
-that her dress wasn't smart enough for a ball, though
-we thought it so lovely; and so my aunt had to take her
-home."
-
-"Oh, well--" said Archer with happy indifference.
-Nothing about his betrothed pleased him more than
-her resolute determination to carry to its utmost limit
-that ritual of ignoring the "unpleasant" in which they
-had both been brought up.
-
-"She knows as well as I do," he reflected, "the real
-reason of her cousin's staying away; but I shall never
-let her see by the least sign that I am conscious of there
-being a shadow of a shade on poor Ellen Olenska's
-reputation."
-
-
-
-IV.
-
-In the course of the next day the first of the usual
-betrothal visits were exchanged.  The New York
-ritual was precise and inflexible in such matters; and in
-conformity with it Newland Archer first went with his
-mother and sister to call on Mrs. Welland, after which
-he and Mrs. Welland and May drove out to old Mrs.
-Manson Mingott's to receive that venerable ancestress's
-blessing.
-
-A visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott was always an
-amusing episode to the young man.  The house in itself
-was already an historic document, though not, of course,
-as venerable as certain other old family houses in
-University Place and lower Fifth Avenue.  Those were of
-the purest 1830, with a grim harmony of cabbage-
-rose-garlanded carpets, rosewood consoles, round-arched
-fire-places with black marble mantels, and immense
-glazed book-cases of mahogany; whereas old Mrs.
-Mingott, who had built her house later, had bodily cast
-out the massive furniture of her prime, and mingled
-with the Mingott heirlooms the frivolous upholstery of
-the Second Empire.  It was her habit to sit in a window
-of her sitting-room on the ground floor, as if watching
-calmly for life and fashion to flow northward to her
-solitary doors.  She seemed in no hurry to have them
-come, for her patience was equalled by her confidence.
-She was sure that presently the hoardings, the quarries,
-the one-story saloons, the wooden green-houses in ragged
-gardens, and the rocks from which goats surveyed
-the scene, would vanish before the advance of residences
-as stately as her own--perhaps (for she was an
-impartial woman) even statelier; and that the cobble-
-stones over which the old clattering omnibuses bumped
-would be replaced by smooth asphalt, such as people
-reported having seen in Paris.  Meanwhile, as every one
-she cared to see came to HER (and she could fill her
-rooms as easily as the Beauforts, and without adding a
-single item to the menu of her suppers), she did not
-suffer from her geographic isolation.
-
-The immense accretion of flesh which had descended
-on her in middle life like a flood of lava on a doomed
-city had changed her from a plump active little woman
-with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something as
-vast and august as a natural phenomenon.  She had
-accepted this submergence as philosophically as all her
-other trials, and now, in extreme old age, was rewarded
-by presenting to her mirror an almost unwrinkled
-expanse of firm pink and white flesh, in the
-centre of which the traces of a small face survived as if
-awaiting excavation.  A flight of smooth double chins led
-down to the dizzy depths of a still-snowy bosom veiled
-in snowy muslins that were held in place by a miniature
-portrait of the late Mr. Mingott; and around and below,
-wave after wave of black silk surged away over the edges
-of a capacious armchair, with two tiny white hands poised
-like gulls on the surface of the billows.
-
-The burden of Mrs. Manson Mingott's flesh had
-long since made it impossible for her to go up and
-down stairs, and with characteristic independence she
-had made her reception rooms upstairs and established
-herself (in flagrant violation of all the New York
-proprieties) on the ground floor of her house; so that, as
-you sat in her sitting-room window with her, you caught
-(through a door that was always open, and a looped-
-back yellow damask portiere) the unexpected vista of a
-bedroom with a huge low bed upholstered like a sofa,
-and a toilet-table with frivolous lace flounces and a
-gilt-framed mirror.
-
-Her visitors were startled and fascinated by the
-foreignness of this arrangement, which recalled scenes in
-French fiction, and architectural incentives to immorality
-such as the simple American had never dreamed of.
-That was how women with lovers lived in the wicked
-old societies, in apartments with all the rooms on one
-floor, and all the indecent propinquities that their
-novels described.  It amused Newland Archer (who had
-secretly situated the love-scenes of "Monsieur de
-Camors" in Mrs. Mingott's bedroom) to picture her
-blameless life led in the stage-setting of adultery; but he
-said to himself, with considerable admiration, that if a
-lover had been what she wanted, the intrepid woman
-would have had him too.
-
-To the general relief the Countess Olenska was not
-present in her grandmother's drawing-room during the
-visit of the betrothed couple.  Mrs. Mingott said she
-had gone out; which, on a day of such glaring sunlight,
-and at the "shopping hour," seemed in itself an indelicate
-thing for a compromised woman to do.  But at any
-rate it spared them the embarrassment of her presence,
-and the faint shadow that her unhappy past might
-seem to shed on their radiant future.  The visit went off
-successfully, as was to have been expected.  Old Mrs.
-Mingott was delighted with the engagement, which,
-being long foreseen by watchful relatives, had been
-carefully passed upon in family council; and the
-engagement ring, a large thick sapphire set in invisible
-claws, met with her unqualified admiration.
-
-"It's the new setting: of course it shows the stone
-beautifully, but it looks a little bare to old-fashioned
-eyes," Mrs. Welland had explained, with a conciliatory
-side-glance at her future son-in-law.
-
-"Old-fashioned eyes?  I hope you don't mean mine,
-my dear?  I like all the novelties," said the ancestress,
-lifting the stone to her small bright orbs, which no
-glasses had ever disfigured.  "Very handsome," she added,
-returning the jewel; "very liberal.  In my time a cameo
-set in pearls was thought sufficient.  But it's the hand
-that sets off the ring, isn't it, my dear Mr. Archer?"
-and she waved one of her tiny hands, with small pointed
-nails and rolls of aged fat encircling the wrist like ivory
-bracelets.  "Mine was modelled in Rome by the great
-Ferrigiani.  You should have May's done: no doubt he'll
-have it done, my child.  Her hand is large--it's these
-modern sports that spread the joints--but the skin is
-white.--And when's the wedding to be?" she broke off,
-fixing her eyes on Archer's face.
-
-"Oh--" Mrs. Welland murmured, while the young
-man, smiling at his betrothed, replied:  "As soon as ever
-it can, if only you'll back me up, Mrs. Mingott."
-
-"We must give them time to get to know each other
-a little better, mamma," Mrs. Welland interposed, with
-the proper affectation of reluctance; to which the
-ancestress rejoined:  "Know each other?  Fiddlesticks!
-Everybody in New York has always known everybody.
-Let the young man have his way, my dear; don't wait
-till the bubble's off the wine.  Marry them before Lent;
-I may catch pneumonia any winter now, and I want to
-give the wedding-breakfast."
-
-These successive statements were received with the
-proper expressions of amusement, incredulity and gratitude;
-and the visit was breaking up in a vein of mild
-pleasantry when the door opened to admit the Countess
-Olenska, who entered in bonnet and mantle followed
-by the unexpected figure of Julius Beaufort.
-
-There was a cousinly murmur of pleasure between
-the ladies, and Mrs. Mingott held out Ferrigiani's model
-to the banker.  "Ha!  Beaufort, this is a rare favour!"
-(She had an odd foreign way of addressing men by
-their surnames.)
-
-"Thanks.  I wish it might happen oftener," said the
-visitor in his easy arrogant way.  "I'm generally so tied
-down; but I met the Countess Ellen in Madison Square,
-and she was good enough to let me walk home with
-her."
-
-"Ah--I hope the house will be gayer, now that
-Ellen's here!" cried Mrs. Mingott with a glorious
-effrontery.  "Sit down--sit down, Beaufort: push up the yellow
-armchair; now I've got you I want a good gossip.  I
-hear your ball was magnificent; and I understand you
-invited Mrs. Lemuel Struthers?  Well--I've a curiosity
-to see the woman myself."
-
-She had forgotten her relatives, who were drifting
-out into the hall under Ellen Olenska's guidance.  Old
-Mrs. Mingott had always professed a great admiration
-for Julius Beaufort, and there was a kind of kinship in
-their cool domineering way and their short-cuts through
-the conventions.  Now she was eagerly curious to know
-what had decided the Beauforts to invite (for the first
-time) Mrs. Lemuel Struthers, the widow of Struthers's
-Shoe-polish, who had returned the previous year from
-a long initiatory sojourn in Europe to lay siege to the
-tight little citadel of New York.  "Of course if you and
-Regina invite her the thing is settled.  Well, we need
-new blood and new money--and I hear she's still very
-good-looking," the carnivorous old lady declared.
-
-In the hall, while Mrs. Welland and May drew on
-their furs, Archer saw that the Countess Olenska was
-looking at him with a faintly questioning smile.
-
-"Of course you know already--about May and me,"
-he said, answering her look with a shy laugh.  "She
-scolded me for not giving you the news last night at the
-Opera: I had her orders to tell you that we were
-engaged--but I couldn't, in that crowd."
-
-The smile passed from Countess Olenska's eyes to
-her lips: she looked younger, more like the bold brown
-Ellen Mingott of his boyhood.  "Of course I know; yes.
-And I'm so glad.  But one doesn't tell such things first in
-a crowd."  The ladies were on the threshold and she
-held out her hand.
-
-"Good-bye; come and see me some day," she said,
-still looking at Archer.
-
-In the carriage, on the way down Fifth Avenue, they
-talked pointedly of Mrs. Mingott, of her age, her spirit,
-and all her wonderful attributes.  No one alluded to
-Ellen Olenska; but Archer knew that Mrs. Welland
-was thinking:  "It's a mistake for Ellen to be seen, the
-very day after her arrival, parading up Fifth Avenue at
-the crowded hour with Julius Beaufort--" and the young
-man himself mentally added:  "And she ought to know
-that a man who's just engaged doesn't spend his time
-calling on married women.  But I daresay in the set
-she's lived in they do--they never do anything else."
-And, in spite of the cosmopolitan views on which he
-prided himself, he thanked heaven that he was a New
-Yorker, and about to ally himself with one of his own
-kind.
-
-
-
-V.
-
-The next evening old Mr. Sillerton Jackson came to
-dine with the Archers.
-
-Mrs. Archer was a shy woman and shrank from
-society; but she liked to be well-informed as to its
-doings.  Her old friend Mr. Sillerton Jackson applied to
-the investigation of his friends' affairs the patience of a
-collector and the science of a naturalist; and his sister,
-Miss Sophy Jackson, who lived with him, and was
-entertained by all the people who could not secure her
-much-sought-after brother, brought home bits of minor
-gossip that filled out usefully the gaps in his picture.
-
-Therefore, whenever anything happened that Mrs.
-Archer wanted to know about, she asked Mr. Jackson
-to dine; and as she honoured few people with her
-invitations, and as she and her daughter Janey were an
-excellent audience, Mr. Jackson usually came himself
-instead of sending his sister.  If he could have dictated
-all the conditions, he would have chosen the evenings
-when Newland was out; not because the young man
-was uncongenial to him (the two got on capitally at
-their club) but because the old anecdotist sometimes
-felt, on Newland's part, a tendency to weigh his
-evidence that the ladies of the family never showed.
-
-Mr. Jackson, if perfection had been attainable on
-earth, would also have asked that Mrs. Archer's food
-should be a little better.  But then New York, as far
-back as the mind of man could travel, had been divided
-into the two great fundamental groups of the Mingotts
-and Mansons and all their clan, who cared about eating
-and clothes and money, and the Archer-Newland-
-van-der-Luyden tribe, who were devoted to travel,
-horticulture and the best fiction, and looked down on
-the grosser forms of pleasure.
-
-You couldn't have everything, after all.  If you dined
-with the Lovell Mingotts you got canvas-back and
-terrapin and vintage wines; at Adeline Archer's you
-could talk about Alpine scenery and "The Marble Faun";
-and luckily the Archer Madeira had gone round the
-Cape.  Therefore when a friendly summons came from
-Mrs. Archer, Mr. Jackson, who was a true eclectic,
-would usually say to his sister:  "I've been a little gouty
-since my last dinner at the Lovell Mingotts'--it will do
-me good to diet at Adeline's."
-
-Mrs. Archer, who had long been a widow, lived with
-her son and daughter in West Twenty-eighth Street.  An
-upper floor was dedicated to Newland, and the two
-women squeezed themselves into narrower quarters
-below.  In an unclouded harmony of tastes and interests
-they cultivated ferns in Wardian cases, made macrame
-lace and wool embroidery on linen, collected American
-revolutionary glazed ware, subscribed to "Good Words,"
-and read Ouida's novels for the sake of the Italian
-atmosphere. (They preferred those about peasant life,
-because of the descriptions of scenery and the pleasanter
-sentiments, though in general they liked novels about
-people in society, whose motives and habits were more
-comprehensible, spoke severely of Dickens, who "had
-never drawn a gentleman," and considered Thackeray
-less at home in the great world than Bulwer--who,
-however, was beginning to be thought old-fashioned.)
-Mrs. and Miss Archer were both great lovers of
-scenery.  It was what they principally sought and admired
-on their occasional travels abroad; considering
-architecture and painting as subjects for men, and chiefly
-for learned persons who read Ruskin.  Mrs. Archer had
-been born a Newland, and mother and daughter, who
-were as like as sisters, were both, as people said, "true
-Newlands"; tall, pale, and slightly round-shouldered,
-with long noses, sweet smiles and a kind of drooping
-distinction like that in certain faded Reynolds portraits.
-Their physical resemblance would have been complete
-if an elderly embonpoint had not stretched Mrs. Archer's
-black brocade, while Miss Archer's brown and
-purple poplins hung, as the years went on, more and
-more slackly on her virgin frame.
-
-Mentally, the likeness between them, as Newland
-was aware, was less complete than their identical
-mannerisms often made it appear.  The long habit of living
-together in mutually dependent intimacy had given them
-the same vocabulary, and the same habit of beginning
-their phrases "Mother thinks" or "Janey thinks,"
-according as one or the other wished to advance an
-opinion of her own; but in reality, while Mrs. Archer's
-serene unimaginativeness rested easily in the accepted
-and familiar, Janey was subject to starts and aberrations
-of fancy welling up from springs of suppressed
-romance.
-
-Mother and daughter adored each other and revered
-their son and brother; and Archer loved them with a
-tenderness made compunctious and uncritical by the
-sense of their exaggerated admiration, and by his secret
-satisfaction in it.  After all, he thought it a good thing
-for a man to have his authority respected in his own
-house, even if his sense of humour sometimes made
-him question the force of his mandate.
-
-On this occasion the young man was very sure that
-Mr. Jackson would rather have had him dine out; but
-he had his own reasons for not doing so.
-
-Of course old Jackson wanted to talk about Ellen
-Olenska, and of course Mrs. Archer and Janey wanted
-to hear what he had to tell.  All three would be slightly
-embarrassed by Newland's presence, now that his
-prospective relation to the Mingott clan had been made
-known; and the young man waited with an amused
-curiosity to see how they would turn the difficulty.
-
-They began, obliquely, by talking about Mrs. Lemuel
-Struthers.
-
-"It's a pity the Beauforts asked her," Mrs. Archer
-said gently.  "But then Regina always does what he tells
-her; and BEAUFORT--"
-
-"Certain nuances escape Beaufort," said Mr. Jackson,
-cautiously inspecting the broiled shad, and wondering
-for the thousandth time why Mrs. Archer's cook
-always burnt the roe to a cinder. (Newland, who had
-long shared his wonder, could always detect it in the
-older man's expression of melancholy disapproval.)
-
-"Oh, necessarily; Beaufort is a vulgar man," said
-Mrs. Archer.  "My grandfather Newland always used
-to say to my mother:  `Whatever you do, don't let that
-fellow Beaufort be introduced to the girls.'  But at least
-he's had the advantage of associating with gentlemen;
-in England too, they say.  It's all very mysterious--"
-She glanced at Janey and paused.  She and Janey knew
-every fold of the Beaufort mystery, but in public Mrs.
-Archer continued to assume that the subject was not
-one for the unmarried.
-
-"But this Mrs. Struthers," Mrs. Archer continued;
-"what did you say SHE was, Sillerton?"
-
-"Out of a mine: or rather out of the saloon at the
-head of the pit.  Then with Living Wax-Works, touring
-New England.  After the police broke THAT up, they say
-she lived--"  Mr. Jackson in his turn glanced at Janey,
-whose eyes began to bulge from under her prominent
-lids.  There were still hiatuses for her in Mrs. Struthers's
-past.
-
-"Then," Mr. Jackson continued (and Archer saw he
-was wondering why no one had told the butler never to
-slice cucumbers with a steel knife), "then Lemuel Struthers
-came along.  They say his advertiser used the girl's
-head for the shoe-polish posters; her hair's intensely
-black, you know--the Egyptian style.  Anyhow, he--
-eventually--married her."  There were volumes of
-innuendo in the way the "eventually" was spaced, and
-each syllable given its due stress.
-
-"Oh, well--at the pass we've come to nowadays, it
-doesn't matter," said Mrs. Archer indifferently.  The
-ladies were not really interested in Mrs. Struthers
-just then; the subject of Ellen Olenska was too fresh
-and too absorbing to them.  Indeed, Mrs. Struthers's
-name had been introduced by Mrs. Archer only that
-she might presently be able to say:  "And Newland's
-new cousin--Countess Olenska?  Was SHE at the ball too?"
-
-There was a faint touch of sarcasm in the reference
-to her son, and Archer knew it and had expected it.
-Even Mrs. Archer, who was seldom unduly pleased
-with human events, had been altogether glad of her
-son's engagement. ("Especially after that silly business
-with Mrs. Rushworth," as she had remarked to Janey,
-alluding to what had once seemed to Newland a tragedy
-of which his soul would always bear the scar.)
-
-There was no better match in New York than May
-Welland, look at the question from whatever point you
-chose.  Of course such a marriage was only what
-Newland was entitled to; but young men are so foolish
-and incalculable--and some women so ensnaring and
-unscrupulous--that it was nothing short of a miracle to
-see one's only son safe past the Siren Isle and in the
-haven of a blameless domesticity.
-
-All this Mrs. Archer felt, and her son knew she felt;
-but he knew also that she had been perturbed by the
-premature announcement of his engagement, or rather
-by its cause; and it was for that reason--because on the
-whole he was a tender and indulgent master--that he
-had stayed at home that evening.  "It's not that I don't
-approve of the Mingotts' esprit de corps; but why
-Newland's engagement should be mixed up with that
-Olenska woman's comings and goings I don't see,"
-Mrs. Archer grumbled to Janey, the only witness of her
-slight lapses from perfect sweetness.
-
-She had behaved beautifully--and in beautiful
-behaviour she was unsurpassed--during the call on Mrs.
-Welland; but Newland knew (and his betrothed doubtless
-guessed) that all through the visit she and Janey
-were nervously on the watch for Madame Olenska's
-possible intrusion; and when they left the house
-together she had permitted herself to say to her son:  "I'm
-thankful that Augusta Welland received us alone."
-
-These indications of inward disturbance moved Archer
-the more that he too felt that the Mingotts had gone a
-little too far.  But, as it was against all the rules of their
-code that the mother and son should ever allude to
-what was uppermost in their thoughts, he simply replied:
-"Oh, well, there's always a phase of family parties
-to be gone through when one gets engaged, and the
-sooner it's over the better."  At which his mother merely
-pursed her lips under the lace veil that hung down from
-her grey velvet bonnet trimmed with frosted grapes.
-
-Her revenge, he felt--her lawful revenge--would be
-to "draw" Mr. Jackson that evening on the Countess
-Olenska; and, having publicly done his duty as a future
-member of the Mingott clan, the young man had no
-objection to hearing the lady discussed in private--except
-that the subject was already beginning to bore him.
-
-Mr. Jackson had helped himself to a slice of the tepid
-filet which the mournful butler had handed him with a
-look as sceptical as his own, and had rejected the
-mushroom sauce after a scarcely perceptible sniff.  He
-looked baffled and hungry, and Archer reflected that
-he would probably finish his meal on Ellen Olenska.
-
-Mr. Jackson leaned back in his chair, and glanced up
-at the candlelit Archers, Newlands and van der Luydens
-hanging in dark frames on the dark walls.
-
-"Ah, how your grandfather Archer loved a good
-dinner, my dear Newland!" he said, his eyes on the
-portrait of a plump full-chested young man in a stock
-and a blue coat, with a view of a white-columned
-country-house behind him.  "Well--well--well . . . I
-wonder what he would have said to all these foreign
-marriages!"
-
-Mrs. Archer ignored the allusion to the ancestral
-cuisine and Mr. Jackson continued with deliberation:
-"No, she was NOT at the ball."
-
-"Ah--" Mrs. Archer murmured, in a tone that
-implied:  "She had that decency."
-
-"Perhaps the Beauforts don't know her," Janey
-suggested, with her artless malice.
-
-Mr. Jackson gave a faint sip, as if he had been
-tasting invisible Madeira.  "Mrs. Beaufort may not--but
-Beaufort certainly does, for she was seen walking up
-Fifth Avenue this afternoon with him by the whole of
-New York."
-
-"Mercy--" moaned Mrs. Archer, evidently perceiving
-the uselessness of trying to ascribe the actions of
-foreigners to a sense of delicacy.
-
-"I wonder if she wears a round hat or a bonnet in
-the afternoon," Janey speculated.  "At the Opera I know
-she had on dark blue velvet, perfectly plain and flat--
-like a night-gown."
-
-"Janey!" said her mother; and Miss Archer blushed
-and tried to look audacious.
-
-"It was, at any rate, in better taste not to go to the
-ball," Mrs. Archer continued.
-
-A spirit of perversity moved her son to rejoin:  "I
-don't think it was a question of taste with her.  May
-said she meant to go, and then decided that the dress in
-question wasn't smart enough."
-
-Mrs. Archer smiled at this confirmation of her
-inference.  "Poor Ellen," she simply remarked; adding
-compassionately:  "We must always bear in mind what an
-eccentric bringing-up Medora Manson gave her.  What
-can you expect of a girl who was allowed to wear
-black satin at her coming-out ball?"
-
-"Ah--don't I remember her in it!" said Mr. Jackson;
-adding:  "Poor girl!" in the tone of one who, while
-enjoying the memory, had fully understood at the time
-what the sight portended.
-
-"It's odd," Janey remarked, "that she should have
-kept such an ugly name as Ellen.  I should have changed
-it to Elaine."  She glanced about the table to see the
-effect of this.
-
-Her brother laughed.  "Why Elaine?"
-
-"I don't know; it sounds more--more Polish," said
-Janey, blushing.
-
-"It sounds more conspicuous; and that can hardly be
-what she wishes," said Mrs. Archer distantly.
-
-"Why not?" broke in her son, growing suddenly
-argumentative.  "Why shouldn't she be conspicuous if
-she chooses?  Why should she slink about as if it were
-she who had disgraced herself?  She's `poor Ellen'
-certainly, because she had the bad luck to make a wretched
-marriage; but I don't see that that's a reason for hiding
-her head as if she were the culprit."
-
-"That, I suppose," said Mr. Jackson, speculatively,
-"is the line the Mingotts mean to take."
-
-The young man reddened.  "I didn't have to wait for
-their cue, if that's what you mean, sir.  Madame Olenska
-has had an unhappy life: that doesn't make her an
-outcast."
-
-"There are rumours," began Mr. Jackson, glancing
-at Janey.
-
-"Oh, I know: the secretary," the young man took
-him up.  "Nonsense, mother; Janey's grown-up.  They
-say, don't they," he went on, "that the secretary helped
-her to get away from her brute of a husband, who kept
-her practically a prisoner?  Well, what if he did?  I hope
-there isn't a man among us who wouldn't have done
-the same in such a case."
-
-Mr. Jackson glanced over his shoulder to say to the
-sad butler:  "Perhaps . . . that sauce . . . just a little,
-after all--"; then, having helped himself, he remarked:
-"I'm told she's looking for a house.  She means to live
-here."
-
-"I hear she means to get a divorce," said Janey
-boldly.
-
-"I hope she will!" Archer exclaimed.
-
-The word had fallen like a bombshell in the pure and
-tranquil atmosphere of the Archer dining-room.  Mrs.
-Archer raised her delicate eye-brows in the particular
-curve that signified:  "The butler--" and the young
-man, himself mindful of the bad taste of discussing
-such intimate matters in public, hastily branched off
-into an account of his visit to old Mrs. Mingott.
-
-After dinner, according to immemorial custom, Mrs.
-Archer and Janey trailed their long silk draperies up to
-the drawing-room, where, while the gentlemen smoked
-below stairs, they sat beside a Carcel lamp with an
-engraved globe, facing each other across a rosewood
-work-table with a green silk bag under it, and stitched
-at the two ends of a tapestry band of field-flowers
-destined to adorn an "occasional" chair in the drawing-
-room of young Mrs. Newland Archer.
-
-While this rite was in progress in the drawing-room,
-Archer settled Mr. Jackson in an armchair near the fire
-in the Gothic library and handed him a cigar.  Mr.
-Jackson sank into the armchair with satisfaction, lit his
-cigar with perfect confidence (it was Newland who
-bought them), and stretching his thin old ankles to the
-coals, said:  "You say the secretary merely helped her to
-get away, my dear fellow?  Well, he was still helping her
-a year later, then; for somebody met 'em living at
-Lausanne together."
-
-Newland reddened.  "Living together?  Well, why not?
-Who had the right to make her life over if she hadn't?
-I'm sick of the hypocrisy that would bury alive a woman
-of her age if her husband prefers to live with harlots."
-
-He stopped and turned away angrily to light his
-cigar.  "Women ought to be free--as free as we are," he
-declared, making a discovery of which he was too
-irritated to measure the terrific consequences.
-
-Mr. Sillerton Jackson stretched his ankles nearer the
-coals and emitted a sardonic whistle.
-
-"Well," he said after a pause, "apparently Count
-Olenski takes your view; for I never heard of his having
-lifted a finger to get his wife back."
-
-
-
-VI.
-
-That evening, after Mr. Jackson had taken himself
-away, and the ladies had retired to their chintz-
-curtained bedroom, Newland Archer mounted thoughtfully
-to his own study.  A vigilant hand had, as usual,
-kept the fire alive and the lamp trimmed; and the
-room, with its rows and rows of books, its bronze and
-steel statuettes of "The Fencers" on the mantelpiece
-and its many photographs of famous pictures, looked
-singularly home-like and welcoming.
-
-As he dropped into his armchair near the fire his eyes
-rested on a large photograph of May Welland, which
-the young girl had given him in the first days of their
-romance, and which had now displaced all the other
-portraits on the table.  With a new sense of awe he
-looked at the frank forehead, serious eyes and gay
-innocent mouth of the young creature whose soul's
-custodian he was to be.  That terrifying product of the
-social system he belonged to and believed in, the young
-girl who knew nothing and expected everything, looked
-back at him like a stranger through May Welland's
-familiar features; and once more it was borne in on
-him that marriage was not the safe anchorage he had
-been taught to think, but a voyage on uncharted seas.
-
-The case of the Countess Olenska had stirred up old
-settled convictions and set them drifting dangerously
-through his mind.  His own exclamation:  "Women should
-be free--as free as we are," struck to the root of a
-problem that it was agreed in his world to regard as
-non-existent.  "Nice" women, however wronged, would
-never claim the kind of freedom he meant, and generous-
-minded men like himself were therefore--in the heat of
-argument--the more chivalrously ready to concede it
-to them.  Such verbal generosities were in fact only a
-humbugging disguise of the inexorable conventions that
-tied things together and bound people down to the old
-pattern.  But here he was pledged to defend, on the part
-of his betrothed's cousin, conduct that, on his own
-wife's part, would justify him in calling down on her
-all the thunders of Church and State.  Of course the
-dilemma was purely hypothetical; since he wasn't a
-blackguard Polish nobleman, it was absurd to speculate
-what his wife's rights would be if he WERE.  But Newland
-Archer was too imaginative not to feel that, in his case
-and May's, the tie might gall for reasons far less gross
-and palpable.  What could he and she really know of
-each other, since it was his duty, as a "decent" fellow,
-to conceal his past from her, and hers, as a marriageable
-girl, to have no past to conceal?  What if, for some
-one of the subtler reasons that would tell with both of
-them, they should tire of each other, misunderstand or
-irritate each other?  He reviewed his friends' marriages--
-the supposedly happy ones--and saw none that
-answered, even remotely, to the passionate and tender
-comradeship which he pictured as his permanent relation
-with May Welland.  He perceived that such a picture
-presupposed, on her part, the experience, the
-versatility, the freedom of judgment, which she had
-been carefully trained not to possess; and with a shiver
-of foreboding he saw his marriage becoming what most
-of the other marriages about him were: a dull association
-of material and social interests held together by
-ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other.
-Lawrence Lefferts occurred to him as the husband who
-had most completely realised this enviable ideal.  As
-became the high-priest of form, he had formed a wife
-so completely to his own convenience that, in the most
-conspicuous moments of his frequent love-affairs with
-other men's wives, she went about in smiling
-unconsciousness, saying that "Lawrence was so frightfully
-strict"; and had been known to blush indignantly, and
-avert her gaze, when some one alluded in her presence
-to the fact that Julius Beaufort (as became a "foreigner"
-of doubtful origin) had what was known in
-New York as "another establishment."
-
-Archer tried to console himself with the thought that
-he was not quite such an ass as Larry Lefferts, nor May
-such a simpleton as poor Gertrude; but the difference
-was after all one of intelligence and not of standards.
-In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world,
-where the real thing was never said or done or even
-thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary
-signs; as when Mrs. Welland, who knew exactly why
-Archer had pressed her to announce her daughter's
-engagement at the Beaufort ball (and had indeed
-expected him to do no less), yet felt obliged to simulate
-reluctance, and the air of having had her hand forced,
-quite as, in the books on Primitive Man that people of
-advanced culture were beginning to read, the savage
-bride is dragged with shrieks from her parents' tent.
-
-The result, of course, was that the young girl who
-was the centre of this elaborate system of mystification
-remained the more inscrutable for her very frankness
-and assurance.  She was frank, poor darling, because
-she had nothing to conceal, assured because she knew
-of nothing to be on her guard against; and with no
-better preparation than this, she was to be plunged
-overnight into what people evasively called "the facts
-of life."
-
-The young man was sincerely but placidly in love.
-He delighted in the radiant good looks of his betrothed,
-in her health, her horsemanship, her grace and quickness
-at games, and the shy interest in books and ideas
-that she was beginning to develop under his guidance.
-(She had advanced far enough to join him in ridiculing
-the Idyls of the King, but not to feel the beauty of
-Ulysses and the Lotus Eaters.) She was straightforward,
-loyal and brave; she had a sense of humour (chiefly
-proved by her laughing at HIS jokes); and he suspected,
-in the depths of her innocently-gazing soul, a glow of
-feeling that it would be a joy to waken.  But when he
-had gone the brief round of her he returned discouraged
-by the thought that all this frankness and innocence
-were only an artificial product.  Untrained human
-nature was not frank and innocent; it was full of the
-twists and defences of an instinctive guile.  And he felt
-himself oppressed by this creation of factitious purity,
-so cunningly manufactured by a conspiracy of mothers
-and aunts and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses,
-because it was supposed to be what he wanted, what
-he had a right to, in order that he might exercise his
-lordly pleasure in smashing it like an image made of
-snow.
-
-There was a certain triteness in these reflections: they
-were those habitual to young men on the approach of
-their wedding day.  But they were generally accompanied
-by a sense of compunction and self-abasement of
-which Newland Archer felt no trace.  He could not
-deplore (as Thackeray's heroes so often exasperated
-him by doing) that he had not a blank page to offer his
-bride in exchange for the unblemished one she was to
-give to him.  He could not get away from the fact that if
-he had been brought up as she had they would have
-been no more fit to find their way about than the Babes
-in the Wood; nor could he, for all his anxious cogitations,
-see any honest reason (any, that is, unconnected
-with his own momentary pleasure, and the passion of
-masculine vanity) why his bride should not have been
-allowed the same freedom of experience as himself.
-
-Such questions, at such an hour, were bound to drift
-through his mind; but he was conscious that their
-uncomfortable persistence and precision were due to
-the inopportune arrival of the Countess Olenska.  Here
-he was, at the very moment of his betrothal--a moment
-for pure thoughts and cloudless hopes--pitchforked
-into a coil of scandal which raised all the special problems
-he would have preferred to let lie.  "Hang Ellen
-Olenska!" he grumbled, as he covered his fire and
-began to undress.  He could not really see why her fate
-should have the least bearing on his; yet he dimly felt
-that he had only just begun to measure the risks of the
-championship which his engagement had forced upon
-him.
-
-
-A few days later the bolt fell.
-
-The Lovell Mingotts had sent out cards for what was
-known as "a formal dinner" (that is, three extra footmen,
-two dishes for each course, and a Roman punch
-in the middle), and had headed their invitations with
-the words "To meet the Countess Olenska," in accordance
-with the hospitable American fashion, which
-treats strangers as if they were royalties, or at least as
-their ambassadors.
-
-The guests had been selected with a boldness and
-discrimination in which the initiated recognised the
-firm hand of Catherine the Great.  Associated with such
-immemorial standbys as the Selfridge Merrys, who were
-asked everywhere because they always had been, the
-Beauforts, on whom there was a claim of relationship,
-and Mr. Sillerton Jackson and his sister Sophy (who
-went wherever her brother told her to), were some of
-the most fashionable and yet most irreproachable of
-the dominant "young married" set; the Lawrence
-Leffertses, Mrs. Lefferts Rushworth (the lovely widow),
-the Harry Thorleys, the Reggie Chiverses and young
-Morris Dagonet and his wife (who was a van der
-Luyden).  The company indeed was perfectly assorted,
-since all the members belonged to the little inner group
-of people who, during the long New York season,
-disported themselves together daily and nightly with
-apparently undiminished zest.
-
-Forty-eight hours later the unbelievable had
-happened; every one had refused the Mingotts' invitation
-except the Beauforts and old Mr. Jackson and his sister.
-The intended slight was emphasised by the fact that
-even the Reggie Chiverses, who were of the Mingott
-clan, were among those inflicting it; and by the
-uniform wording of the notes, in all of which the writers
-"regretted that they were unable to accept," without
-the mitigating plea of a "previous engagement" that
-ordinary courtesy prescribed.
-
-New York society was, in those days, far too small,
-and too scant in its resources, for every one in it
-(including livery-stable-keepers, butlers and cooks) not
-to know exactly on which evenings people were free;
-and it was thus possible for the recipients of Mrs.
-Lovell Mingott's invitations to make cruelly clear their
-determination not to meet the Countess Olenska.
-
-The blow was unexpected; but the Mingotts, as their
-way was, met it gallantly.  Mrs. Lovell Mingott
-confided the case to Mrs. Welland, who confided it to
-Newland Archer; who, aflame at the outrage, appealed
-passionately and authoritatively to his mother; who,
-after a painful period of inward resistance and outward
-temporising, succumbed to his instances (as she always
-did), and immediately embracing his cause with an
-energy redoubled by her previous hesitations, put on
-her grey velvet bonnet and said:  "I'll go and see Louisa
-van der Luyden."
-
-The New York of Newland Archer's day was a small
-and slippery pyramid, in which, as yet, hardly a fissure
-had been made or a foothold gained.  At its base was a
-firm foundation of what Mrs. Archer called "plain
-people"; an honourable but obscure majority of
-respectable families who (as in the case of the Spicers or
-the Leffertses or the Jacksons) had been raised above
-their level by marriage with one of the ruling clans.
-People, Mrs. Archer always said, were not as particular
-as they used to be; and with old Catherine Spicer ruling
-one end of Fifth Avenue, and Julius Beaufort the other,
-you couldn't expect the old traditions to last much
-longer.
-
-Firmly narrowing upward from this wealthy but
-inconspicuous substratum was the compact and dominant
-group which the Mingotts, Newlands, Chiverses
-and Mansons so actively represented.  Most people imagined
-them to be the very apex of the pyramid; but they
-themselves (at least those of Mrs. Archer's generation)
-were aware that, in the eyes of the professional genealogist,
-only a still smaller number of families could lay
-claim to that eminence.
-
-"Don't tell me," Mrs. Archer would say to her
-children, "all this modern newspaper rubbish about a New
-York aristocracy.  If there is one, neither the Mingotts
-nor the Mansons belong to it; no, nor the Newlands or
-the Chiverses either.  Our grandfathers and great-
-grandfathers were just respectable English or Dutch
-merchants, who came to the colonies to make their
-fortune, and stayed here because they did so well.  One
-of your great-grandfathers signed the Declaration, and
-another was a general on Washington's staff, and
-received General Burgoyne's sword after the battle of
-Saratoga.  These are things to be proud of, but they
-have nothing to do with rank or class.  New York has
-always been a commercial community, and there are
-not more than three families in it who can claim an
-aristocratic origin in the real sense of the word."
-
-Mrs. Archer and her son and daughter, like every
-one else in New York, knew who these privileged beings
-were: the Dagonets of Washington Square, who came
-of an old English county family allied with the Pitts
-and Foxes; the Lannings, who had intermarried with
-the descendants of Count de Grasse, and the van der
-Luydens, direct descendants of the first Dutch governor
-of Manhattan, and related by pre-revolutionary
-marriages to several members of the French and British
-aristocracy.
-
-The Lannings survived only in the person of two
-very old but lively Miss Lannings, who lived cheerfully
-and reminiscently among family portraits and Chippendale;
-the Dagonets were a considerable clan, allied to
-the best names in Baltimore and Philadelphia; but the
-van der Luydens, who stood above all of them, had
-faded into a kind of super-terrestrial twilight, from
-which only two figures impressively emerged; those of
-Mr. and Mrs. Henry van der Luyden.
-
-Mrs. Henry van der Luyden had been Louisa Dagonet,
-and her mother had been the granddaughter of Colonel
-du Lac, of an old Channel Island family, who had
-fought under Cornwallis and had settled in Maryland,
-after the war, with his bride, Lady Angelica Trevenna,
-fifth daughter of the Earl of St. Austrey.  The tie
-between the Dagonets, the du Lacs of Maryland, and
-their aristocratic Cornish kinsfolk, the Trevennas, had
-always remained close and cordial.  Mr. and Mrs. van
-der Luyden had more than once paid long visits to the
-present head of the house of Trevenna, the Duke of St.
-Austrey, at his country-seat in Cornwall and at St.
-Austrey in Gloucestershire; and his Grace had frequently
-announced his intention of some day returning their
-visit (without the Duchess, who feared the Atlantic).
-
-Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden divided their time
-between Trevenna, their place in Maryland, and Skuytercliff,
-the great estate on the Hudson which had been one
-of the colonial grants of the Dutch government to the
-famous first Governor, and of which Mr. van der Luyden
-was still "Patroon."  Their large solemn house in Madison
-Avenue was seldom opened, and when they came to town
-they received in it only their most intimate friends.
-
-"I wish you would go with me, Newland," his mother
-said, suddenly pausing at the door of the Brown
-coupe.  "Louisa is fond of you; and of course it's on
-account of dear May that I'm taking this step--and
-also because, if we don't all stand together, there'll be
-no such thing as Society left."
-
-
-
-VII.
-
-Mrs. Henry van der Luyden listened in silence to
-her cousin Mrs. Archer's narrative.
-
-It was all very well to tell yourself in advance that
-Mrs. van der Luyden was always silent, and that, though
-non-committal by nature and training, she was very
-kind to the people she really liked.  Even personal
-experience of these facts was not always a protection from
-the chill that descended on one in the high-ceilinged
-white-walled Madison Avenue drawing-room, with the
-pale brocaded armchairs so obviously uncovered for
-the occasion, and the gauze still veiling the ormolu
-mantel ornaments and the beautiful old carved frame
-of Gainsborough's "Lady Angelica du Lac."
-
-Mrs. van der Luyden's portrait by Huntington (in
-black velvet and Venetian point) faced that of her
-lovely ancestress.  It was generally considered "as fine
-as a Cabanel," and, though twenty years had elapsed
-since its execution, was still "a perfect likeness."
-Indeed the Mrs. van der Luyden who sat beneath it
-listening to Mrs. Archer might have been the twin-sister
-of the fair and still youngish woman drooping against a
-gilt armchair before a green rep curtain.  Mrs. van der
-Luyden still wore black velvet and Venetian point when
-she went into society--or rather (since she never dined
-out) when she threw open her own doors to receive it.
-Her fair hair, which had faded without turning grey,
-was still parted in flat overlapping points on her forehead,
-and the straight nose that divided her pale blue
-eyes was only a little more pinched about the nostrils
-than when the portrait had been painted.  She always,
-indeed, struck Newland Archer as having been rather
-gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of a
-perfectly irreproachable existence, as bodies caught in
-glaciers keep for years a rosy life-in-death.
-
-Like all his family, he esteemed and admired Mrs.
-van der Luyden; but he found her gentle bending sweetness
-less approachable than the grimness of some of his
-mother's old aunts, fierce spinsters who said "No" on
-principle before they knew what they were going to be
-asked.
-
-Mrs. van der Luyden's attitude said neither yes nor
-no, but always appeared to incline to clemency till her
-thin lips, wavering into the shadow of a smile, made
-the almost invariable reply:  "I shall first have to talk
-this over with my husband."
-
-She and Mr. van der Luyden were so exactly alike
-that Archer often wondered how, after forty years of
-the closest conjugality, two such merged identities ever
-separated themselves enough for anything as controversial
-as a talking-over.  But as neither had ever reached a
-decision without prefacing it by this mysterious
-conclave, Mrs. Archer and her son, having set forth their
-case, waited resignedly for the familiar phrase.
-
-Mrs. van der Luyden, however, who had seldom
-surprised any one, now surprised them by reaching her
-long hand toward the bell-rope.
-
-"I think," she said, "I should like Henry to hear
-what you have told me."
-
-A footman appeared, to whom she gravely added:
-"If Mr. van der Luyden has finished reading the
-newspaper, please ask him to be kind enough to come."
-
-She said "reading the newspaper" in the tone in
-which a Minister's wife might have said:  "Presiding at
-a Cabinet meeting"--not from any arrogance of mind,
-but because the habit of a life-time, and the attitude of
-her friends and relations, had led her to consider Mr.
-van der Luyden's least gesture as having an almost
-sacerdotal importance.
-
-Her promptness of action showed that she considered
-the case as pressing as Mrs. Archer; but, lest she
-should be thought to have committed herself in advance,
-she added, with the sweetest look:  "Henry always
-enjoys seeing you, dear Adeline; and he will wish
-to congratulate Newland."
-
-The double doors had solemnly reopened and between
-them appeared Mr. Henry van der Luyden, tall,
-spare and frock-coated, with faded fair hair, a straight
-nose like his wife's and the same look of frozen gentleness
-in eyes that were merely pale grey instead of pale
-blue.
-
-Mr. van der Luyden greeted Mrs. Archer with cousinly
-affability, proffered to Newland low-voiced
-congratulations couched in the same language as his wife's,
-and seated himself in one of the brocade armchairs
-with the simplicity of a reigning sovereign.
-
-"I had just finished reading the Times," he said,
-laying his long finger-tips together.  "In town my mornings
-are so much occupied that I find it more convenient
-to read the newspapers after luncheon."
-
-"Ah, there's a great deal to be said for that plan--
-indeed I think my uncle Egmont used to say he found it
-less agitating not to read the morning papers till after
-dinner," said Mrs. Archer responsively.
-
-"Yes: my good father abhorred hurry.  But now we
-live in a constant rush," said Mr. van der Luyden in
-measured tones, looking with pleasant deliberation about
-the large shrouded room which to Archer was so complete
-an image of its owners.
-
-"But I hope you HAD finished your reading, Henry?"
-his wife interposed.
-
-"Quite--quite," he reassured her.
-
-"Then I should like Adeline to tell you--"
-
-"Oh, it's really Newland's story," said his mother
-smiling; and proceeded to rehearse once more the monstrous
-tale of the affront inflicted on Mrs. Lovell Mingott.
-
-"Of course," she ended, "Augusta Welland and Mary
-Mingott both felt that, especially in view of Newland's
-engagement, you and Henry OUGHT TO KNOW."
-
-"Ah--" said Mr. van der Luyden, drawing a deep
-breath.
-
-There was a silence during which the tick of the
-monumental ormolu clock on the white marble mantelpiece
-grew as loud as the boom of a minute-gun.  Archer
-contemplated with awe the two slender faded figures,
-seated side by side in a kind of viceregal rigidity,
-mouthpieces of some remote ancestral authority which fate
-compelled them to wield, when they would so much
-rather have lived in simplicity and seclusion, digging
-invisible weeds out of the perfect lawns of Skuytercliff,
-and playing Patience together in the evenings.
-
-Mr. van der Luyden was the first to speak.
-
-"You really think this is due to some--some
-intentional interference of Lawrence Lefferts's?" he enquired,
-turning to Archer.
-
-"I'm certain of it, sir.  Larry has been going it rather
-harder than usual lately--if cousin Louisa won't mind
-my mentioning it--having rather a stiff affair with the
-postmaster's wife in their village, or some one of that
-sort; and whenever poor Gertrude Lefferts begins to
-suspect anything, and he's afraid of trouble, he gets up
-a fuss of this kind, to show how awfully moral he is,
-and talks at the top of his voice about the impertinence
-of inviting his wife to meet people he doesn't wish her
-to know.  He's simply using Madame Olenska as a
-lightning-rod; I've seen him try the same thing often
-before."
-
-"The LEFFERTSES!--" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
-
-"The LEFFERTSES!--" echoed Mrs. Archer.  "What would
-uncle Egmont have said of Lawrence Lefferts's
-pronouncing on anybody's social position?  It shows what
-Society has come to."
-
-"We'll hope it has not quite come to that," said Mr.
-van der Luyden firmly.
-
-"Ah, if only you and Louisa went out more!" sighed
-Mrs. Archer.
-
-But instantly she became aware of her mistake.  The
-van der Luydens were morbidly sensitive to any criticism
-of their secluded existence.  They were the arbiters
-of fashion, the Court of last Appeal, and they knew it,
-and bowed to their fate.  But being shy and retiring
-persons, with no natural inclination for their part, they
-lived as much as possible in the sylvan solitude of
-Skuytercliff, and when they came to town, declined all
-invitations on the plea of Mrs. van der Luyden's health.
-
-Newland Archer came to his mother's rescue.
-"Everybody in New York knows what you and cousin
-Louisa represent.  That's why Mrs. Mingott felt she
-ought not to allow this slight on Countess Olenska to
-pass without consulting you."
-
-Mrs. van der Luyden glanced at her husband, who
-glanced back at her.
-
-"It is the principle that I dislike," said Mr. van der
-Luyden.  "As long as a member of a well-known family
-is backed up by that family it should be considered--
-final."
-
-"It seems so to me," said his wife, as if she were
-producing a new thought.
-
-"I had no idea," Mr. van der Luyden continued,
-"that things had come to such a pass."  He paused, and
-looked at his wife again.  "It occurs to me, my dear,
-that the Countess Olenska is already a sort of relation--
-through Medora Manson's first husband.  At any rate,
-she will be when Newland marries."  He turned toward
-the young man.  "Have you read this morning's Times,
-Newland?"
-
-"Why, yes, sir," said Archer, who usually tossed off
-half a dozen papers with his morning coffee.
-
-Husband and wife looked at each other again.  Their
-pale eyes clung together in prolonged and serious
-consultation; then a faint smile fluttered over Mrs. van der
-Luyden's face.  She had evidently guessed and approved.
-
-Mr. van der Luyden turned to Mrs. Archer.  "If Louisa's
-health allowed her to dine out--I wish you would
-say to Mrs. Lovell Mingott--she and I would have
-been happy to--er--fill the places of the Lawrence
-Leffertses at her dinner."  He paused to let the irony of
-this sink in.  "As you know, this is impossible."  Mrs.
-Archer sounded a sympathetic assent.  "But Newland
-tells me he has read this morning's Times; therefore he
-has probably seen that Louisa's relative, the Duke of
-St. Austrey, arrives next week on the Russia.  He is
-coming to enter his new sloop, the Guinevere, in next
-summer's International Cup Race; and also to have a
-little canvasback shooting at Trevenna."  Mr. van der
-Luyden paused again, and continued with increasing
-benevolence:  "Before taking him down to Maryland
-we are inviting a few friends to meet him here--only a
-little dinner--with a reception afterward.  I am sure
-Louisa will be as glad as I am if Countess Olenska will
-let us include her among our guests."  He got up, bent
-his long body with a stiff friendliness toward his cousin,
-and added:  "I think I have Louisa's authority for saying
-that she will herself leave the invitation to dine
-when she drives out presently: with our cards--of course
-with our cards."
-
-Mrs. Archer, who knew this to be a hint that the
-seventeen-hand chestnuts which were never kept waiting
-were at the door, rose with a hurried murmur of
-thanks.  Mrs. van der Luyden beamed on her with the
-smile of Esther interceding with Ahasuerus; but her
-husband raised a protesting hand.
-
-"There is nothing to thank me for, dear Adeline;
-nothing whatever.  This kind of thing must not happen
-in New York; it shall not, as long as I can help it," he
-pronounced with sovereign gentleness as he steered his
-cousins to the door.
-
-Two hours later, every one knew that the great
-C-spring barouche in which Mrs. van der Luyden
-took the air at all seasons had been seen at old
-Mrs. Mingott's door, where a large square envelope
-was handed in; and that evening at the Opera Mr.
-Sillerton Jackson was able to state that the envelope
-contained a card inviting the Countess Olenska
-to the dinner which the van der Luydens were giving
-the following week for their cousin, the Duke
-of St. Austrey.
-
-Some of the younger men in the club box exchanged
-a smile at this announcement, and glanced sideways at
-Lawrence Lefferts, who sat carelessly in the front of the
-box, pulling his long fair moustache, and who remarked
-with authority, as the soprano paused:  "No one but
-Patti ought to attempt the Sonnambula."
-
-
-
-VIII.
-
-It was generally agreed in New York that the Countess
-Olenska had "lost her looks."
-
-She had appeared there first, in Newland Archer's
-boyhood, as a brilliantly pretty little girl of nine or ten,
-of whom people said that she "ought to be painted."
-Her parents had been continental wanderers, and after
-a roaming babyhood she had lost them both, and been
-taken in charge by her aunt, Medora Manson, also a
-wanderer, who was herself returning to New York to
-"settle down."
-
-Poor Medora, repeatedly widowed, was always coming
-home to settle down (each time in a less expensive
-house), and bringing with her a new husband or an
-adopted child; but after a few months she invariably
-parted from her husband or quarrelled with her ward,
-and, having got rid of her house at a loss, set out again
-on her wanderings.  As her mother had been a Rushworth,
-and her last unhappy marriage had linked her
-to one of the crazy Chiverses, New York looked indulgently
-on her eccentricities; but when she returned with
-her little orphaned niece, whose parents had been popular
-in spite of their regrettable taste for travel, people thought
-it a pity that the pretty child should be in such hands.
-
-Every one was disposed to be kind to little Ellen
-Mingott, though her dusky red cheeks and tight curls
-gave her an air of gaiety that seemed unsuitable in a
-child who should still have been in black for her
-parents.  It was one of the misguided Medora's many
-peculiarities to flout the unalterable rules that regulated
-American mourning, and when she stepped from the
-steamer her family were scandalised to see that the
-crape veil she wore for her own brother was seven
-inches shorter than those of her sisters-in-law, while
-little Ellen was in crimson merino and amber beads,
-like a gipsy foundling.
-
-But New York had so long resigned itself to Medora
-that only a few old ladies shook their heads over Ellen's
-gaudy clothes, while her other relations fell under
-the charm of her high colour and high spirits.  She was
-a fearless and familiar little thing, who asked disconcerting
-questions, made precocious comments, and possessed
-outlandish arts, such as dancing a Spanish shawl
-dance and singing Neapolitan love-songs to a guitar.
-Under the direction of her aunt (whose real name was
-Mrs. Thorley Chivers, but who, having received a Papal
-title, had resumed her first husband's patronymic,
-and called herself the Marchioness Manson, because in
-Italy she could turn it into Manzoni) the little girl
-received an expensive but incoherent education, which
-included "drawing from the model," a thing never
-dreamed of before, and playing the piano in quintets
-with professional musicians.
-
-Of course no good could come of this; and when, a
-few years later, poor Chivers finally died in a mad-
-house, his widow (draped in strange weeds) again pulled
-up stakes and departed with Ellen, who had grown into
-a tall bony girl with conspicuous eyes.  For some time
-no more was heard of them; then news came of Ellen's
-marriage to an immensely rich Polish nobleman of
-legendary fame, whom she had met at a ball at the
-Tuileries, and who was said to have princely establishments
-in Paris, Nice and Florence, a yacht at Cowes,
-and many square miles of shooting in Transylvania.
-She disappeared in a kind of sulphurous apotheosis,
-and when a few years later Medora again came back to
-New York, subdued, impoverished, mourning a third
-husband, and in quest of a still smaller house, people
-wondered that her rich niece had not been able to do
-something for her.  Then came the news that Ellen's
-own marriage had ended in disaster, and that she was
-herself returning home to seek rest and oblivion among
-her kinsfolk.
-
-These things passed through Newland Archer's mind
-a week later as he watched the Countess Olenska enter
-the van der Luyden drawing-room on the evening of
-the momentous dinner.  The occasion was a solemn
-one, and he wondered a little nervously how she would
-carry it off.  She came rather late, one hand still ungloved,
-and fastening a bracelet about her wrist; yet she entered
-without any appearance of haste or embarrassment
-the drawing-room in which New York's most
-chosen company was somewhat awfully assembled.
-
-In the middle of the room she paused, looking about
-her with a grave mouth and smiling eyes; and in that
-instant Newland Archer rejected the general verdict on
-her looks.  It was true that her early radiance was gone.
-The red cheeks had paled; she was thin, worn, a little
-older-looking than her age, which must have been nearly
-thirty.  But there was about her the mysterious authority
-of beauty, a sureness in the carriage of the head, the
-movement of the eyes, which, without being in the least
-theatrical, struck his as highly trained and full of a
-conscious power.  At the same time she was simpler in
-manner than most of the ladies present, and many
-people (as he heard afterward from Janey) were disappointed
-that her appearance was not more "stylish"
---for stylishness was what New York most valued.  It
-was, perhaps, Archer reflected, because her early vivacity
-had disappeared; because she was so quiet--quiet in
-her movements, her voice, and the tones of her low-
-pitched voice.  New York had expected something a
-good deal more reasonant in a young woman with such
-a history.
-
-The dinner was a somewhat formidable business.
-Dining with the van der Luydens was at best no light
-matter, and dining there with a Duke who was their
-cousin was almost a religious solemnity.  It pleased
-Archer to think that only an old New Yorker could
-perceive the shade of difference (to New York) between
-being merely a Duke and being the van der Luydens'
-Duke.  New York took stray noblemen calmly, and
-even (except in the Struthers set) with a certain distrustful
-hauteur; but when they presented such credentials
-as these they were received with an old-fashioned
-cordiality that they would have been greatly mistaken in
-ascribing solely to their standing in Debrett.  It was for
-just such distinctions that the young man cherished his
-old New York even while he smiled at it.
-
-The van der Luydens had done their best to emphasise
-the importance of the occasion.  The du Lac Sevres
-and the Trevenna George II plate were out; so was the
-van der Luyden "Lowestoft" (East India Company)
-and the Dagonet Crown Derby.  Mrs. van der Luyden
-looked more than ever like a Cabanel, and Mrs. Archer,
-in her grandmother's seed-pearls and emeralds, reminded
-her son of an Isabey miniature.  All the ladies had on
-their handsomest jewels, but it was characteristic of the
-house and the occasion that these were mostly in rather
-heavy old-fashioned settings; and old Miss Lanning,
-who had been persuaded to come, actually wore her
-mother's cameos and a Spanish blonde shawl.
-
-The Countess Olenska was the only young woman at
-the dinner; yet, as Archer scanned the smooth plump
-elderly faces between their diamond necklaces and
-towering ostrich feathers, they struck him as curiously
-immature compared with hers.  It frightened him to
-think what must have gone to the making of her eyes.
-
-The Duke of St. Austrey, who sat at his hostess's
-right, was naturally the chief figure of the evening.  But
-if the Countess Olenska was less conspicuous than had
-been hoped, the Duke was almost invisible.  Being a
-well-bred man he had not (like another recent ducal
-visitor) come to the dinner in a shooting-jacket; but his
-evening clothes were so shabby and baggy, and he
-wore them with such an air of their being homespun,
-that (with his stooping way of sitting, and the vast
-beard spreading over his shirt-front) he hardly gave the
-appearance of being in dinner attire.  He was short,
-round-shouldered, sunburnt, with a thick nose, small
-eyes and a sociable smile; but he seldom spoke, and
-when he did it was in such low tones that, despite the
-frequent silences of expectation about the table, his
-remarks were lost to all but his neighbours.
-
-When the men joined the ladies after dinner the
-Duke went straight up to the Countess Olenska, and
-they sat down in a corner and plunged into animated
-talk.  Neither seemed aware that the Duke should first
-have paid his respects to Mrs. Lovell Mingott and Mrs. Headly
-Chivers, and the Countess have conversed with
-that amiable hypochondriac, Mr. Urban Dagonet of
-Washington Square, who, in order to have the pleasure
-of meeting her, had broken through his fixed rule of
-not dining out between January and April.  The two
-chatted together for nearly twenty minutes; then the
-Countess rose and, walking alone across the wide
-drawing-room, sat down at Newland Archer's side.
-
-It was not the custom in New York drawing-rooms
-for a lady to get up and walk away from one gentleman
-in order to seek the company of another.  Etiquette
-required that she should wait, immovable as an idol,
-while the men who wished to converse with her succeeded
-each other at her side.  But the Countess was
-apparently unaware of having broken any rule; she sat
-at perfect ease in a corner of the sofa beside Archer,
-and looked at him with the kindest eyes.
-
-"I want you to talk to me about May," she said.
-
-Instead of answering her he asked:  "You knew the
-Duke before?"
-
-"Oh, yes--we used to see him every winter at Nice.
-He's very fond of gambling--he used to come to the
-house a great deal."  She said it in the simplest manner,
-as if she had said:  "He's fond of wild-flowers"; and
-after a moment she added candidly:  "I think he's the
-dullest man I ever met."
-
-This pleased her companion so much that he forgot
-the slight shock her previous remark had caused him.  It
-was undeniably exciting to meet a lady who found the
-van der Luydens' Duke dull, and dared to utter the
-opinion.  He longed to question her, to hear more about
-the life of which her careless words had given him so
-illuminating a glimpse; but he feared to touch on
-distressing memories, and before he could think of
-anything to say she had strayed back to her original subject.
-
-"May is a darling; I've seen no young girl in New
-York so handsome and so intelligent.  Are you very
-much in love with her?"
-
-Newland Archer reddened and laughed.  "As much as
-a man can be."
-
-She continued to consider him thoughtfully, as if not
-to miss any shade of meaning in what he said, "Do you
-think, then, there is a limit?"
-
-"To being in love?  If there is, I haven't found it!"
-
-She glowed with sympathy.  "Ah--it's really and truly
-a romance?"
-
-"The most romantic of romances!"
-
-"How delightful!  And you found it all out for
-yourselves--it was not in the least arranged for you?"
-
-Archer looked at her incredulously.  "Have you
-forgotten," he asked with a smile, "that in our country we
-don't allow our marriages to be arranged for us?"
-
-A dusky blush rose to her cheek, and he instantly
-regretted his words.
-
-"Yes," she answered, "I'd forgotten.  You must
-forgive me if I sometimes make these mistakes.  I don't
-always remember that everything here is good that
-was--that was bad where I've come from."  She looked
-down at her Viennese fan of eagle feathers, and he saw
-that her lips trembled.
-
-"I'm so sorry," he said impulsively; "but you ARE
-among friends here, you know."
-
-"Yes--I know.  Wherever I go I have that feeling.
-That's why I came home.  I want to forget everything
-else, to become a complete American again, like the
-Mingotts and Wellands, and you and your delightful
-mother, and all the other good people here tonight.  Ah,
-here's May arriving, and you will want to hurry away
-to her," she added, but without moving; and her eyes
-turned back from the door to rest on the young man's
-face.
-
-The drawing-rooms were beginning to fill up with
-after-dinner guests, and following Madame Olenska's
-glance Archer saw May Welland entering with her
-mother.  In her dress of white and silver, with a wreath
-of silver blossoms in her hair, the tall girl looked like a
-Diana just alight from the chase.
-
-"Oh," said Archer, "I have so many rivals; you see
-she's already surrounded.  There's the Duke being
-introduced."
-
-"Then stay with me a little longer," Madame Olenska
-said in a low tone, just touching his knee with her
-plumed fan.  It was the lightest touch, but it thrilled him
-like a caress.
-
-"Yes, let me stay," he answered in the same tone,
-hardly knowing what he said; but just then Mr. van
-der Luyden came up, followed by old Mr. Urban
-Dagonet.  The Countess greeted them with her grave
-smile, and Archer, feeling his host's admonitory glance
-on him, rose and surrendered his seat.
-
-Madame Olenska held out her hand as if to bid him
-goodbye.
-
-"Tomorrow, then, after five--I shall expect you,"
-she said; and then turned back to make room for Mr.
-Dagonet.
-
-"Tomorrow--" Archer heard himself repeating,
-though there had been no engagement, and during their
-talk she had given him no hint that she wished to see
-him again.
-
-As he moved away he saw Lawrence Lefferts, tall
-and resplendent, leading his wife up to be introduced;
-and heard Gertrude Lefferts say, as she beamed on the
-Countess with her large unperceiving smile:  "But I
-think we used to go to dancing-school together when
-we were children--."  Behind her, waiting their turn to
-name themselves to the Countess, Archer noticed a
-number of the recalcitrant couples who had declined to
-meet her at Mrs. Lovell Mingott's.  As Mrs. Archer
-remarked: when the van der Luydens chose, they knew
-how to give a lesson.  The wonder was that they chose
-so seldom.
-
-The young man felt a touch on his arm and saw Mrs.
-van der Luyden looking down on him from the pure
-eminence of black velvet and the family diamonds.  "It
-was good of you, dear Newland, to devote yourself so
-unselfishly to Madame Olenska.  I told your cousin
-Henry he must really come to the rescue."
-
-He was aware of smiling at her vaguely, and she
-added, as if condescending to his natural shyness:  "I've
-never seen May looking lovelier.  The Duke thinks her
-the handsomest girl in the room."
-
-
-
-IX.
-
-The Countess Olenska had said "after five"; and at
-half after the hour Newland Archer rang the bell
-of the peeling stucco house with a giant wisteria throttling
-its feeble cast-iron balcony, which she had hired,
-far down West Twenty-third Street, from the vagabond
-Medora.
-
-It was certainly a strange quarter to have settled in.
-Small dress-makers, bird-stuffers and "people who
-wrote" were her nearest neighbours; and further down
-the dishevelled street Archer recognised a dilapidated
-wooden house, at the end of a paved path, in which a
-writer and journalist called Winsett, whom he used to
-come across now and then, had mentioned that he
-lived.  Winsett did not invite people to his house; but he
-had once pointed it out to Archer in the course of a
-nocturnal stroll, and the latter had asked himself, with
-a little shiver, if the humanities were so meanly housed
-in other capitals.
-
-Madame Olenska's own dwelling was redeemed from
-the same appearance only by a little more paint about
-the window-frames; and as Archer mustered its modest
-front he said to himself that the Polish Count must
-have robbed her of her fortune as well as of her illusions.
-
-The young man had spent an unsatisfactory day.  He
-had lunched with the Wellands, hoping afterward to
-carry off May for a walk in the Park.  He wanted to
-have her to himself, to tell her how enchanting she had
-looked the night before, and how proud he was of her,
-and to press her to hasten their marriage.  But Mrs.
-Welland had firmly reminded him that the round of
-family visits was not half over, and, when he hinted at
-advancing the date of the wedding, had raised reproachful
-eye-brows and sighed out:  "Twelve dozen of
-everything--hand-embroidered--"
-
-Packed in the family landau they rolled from one
-tribal doorstep to another, and Archer, when the afternoon's
-round was over, parted from his betrothed with
-the feeling that he had been shown off like a wild
-animal cunningly trapped.  He supposed that his readings
-in anthropology caused him to take such a coarse
-view of what was after all a simple and natural
-demonstration of family feeling; but when he remembered
-that the Wellands did not expect the wedding to take
-place till the following autumn, and pictured what his
-life would be till then, a dampness fell upon his spirit.
-
-"Tomorrow," Mrs. Welland called after him, "we'll
-do the Chiverses and the Dallases"; and he perceived
-that she was going through their two families alphabetically,
-and that they were only in the first quarter of the
-alphabet.
-
-He had meant to tell May of the Countess Olenska's
-request--her command, rather--that he should call on
-her that afternoon; but in the brief moments when they
-were alone he had had more pressing things to say.
-Besides, it struck him as a little absurd to allude to the
-matter.  He knew that May most particularly wanted
-him to be kind to her cousin; was it not that wish
-which had hastened the announcement of their engagement?
-It gave him an odd sensation to reflect that, but
-for the Countess's arrival, he might have been, if not
-still a free man, at least a man less irrevocably pledged.
-But May had willed it so, and he felt himself somehow
-relieved of further responsibility--and therefore at liberty,
-if he chose, to call on her cousin without telling
-her.
-
-As he stood on Madame Olenska's threshold curiosity
-was his uppermost feeling.  He was puzzled by the
-tone in which she had summoned him; he concluded
-that she was less simple than she seemed.
-
-The door was opened by a swarthy foreign-looking
-maid, with a prominent bosom under a gay neckerchief,
-whom he vaguely fancied to be Sicilian.  She
-welcomed him with all her white teeth, and answering
-his enquiries by a head-shake of incomprehension led
-him through the narrow hall into a low firelit drawing-
-room.  The room was empty, and she left him, for an
-appreciable time, to wonder whether she had gone to
-find her mistress, or whether she had not understood
-what he was there for, and thought it might be to wind
-the clock--of which he perceived that the only visible
-specimen had stopped.  He knew that the southern races
-communicated with each other in the language of
-pantomime, and was mortified to find her shrugs and
-smiles so unintelligible.  At length she returned with a
-lamp; and Archer, having meanwhile put together a
-phrase out of Dante and Petrarch, evoked the answer:
-"La signora e fuori; ma verra subito"; which he took
-to mean:  "She's out--but you'll soon see."
-
-What he saw, meanwhile, with the help of the lamp,
-was the faded shadowy charm of a room unlike any
-room he had known.  He knew that the Countess Olenska
-had brought some of her possessions with her--bits of
-wreckage, she called them--and these, he supposed,
-were represented by some small slender tables of dark
-wood, a delicate little Greek bronze on the chimney-
-piece, and a stretch of red damask nailed on the
-discoloured wallpaper behind a couple of Italian-looking
-pictures in old frames.
-
-Newland Archer prided himself on his knowledge of
-Italian art.  His boyhood had been saturated with
-Ruskin, and he had read all the latest books: John Addington
-Symonds, Vernon Lee's "Euphorion," the essays of P.
-G. Hamerton, and a wonderful new volume called
-"The Renaissance" by Walter Pater.  He talked easily of
-Botticelli, and spoke of Fra Angelico with a faint
-condescension.  But these pictures bewildered him, for they
-were like nothing that he was accustomed to look at
-(and therefore able to see) when he travelled in Italy;
-and perhaps, also, his powers of observation were
-impaired by the oddness of finding himself in this strange
-empty house, where apparently no one expected him.
-He was sorry that he had not told May Welland of
-Countess Olenska's request, and a little disturbed by
-the thought that his betrothed might come in to see her
-cousin.  What would she think if she found him sitting
-there with the air of intimacy implied by waiting alone
-in the dusk at a lady's fireside?
-
-But since he had come he meant to wait; and he sank
-into a chair and stretched his feet to the logs.
-
-It was odd to have summoned him in that way, and
-then forgotten him; but Archer felt more curious than
-mortified.  The atmosphere of the room was so different
-from any he had ever breathed that self-consciousness
-vanished in the sense of adventure.  He had been before
-in drawing-rooms hung with red damask, with pictures
-"of the Italian school"; what struck him was the way
-in which Medora Manson's shabby hired house, with
-its blighted background of pampas grass and Rogers
-statuettes, had, by a turn of the hand, and the skilful
-use of a few properties, been transformed into something
-intimate, "foreign," subtly suggestive of old
-romantic scenes and sentiments.  He tried to analyse the
-trick, to find a clue to it in the way the chairs and
-tables were grouped, in the fact that only two Jacqueminot
-roses (of which nobody ever bought less than a
-dozen) had been placed in the slender vase at his elbow,
-and in the vague pervading perfume that was not
-what one put on handkerchiefs, but rather like the
-scent of some far-off bazaar, a smell made up of Turkish
-coffee and ambergris and dried roses.
-
-His mind wandered away to the question of what
-May's drawing-room would look like.  He knew that
-Mr. Welland, who was behaving "very handsomely,"
-already had his eye on a newly built house in East
-Thirty-ninth Street.  The neighbourhood was thought
-remote, and the house was built in a ghastly greenish-
-yellow stone that the younger architects were beginning
-to employ as a protest against the brownstone of which
-the uniform hue coated New York like a cold chocolate
-sauce; but the plumbing was perfect.  Archer would
-have liked to travel, to put off the housing question;
-but, though the Wellands approved of an extended
-European honeymoon (perhaps even a winter in Egypt),
-they were firm as to the need of a house for the
-returning couple.  The young man felt that his fate was
-sealed: for the rest of his life he would go up every
-evening between the cast-iron railings of that greenish-
-yellow doorstep, and pass through a Pompeian vestibule
-into a hall with a wainscoting of varnished yellow
-wood.  But beyond that his imagination could not travel.
-He knew the drawing-room above had a bay window,
-but he could not fancy how May would deal with it.
-She submitted cheerfully to the purple satin and yellow
-tuftings of the Welland drawing-room, to its sham Buhl
-tables and gilt vitrines full of modern Saxe.  He saw no
-reason to suppose that she would want anything different
-in her own house; and his only comfort was to
-reflect that she would probably let him arrange his
-library as he pleased--which would be, of course, with
-"sincere" Eastlake furniture, and the plain new bookcases
-without glass doors.
-
-The round-bosomed maid came in, drew the
-curtains, pushed back a log, and said consolingly:
-"Verra--verra."  When she had gone Archer stood up
-and began to wander about.  Should he wait any longer?
-His position was becoming rather foolish.  Perhaps he
-had misunderstood Madame Olenska--perhaps she had
-not invited him after all.
-
-Down the cobblestones of the quiet street came the
-ring of a stepper's hoofs; they stopped before the house,
-and he caught the opening of a carriage door.  Parting
-the curtains he looked out into the early dusk.  A street-
-lamp faced him, and in its light he saw Julius Beaufort's
-compact English brougham, drawn by a big roan,
-and the banker descending from it, and helping out
-Madame Olenska.
-
-Beaufort stood, hat in hand, saying something which
-his companion seemed to negative; then they shook
-hands, and he jumped into his carriage while she
-mounted the steps.
-
-When she entered the room she showed no surprise
-at seeing Archer there; surprise seemed the emotion
-that she was least addicted to.
-
-"How do you like my funny house?" she asked.  "To
-me it's like heaven."
-
-As she spoke she untied her little velvet bonnet and
-tossing it away with her long cloak stood looking at
-him with meditative eyes.
-
-"You've arranged it delightfully," he rejoined, alive
-to the flatness of the words, but imprisoned in the
-conventional by his consuming desire to be simple and
-striking.
-
-"Oh, it's a poor little place.  My relations despise it.
-But at any rate it's less gloomy than the van der
-Luydens'."
-
-The words gave him an electric shock, for few were
-the rebellious spirits who would have dared to call the
-stately home of the van der Luydens gloomy.  Those
-privileged to enter it shivered there, and spoke of it as
-"handsome."  But suddenly he was glad that she had
-given voice to the general shiver.
-
-"It's delicious--what you've done here," he repeated.
-
-"I like the little house," she admitted; "but I suppose
-what I like is the blessedness of its being here, in my
-own country and my own town; and then, of being
-alone in it."  She spoke so low that he hardly heard the
-last phrase; but in his awkwardness he took it up.
-
-"You like so much to be alone?"
-
-"Yes; as long as my friends keep me from feeling
-lonely."  She sat down near the fire, said:  "Nastasia will
-bring the tea presently," and signed to him to return to
-his armchair, adding:  "I see you've already chosen your
-corner."
-
-Leaning back, she folded her arms behind her head,
-and looked at the fire under drooping lids.
-
-"This is the hour I like best--don't you?"
-
-A proper sense of his dignity caused him to answer:
-"I was afraid you'd forgotten the hour.  Beaufort must
-have been very engrossing."
-
-She looked amused.  "Why--have you waited long?
-Mr. Beaufort took me to see a number of houses--
-since it seems I'm not to be allowed to stay in this
-one."  She appeared to dismiss both Beaufort and himself
-from her mind, and went on:  "I've never been in a
-city where there seems to be such a feeling against
-living in des quartiers excentriques.  What does it
-matter where one lives?  I'm told this street is respectable."
-
-"It's not fashionable."
-
-"Fashionable!  Do you all think so much of that?
-Why not make one's own fashions?  But I suppose I've
-lived too independently; at any rate, I want to do what
-you all do--I want to feel cared for and safe."
-
-He was touched, as he had been the evening before
-when she spoke of her need of guidance.
-
-"That's what your friends want you to feel.  New
-York's an awfully safe place," he added with a flash of
-sarcasm.
-
-"Yes, isn't it?  One feels that," she cried, missing the
-mockery.  "Being here is like--like--being taken on a
-holiday when one has been a good little girl and done
-all one's lessons."
-
-The analogy was well meant, but did not altogether
-please him.  He did not mind being flippant about New
-York, but disliked to hear any one else take the same
-tone.  He wondered if she did not begin to see what a
-powerful engine it was, and how nearly it had crushed
-her.  The Lovell Mingotts' dinner, patched up in extremis
-out of all sorts of social odds and ends, ought to have
-taught her the narrowness of her escape; but either she
-had been all along unaware of having skirted disaster,
-or else she had lost sight of it in the triumph of the van
-der Luyden evening.  Archer inclined to the former theory;
-he fancied that her New York was still completely
-undifferentiated, and the conjecture nettled him.
-
-"Last night," he said, "New York laid itself out for
-you.  The van der Luydens do nothing by halves."
-
-"No: how kind they are!  It was such a nice party.
-Every one seems to have such an esteem for them."
-
-The terms were hardly adequate; she might have
-spoken in that way of a tea-party at the dear old Miss
-Lannings'.
-
-"The van der Luydens," said Archer, feeling himself
-pompous as he spoke, "are the most powerful influence
-in New York society.  Unfortunately--owing to her
-health--they receive very seldom."
-
-She unclasped her hands from behind her head, and
-looked at him meditatively.
-
-"Isn't that perhaps the reason?"
-
-"The reason--?"
-
-"For their great influence; that they make themselves
-so rare."
-
-He coloured a little, stared at her--and suddenly felt
-the penetration of the remark.  At a stroke she had
-pricked the van der Luydens and they collapsed.  He
-laughed, and sacrificed them.
-
-Nastasia brought the tea, with handleless Japanese
-cups and little covered dishes, placing the tray on a low
-table.
-
-"But you'll explain these things to me--you'll tell me
-all I ought to know," Madame Olenska continued,
-leaning forward to hand him his cup.
-
-"It's you who are telling me; opening my eyes to
-things I'd looked at so long that I'd ceased to see
-them."
-
-She detached a small gold cigarette-case from one of
-her bracelets, held it out to him, and took a cigarette
-herself.  On the chimney were long spills for lighting
-them.
-
-"Ah, then we can both help each other.  But I want
-help so much more.  You must tell me just what to do."
-
-It was on the tip of his tongue to reply:  "Don't be
-seen driving about the streets with Beaufort--" but he
-was being too deeply drawn into the atmosphere of the
-room, which was her atmosphere, and to give advice of
-that sort would have been like telling some one who
-was bargaining for attar-of-roses in Samarkand that one
-should always be provided with arctics for a New York
-winter.  New York seemed much farther off than
-Samarkand, and if they were indeed to help each other
-she was rendering what might prove the first of their
-mutual services by making him look at his native city
-objectively.  Viewed thus, as through the wrong end of
-a telescope, it looked disconcertingly small and distant;
-but then from Samarkand it would.
-
-A flame darted from the logs and she bent over the
-fire, stretching her thin hands so close to it that a faint
-halo shone about the oval nails.  The light touched to
-russet the rings of dark hair escaping from her braids,
-and made her pale face paler.
-
-"There are plenty of people to tell you what to do,"
-Archer rejoined, obscurely envious of them.
-
-"Oh--all my aunts?  And my dear old Granny?"  She
-considered the idea impartially.  "They're all a little
-vexed with me for setting up for myself--poor Granny
-especially.  She wanted to keep me with her; but I had
-to be free--"  He was impressed by this light way of
-speaking of the formidable Catherine, and moved by
-the thought of what must have given Madame Olenska
-this thirst for even the loneliest kind of freedom.  But
-the idea of Beaufort gnawed him.
-
-"I think I understand how you feel," he said.  "Still,
-your family can advise you; explain differences; show
-you the way."
-
-She lifted her thin black eyebrows.  "Is New York
-such a labyrinth?  I thought it so straight up and down--
-like Fifth Avenue.  And with all the cross streets
-numbered!"  She seemed to guess his faint disapproval of
-this, and added, with the rare smile that enchanted her
-whole face:  "If you knew how I like it for just THAT--
-the straight-up-and-downness, and the big honest labels on everything!"
-
-He saw his chance.  "Everything may be labelled--
-but everybody is not."
-
-"Perhaps.  I may simplify too much--but you'll warn
-me if I do."  She turned from the fire to look at him.
-"There are only two people here who make me feel as
-if they understood what I mean and could explain
-things to me: you and Mr. Beaufort."
-
-Archer winced at the joining of the names, and then,
-with a quick readjustment, understood, sympathised
-and pitied.  So close to the powers of evil she must have
-lived that she still breathed more freely in their air.  But
-since she felt that he understood her also, his business
-would be to make her see Beaufort as he really was,
-with all he represented--and abhor it.
-
-He answered gently:  "I understand.  But just at first
-don't let go of your old friends' hands: I mean the
-older women, your Granny Mingott, Mrs. Welland,
-Mrs. van der Luyden.  They like and admire you--they
-want to help you."
-
-She shook her head and sighed.  "Oh, I know--I
-know!  But on condition that they don't hear anything
-unpleasant.  Aunt Welland put it in those very words
-when I tried. . . .  Does no one want to know the truth
-here, Mr. Archer?  The real loneliness is living among
-all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!"
-She lifted her hands to her face, and he saw her thin
-shoulders shaken by a sob.
-
-"Madame Olenska!--Oh, don't, Ellen," he cried, starting
-up and bending over her.  He drew down one of her
-hands, clasping and chafing it like a child's while he
-murmured reassuring words; but in a moment she freed
-herself, and looked up at him with wet lashes.
-
-"Does no one cry here, either?  I suppose there's no
-need to, in heaven," she said, straightening her loosened
-braids with a laugh, and bending over the tea-
-kettle.  It was burnt into his consciousness that he had
-called her "Ellen"--called her so twice; and that she
-had not noticed it.  Far down the inverted telescope he
-saw the faint white figure of May Welland--in New
-York.
-
-Suddenly Nastasia put her head in to say something
-in her rich Italian.
-
-Madame Olenska, again with a hand at her hair,
-uttered an exclamation of assent--a flashing "Gia--
-gia"--and the Duke of St. Austrey entered, piloting
-a tremendous blackwigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing furs.
-
-"My dear Countess, I've brought an old friend of
-mine to see you--Mrs. Struthers.  She wasn't asked to
-the party last night, and she wants to know you."
-
-The Duke beamed on the group, and Madame Olenska
-advanced with a murmur of welcome toward the queer
-couple.  She seemed to have no idea how oddly matched
-they were, nor what a liberty the Duke had taken in
-bringing his companion--and to do him justice, as
-Archer perceived, the Duke seemed as unaware of it
-himself.
-
-"Of course I want to know you, my dear," cried
-Mrs. Struthers in a round rolling voice that matched
-her bold feathers and her brazen wig.  "I want to know
-everybody who's young and interesting and charming.
-And the Duke tells me you like music--didn't you,
-Duke?  You're a pianist yourself, I believe?  Well, do
-you want to hear Sarasate play tomorrow evening at
-my house?  You know I've something going on every
-Sunday evening--it's the day when New York doesn't
-know what to do with itself, and so I say to it:  `Come
-and be amused.'  And the Duke thought you'd be tempted
-by Sarasate.  You'll find a number of your friends."
-
-Madame Olenska's face grew brilliant with pleasure.
-"How kind!  How good of the Duke to think of me!"
-She pushed a chair up to the tea-table and Mrs. Struthers
-sank into it delectably.  "Of course I shall be too
-happy to come."
-
-"That's all right, my dear.  And bring your young
-gentleman with you."  Mrs. Struthers extended a hail-
-fellow hand to Archer.  "I can't put a name to you--but
-I'm sure I've met you--I've met everybody, here, or in
-Paris or London.  Aren't you in diplomacy?  All the
-diplomatists come to me.  You like music too?  Duke,
-you must be sure to bring him."
-
-The Duke said "Rather" from the depths of his
-beard, and Archer withdrew with a stiffly circular bow
-that made him feel as full of spine as a self-conscious
-school-boy among careless and unnoticing elders.
-
-He was not sorry for the denouement of his visit:
-he only wished it had come sooner, and spared him a
-certain waste of emotion.  As he went out into the
-wintry night, New York again became vast and imminent,
-and May Welland the loveliest woman in it.  He
-turned into his florist's to send her the daily box of
-lilies-of-the-valley which, to his confusion, he found he
-had forgotten that morning.
-
-As he wrote a word on his card and waited for an
-envelope he glanced about the embowered shop, and
-his eye lit on a cluster of yellow roses.  He had never
-seen any as sun-golden before, and his first impulse
-was to send them to May instead of the lilies.  But they
-did not look like her--there was something too rich,
-too strong, in their fiery beauty.  In a sudden revulsion
-of mood, and almost without knowing what he did, he
-signed to the florist to lay the roses in another long
-box, and slipped his card into a second envelope, on
-which he wrote the name of the Countess Olenska;
-then, just as he was turning away, he drew the card out
-again, and left the empty envelope on the box.
-
-"They'll go at once?" he enquired, pointing to the
-roses.
-
-The florist assured him that they would.
-
-
-
-X.
-
-The next day he persuaded May to escape for a walk
-in the Park after luncheon.  As was the custom in
-old-fashioned Episcopalian New York, she usually
-accompanied her parents to church on Sunday afternoons;
-but Mrs. Welland condoned her truancy, having that
-very morning won her over to the necessity of a long
-engagement, with time to prepare a hand-embroidered
-trousseau containing the proper number of dozens.
-
-The day was delectable.  The bare vaulting of trees
-along the Mall was ceiled with lapis lazuli, and arched
-above snow that shone like splintered crystals.  It was
-the weather to call out May's radiance, and she burned
-like a young maple in the frost.  Archer was proud of
-the glances turned on her, and the simple joy of
-possessorship cleared away his underlying perplexities.
-
-"It's so delicious--waking every morning to smell
-lilies-of-the-valley in one's room!" she said.
-
-"Yesterday they came late.  I hadn't time in the
-morning--"
-
-"But your remembering each day to send them makes
-me love them so much more than if you'd given a
-standing order, and they came every morning on the
-minute, like one's music-teacher--as I know Gertrude
-Lefferts's did, for instance, when she and Lawrence
-were engaged."
-
-"Ah--they would!" laughed Archer, amused at her
-keenness.  He looked sideways at her fruit-like cheek
-and felt rich and secure enough to add:  "When I sent
-your lilies yesterday afternoon I saw some rather
-gorgeous yellow roses and packed them off to Madame
-Olenska.  Was that right?"
-
-"How dear of you!  Anything of that kind delights
-her.  It's odd she didn't mention it: she lunched with us
-today, and spoke of Mr. Beaufort's having sent her
-wonderful orchids, and cousin Henry van der Luyden a
-whole hamper of carnations from Skuytercliff.  She seems
-so surprised to receive flowers.  Don't people send them
-in Europe?  She thinks it such a pretty custom."
-
-"Oh, well, no wonder mine were overshadowed by
-Beaufort's," said Archer irritably.  Then he remembered
-that he had not put a card with the roses, and
-was vexed at having spoken of them.  He wanted to
-say:  "I called on your cousin yesterday," but hesitated.
-If Madame Olenska had not spoken of his visit it might
-seem awkward that he should.  Yet not to do so gave
-the affair an air of mystery that he disliked.  To shake
-off the question he began to talk of their own plans,
-their future, and Mrs. Welland's insistence on a long
-engagement.
-
-"If you call it long!  Isabel Chivers and Reggie were
-engaged for two years: Grace and Thorley for nearly a
-year and a half.  Why aren't we very well off as we
-are?"
-
-It was the traditional maidenly interrogation, and he
-felt ashamed of himself for finding it singularly childish.
-No doubt she simply echoed what was said for her;
-but she was nearing her twenty-second birthday, and
-he wondered at what age "nice" women began to
-speak for themselves.
-
-"Never, if we won't let them, I suppose," he mused,
-and recalled his mad outburst to Mr. Sillerton Jackson:
-"Women ought to be as free as we are--"
-
-It would presently be his task to take the bandage
-from this young woman's eyes, and bid her look forth
-on the world.  But how many generations of the women
-who had gone to her making had descended bandaged
-to the family vault?  He shivered a little, remembering
-some of the new ideas in his scientific books, and the
-much-cited instance of the Kentucky cave-fish, which
-had ceased to develop eyes because they had no use for
-them.  What if, when he had bidden May Welland to
-open hers, they could only look out blankly at blankness?
-
-"We might be much better off.  We might be
-altogether together--we might travel."
-
-Her face lit up.  "That would be lovely," she owned:
-she would love to travel.  But her mother would not
-understand their wanting to do things so differently.
-
-"As if the mere `differently' didn't account for it!"
-the wooer insisted.
-
-"Newland!  You're so original!" she exulted.
-
-His heart sank, for he saw that he was saying all the
-things that young men in the same situation were
-expected to say, and that she was making the answers
-that instinct and tradition taught her to make--even to
-the point of calling him original.
-
-"Original!  We're all as like each other as those dolls
-cut out of the same folded paper.  We're like patterns
-stencilled on a wall.  Can't you and I strike out for
-ourselves, May?"
-
-He had stopped and faced her in the excitement of
-their discussion, and her eyes rested on him with a
-bright unclouded admiration.
-
-"Mercy--shall we elope?" she laughed.
-
-"If you would--"
-
-"You DO love me, Newland!  I'm so happy."
-
-"But then--why not be happier?"
-
-"We can't behave like people in novels, though, can
-we?"
-
-"Why not--why not--why not?"
-
-She looked a little bored by his insistence.  She knew
-very well that they couldn't, but it was troublesome to
-have to produce a reason.  "I'm not clever enough to
-argue with you.  But that kind of thing is rather--vulgar,
-isn't it?" she suggested, relieved to have hit on a word
-that would assuredly extinguish the whole subject.
-
-"Are you so much afraid, then, of being vulgar?"
-
-She was evidently staggered by this.  "Of course I
-should hate it--so would you," she rejoined, a trifle
-irritably.
-
-He stood silent, beating his stick nervously against
-his boot-top; and feeling that she had indeed found the
-right way of closing the discussion, she went on light-
-heartedly:  "Oh, did I tell you that I showed Ellen my
-ring?  She thinks it the most beautiful setting she ever
-saw.  There's nothing like it in the rue de la Paix, she
-said.  I do love you, Newland, for being so artistic!"
-
-
-The next afternoon, as Archer, before dinner, sat
-smoking sullenly in his study, Janey wandered in on
-him.  He had failed to stop at his club on the way up
-from the office where he exercised the profession of the
-law in the leisurely manner common to well-to-do New
-Yorkers of his class.  He was out of spirits and slightly
-out of temper, and a haunting horror of doing the same
-thing every day at the same hour besieged his brain.
-
-"Sameness--sameness!" he muttered, the word
-running through his head like a persecuting tune as he saw
-the familiar tall-hatted figures lounging behind the plate-
-glass; and because he usually dropped in at the club at
-that hour he had gone home instead.  He knew not only
-what they were likely to be talking about, but the part
-each one would take in the discussion.  The Duke of
-course would be their principal theme; though the
-appearance in Fifth Avenue of a golden-haired lady in a
-small canary-coloured brougham with a pair of black
-cobs (for which Beaufort was generally thought
-responsible) would also doubtless be thoroughly gone
-into.  Such "women" (as they were called) were few in
-New York, those driving their own carriages still fewer,
-and the appearance of Miss Fanny Ring in Fifth Avenue
-at the fashionable hour had profoundly agitated
-society.  Only the day before, her carriage had passed
-Mrs. Lovell Mingott's, and the latter had instantly rung
-the little bell at her elbow and ordered the coachman to
-drive her home.  "What if it had happened to Mrs. van
-der Luyden?" people asked each other with a shudder.
-Archer could hear Lawrence Lefferts, at that very hour,
-holding forth on the disintegration of society.
-
-He raised his head irritably when his sister Janey
-entered, and then quickly bent over his book (Swinburne's
-"Chastelard"--just out) as if he had not seen
-her.  She glanced at the writing-table heaped with books,
-opened a volume of the "Contes Drolatiques," made
-a wry face over the archaic French, and sighed:  "What
-learned things you read!"
-
-"Well--?" he asked, as she hovered Cassandra-like
-before him.
-
-"Mother's very angry."
-
-"Angry?  With whom?  About what?"
-
-"Miss Sophy Jackson has just been here.  She brought
-word that her brother would come in after dinner: she
-couldn't say very much, because he forbade her to: he
-wishes to give all the details himself.  He's with cousin
-Louisa van der Luyden now."
-
-"For heaven's sake, my dear girl, try a fresh start.  It
-would take an omniscient Deity to know what you're
-talking about."
-
-"It's not a time to be profane, Newland. . . .  Mother
-feels badly enough about your not going to church . . ."
-
-With a groan he plunged back into his book.
-
-"NEWLAND!  Do listen.  Your friend Madame Olenska
-was at Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's party last night: she
-went there with the Duke and Mr. Beaufort."
-
-At the last clause of this announcement a senseless
-anger swelled the young man's breast.  To smother it he
-laughed.  "Well, what of it?  I knew she meant to."
-
-Janey paled and her eyes began to project.  "You
-knew she meant to--and you didn't try to stop her?  To
-warn her?"
-
-"Stop her?  Warn her?"  He laughed again.  "I'm not
-engaged to be married to the Countess Olenska!"  The
-words had a fantastic sound in his own ears.
-
-"You're marrying into her family."
-
-"Oh, family--family!" he jeered.
-
-"Newland--don't you care about Family?"
-
-"Not a brass farthing."
-
-"Nor about what cousin Louisa van der Luyden will
-think?"
-
-"Not the half of one--if she thinks such old maid's
-rubbish."
-
-"Mother is not an old maid," said his virgin sister
-with pinched lips.
-
-He felt like shouting back:  "Yes, she is, and so are
-the van der Luydens, and so we all are, when it comes
-to being so much as brushed by the wing-tip of Reality."
-But he saw her long gentle face puckering into
-tears, and felt ashamed of the useless pain he was
-inflicting.
-
-"Hang Countess Olenska!  Don't be a goose, Janey--
-I'm not her keeper."
-
-"No; but you DID ask the Wellands to announce
-your engagement sooner so that we might all back her
-up; and if it hadn't been for that cousin Louisa would
-never have invited her to the dinner for the Duke."
-
-"Well--what harm was there in inviting her?  She
-was the best-looking woman in the room; she made the
-dinner a little less funereal than the usual van der
-Luyden banquet."
-
-"You know cousin Henry asked her to please you:
-he persuaded cousin Louisa.  And now they're so upset
-that they're going back to Skuytercliff tomorrow.  I
-think, Newland, you'd better come down.  You don't
-seem to understand how mother feels."
-
-In the drawing-room Newland found his mother.  She
-raised a troubled brow from her needlework to ask:
-"Has Janey told you?"
-
-"Yes."  He tried to keep his tone as measured as her
-own.  "But I can't take it very seriously."
-
-"Not the fact of having offended cousin Louisa and
-cousin Henry?"
-
-"The fact that they can be offended by such a trifle
-as Countess Olenska's going to the house of a woman
-they consider common."
-
-"Consider--!"
-
-"Well, who is; but who has good music, and amuses
-people on Sunday evenings, when the whole of New
-York is dying of inanition."
-
-"Good music?  All I know is, there was a woman
-who got up on a table and sang the things they sing at
-the places you go to in Paris.  There was smoking and
-champagne."
-
-"Well--that kind of thing happens in other places,
-and the world still goes on."
-
-"I don't suppose, dear, you're really defending the
-French Sunday?"
-
-"I've heard you often enough, mother, grumble at
-the English Sunday when we've been in London."
-
-"New York is neither Paris nor London."
-
-"Oh, no, it's not!" her son groaned.
-
-"You mean, I suppose, that society here is not as
-brilliant?  You're right, I daresay; but we belong here,
-and people should respect our ways when they come
-among us.  Ellen Olenska especially: she came back to
-get away from the kind of life people lead in brilliant
-societies."
-
-Newland made no answer, and after a moment his
-mother ventured:  "I was going to put on my bonnet
-and ask you to take me to see cousin Louisa for a
-moment before dinner."  He frowned, and she continued:
-"I thought you might explain to her what you've
-just said: that society abroad is different . . . that people
-are not as particular, and that Madame Olenska
-may not have realised how we feel about such things.  It
-would be, you know, dear," she added with an innocent
-adroitness, "in Madame Olenska's interest if you
-did."
-
-"Dearest mother, I really don't see how we're
-concerned in the matter.  The Duke took Madame Olenska
-to Mrs. Struthers's--in fact he brought Mrs. Struthers
-to call on her.  I was there when they came.  If the van
-der Luydens want to quarrel with anybody, the real
-culprit is under their own roof."
-
-"Quarrel?  Newland, did you ever know of cousin
-Henry's quarrelling?  Besides, the Duke's his guest; and
-a stranger too.  Strangers don't discriminate: how should
-they?  Countess Olenska is a New Yorker, and should
-have respected the feelings of New York."
-
-"Well, then, if they must have a victim, you have my
-leave to throw Madame Olenska to them," cried her
-son, exasperated.  "I don't see myself--or you either--
-offering ourselves up to expiate her crimes."
-
-"Oh, of course you see only the Mingott side," his
-mother answered, in the sensitive tone that was her
-nearest approach to anger.
-
-The sad butler drew back the drawing-room
-portieres and announced:  "Mr. Henry van der Luyden."
-
-Mrs. Archer dropped her needle and pushed her
-chair back with an agitated hand.
-
-"Another lamp," she cried to the retreating servant,
-while Janey bent over to straighten her mother's cap.
-
-Mr. van der Luyden's figure loomed on the threshold,
-and Newland Archer went forward to greet his
-cousin.
-
-"We were just talking about you, sir," he said.
-
-Mr. van der Luyden seemed overwhelmed by the
-announcement.  He drew off his glove to shake hands
-with the ladies, and smoothed his tall hat shyly, while
-Janey pushed an arm-chair forward, and Archer
-continued:  "And the Countess Olenska."
-
-Mrs. Archer paled.
-
-"Ah--a charming woman.  I have just been to see
-her," said Mr. van der Luyden, complacency restored
-to his brow.  He sank into the chair, laid his hat and
-gloves on the floor beside him in the old-fashioned
-way, and went on:  "She has a real gift for arranging
-flowers.  I had sent her a few carnations from Skuytercliff,
-and I was astonished.  Instead of massing them in big
-bunches as our head-gardener does, she had scattered
-them about loosely, here and there . . . I can't say how.
-The Duke had told me: he said:  `Go and see how
-cleverly she's arranged her drawing-room.'  And she
-has.  I should really like to take Louisa to see her, if the
-neighbourhood were not so--unpleasant."
-
-A dead silence greeted this unusual flow of words
-from Mr. van der Luyden.  Mrs. Archer drew her
-embroidery out of the basket into which she had
-nervously tumbled it, and Newland, leaning against the
-chimney-place and twisting a humming-bird-feather
-screen in his hand, saw Janey's gaping countenance lit
-up by the coming of the second lamp.
-
-"The fact is," Mr. van der Luyden continued, stroking
-his long grey leg with a bloodless hand weighed
-down by the Patroon's great signet-ring, "the fact is, I
-dropped in to thank her for the very pretty note she
-wrote me about my flowers; and also--but this is
-between ourselves, of course--to give her a friendly warning
-about allowing the Duke to carry her off to parties
-with him.  I don't know if you've heard--"
-
-Mrs. Archer produced an indulgent smile.  "Has the
-Duke been carrying her off to parties?"
-
-"You know what these English grandees are.  They're
-all alike.  Louisa and I are very fond of our cousin--but
-it's hopeless to expect people who are accustomed to
-the European courts to trouble themselves about our
-little republican distinctions.  The Duke goes where he's
-amused."  Mr. van der Luyden paused, but no one
-spoke.  "Yes--it seems he took her with him last night
-to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's.  Sillerton Jackson has just
-been to us with the foolish story, and Louisa was
-rather troubled.  So I thought the shortest way was to
-go straight to Countess Olenska and explain--by the
-merest hint, you know--how we feel in New York
-about certain things.  I felt I might, without indelicacy,
-because the evening she dined with us she rather
-suggested . . . rather let me see that she would be grateful
-for guidance.  And she WAS."
-
-Mr. van der Luyden looked about the room with
-what would have been self-satisfaction on features less
-purged of the vulgar passions.  On his face it became a
-mild benevolence which Mrs. Archer's countenance
-dutifully reflected.
-
-"How kind you both are, dear Henry--always!
-Newland will particularly appreciate what you have
-done because of dear May and his new relations."
-
-She shot an admonitory glance at her son, who said:
-"Immensely, sir.  But I was sure you'd like Madame
-Olenska."
-
-Mr. van der Luyden looked at him with extreme
-gentleness.  "I never ask to my house, my dear Newland,"
-he said, "any one whom I do not like.  And so I have
-just told Sillerton Jackson."  With a glance at the clock
-he rose and added:  "But Louisa will be waiting.  We are
-dining early, to take the Duke to the Opera."
-
-After the portieres had solemnly closed behind their
-visitor a silence fell upon the Archer family.
-
-"Gracious--how romantic!" at last broke explosively
-from Janey.  No one knew exactly what inspired her
-elliptic comments, and her relations had long since
-given up trying to interpret them.
-
-Mrs. Archer shook her head with a sigh.  "Provided it
-all turns out for the best," she said, in the tone of one
-who knows how surely it will not.  "Newland, you
-must stay and see Sillerton Jackson when he comes this
-evening: I really shan't know what to say to him."
-
-"Poor mother!  But he won't come--" her son laughed,
-stooping to kiss away her frown.
-
-
-
-XI.
-
-Some two weeks later, Newland Archer, sitting in
-abstracted idleness in his private compartment of
-the office of Letterblair, Lamson and Low, attorneys at
-law, was summoned by the head of the firm.
-
-Old Mr. Letterblair, the accredited legal adviser of
-three generations of New York gentility, throned behind
-his mahogany desk in evident perplexity.  As he
-stroked his closeclipped white whiskers and ran his
-hand through the rumpled grey locks above his jutting
-brows, his disrespectful junior partner thought how
-much he looked like the Family Physician annoyed
-with a patient whose symptoms refuse to be classified.
-
-"My dear sir--" he always addressed Archer as
-"sir"--"I have sent for you to go into a little matter; a
-matter which, for the moment, I prefer not to mention
-either to Mr. Skipworth or Mr. Redwood."  The gentlemen
-he spoke of were the other senior partners of the
-firm; for, as was always the case with legal associations
-of old standing in New York, all the partners named
-on the office letter-head were long since dead; and Mr.
-Letterblair, for example, was, professionally speaking,
-his own grandson.
-
-He leaned back in his chair with a furrowed brow.
-"For family reasons--" he continued.
-
-Archer looked up.
-
-"The Mingott family," said Mr. Letterblair with an
-explanatory smile and bow.  "Mrs. Manson Mingott
-sent for me yesterday.  Her grand-daughter the Countess
-Olenska wishes to sue her husband for divorce.
-Certain papers have been placed in my hands."  He
-paused and drummed on his desk.  "In view of your
-prospective alliance with the family I should like to
-consult you--to consider the case with you--before
-taking any farther steps."
-
-Archer felt the blood in his temples.  He had seen the
-Countess Olenska only once since his visit to her, and
-then at the Opera, in the Mingott box.  During this
-interval she had become a less vivid and importunate
-image, receding from his foreground as May Welland
-resumed her rightful place in it.  He had not heard her
-divorce spoken of since Janey's first random allusion to
-it, and had dismissed the tale as unfounded gossip.
-Theoretically, the idea of divorce was almost as
-distasteful to him as to his mother; and he was annoyed
-that Mr. Letterblair (no doubt prompted by old Catherine
-Mingott) should be so evidently planning to draw
-him into the affair.  After all, there were plenty of
-Mingott men for such jobs, and as yet he was not even
-a Mingott by marriage.
-
-He waited for the senior partner to continue.  Mr.
-Letterblair unlocked a drawer and drew out a packet.
-"If you will run your eye over these papers--"
-
-Archer frowned.  "I beg your pardon, sir; but just
-because of the prospective relationship, I should prefer
-your consulting Mr. Skipworth or Mr. Redwood."
-
-Mr. Letterblair looked surprised and slightly offended.
-It was unusual for a junior to reject such an opening.
-
-He bowed.  "I respect your scruple, sir; but in this
-case I believe true delicacy requires you to do as I ask.
-Indeed, the suggestion is not mine but Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's and her son's.  I have seen Lovell Mingott;
-and also Mr. Welland.  They all named you."
-
-Archer felt his temper rising.  He had been somewhat
-languidly drifting with events for the last fortnight, and
-letting May's fair looks and radiant nature obliterate
-the rather importunate pressure of the Mingott claims.
-But this behest of old Mrs. Mingott's roused him to a
-sense of what the clan thought they had the right to
-exact from a prospective son-in-law; and he chafed at
-the role.
-
-"Her uncles ought to deal with this," he said.
-
-"They have.  The matter has been gone into by the
-family.  They are opposed to the Countess's idea; but
-she is firm, and insists on a legal opinion."
-
-The young man was silent: he had not opened the
-packet in his hand.
-
-"Does she want to marry again?"
-
-"I believe it is suggested; but she denies it."
-
-"Then--"
-
-"Will you oblige me, Mr. Archer, by first looking
-through these papers?  Afterward, when we have talked
-the case over, I will give you my opinion."
-
-Archer withdrew reluctantly with the unwelcome
-documents.  Since their last meeting he had half-unconsciously
-collaborated with events in ridding himself of the burden
-of Madame Olenska.  His hour alone with her by
-the firelight had drawn them into a momentary intimacy
-on which the Duke of St. Austrey's intrusion with
-Mrs. Lemuel Struthers, and the Countess's joyous greeting
-of them, had rather providentially broken.  Two
-days later Archer had assisted at the comedy of her
-reinstatement in the van der Luydens' favour, and had
-said to himself, with a touch of tartness, that a lady
-who knew how to thank all-powerful elderly gentlemen
-to such good purpose for a bunch of flowers did not
-need either the private consolations or the public
-championship of a young man of his small compass.  To look
-at the matter in this light simplified his own case and
-surprisingly furbished up all the dim domestic virtues.
-He could not picture May Welland, in whatever
-conceivable emergency, hawking about her private difficulties
-and lavishing her confidences on strange men; and
-she had never seemed to him finer or fairer than in the
-week that followed.  He had even yielded to her wish
-for a long engagement, since she had found the one
-disarming answer to his plea for haste.
-
-"You know, when it comes to the point, your parents
-have always let you have your way ever since you
-were a little girl," he argued; and she had answered,
-with her clearest look:  "Yes; and that's what makes it
-so hard to refuse the very last thing they'll ever ask of
-me as a little girl."
-
-That was the old New York note; that was the kind
-of answer he would like always to be sure of his wife's
-making.  If one had habitually breathed the New York
-air there were times when anything less crystalline seemed
-stifling.
-
-
-The papers he had retired to read did not tell him much
-in fact; but they plunged him into an atmosphere in
-which he choked and spluttered.  They consisted mainly
-of an exchange of letters between Count Olenski's
-solicitors and a French legal firm to whom the Countess
-had applied for the settlement of her financial
-situation.  There was also a short letter from the Count to
-his wife: after reading it, Newland Archer rose, jammed
-the papers back into their envelope, and reentered Mr.
-Letterblair's office.
-
-"Here are the letters, sir.  If you wish, I'll see
-Madame Olenska," he said in a constrained voice.
-
-"Thank you--thank you, Mr. Archer.  Come and
-dine with me tonight if you're free, and we'll go into
-the matter afterward: in case you wish to call on our
-client tomorrow."
-
-Newland Archer walked straight home again that
-afternoon.  It was a winter evening of transparent clearness,
-with an innocent young moon above the house-
-tops; and he wanted to fill his soul's lungs with the
-pure radiance, and not exchange a word with any one
-till he and Mr. Letterblair were closeted together after
-dinner.  It was impossible to decide otherwise than he
-had done: he must see Madame Olenska himself rather
-than let her secrets be bared to other eyes.  A great
-wave of compassion had swept away his indifference
-and impatience: she stood before him as an exposed
-and pitiful figure, to be saved at all costs from farther
-wounding herself in her mad plunges against fate.
-
-He remembered what she had told him of Mrs.
-Welland's request to be spared whatever was "unpleasant"
-in her history, and winced at the thought that it was
-perhaps this attitude of mind which kept the New York
-air so pure.  "Are we only Pharisees after all?" he
-wondered, puzzled by the effort to reconcile his instinctive
-disgust at human vileness with his equally instinctive
-pity for human frailty.
-
-For the first time he perceived how elementary his
-own principles had always been.  He passed for a young
-man who had not been afraid of risks, and he knew
-that his secret love-affair with poor silly Mrs. Thorley
-Rushworth had not been too secret to invest him with
-a becoming air of adventure.  But Mrs. Rushworth was
-"that kind of woman"; foolish, vain, clandestine by
-nature, and far more attracted by the secrecy and peril
-of the affair than by such charms and qualities as he
-possessed.  When the fact dawned on him it nearly
-broke his heart, but now it seemed the redeeming feature
-of the case.  The affair, in short, had been of the
-kind that most of the young men of his age had been
-through, and emerged from with calm consciences and
-an undisturbed belief in the abysmal distinction between
-the women one loved and respected and those
-one enjoyed--and pitied.  In this view they were
-sedulously abetted by their mothers, aunts and other elderly
-female relatives, who all shared Mrs. Archer's belief
-that when "such things happened" it was undoubtedly
-foolish of the man, but somehow always criminal of
-the woman.  All the elderly ladies whom Archer knew
-regarded any woman who loved imprudently as necessarily
-unscrupulous and designing, and mere simple-
-minded man as powerless in her clutches.  The only
-thing to do was to persuade him, as early as possible, to
-marry a nice girl, and then trust to her to look after him.
-
-In the complicated old European communities, Archer
-began to guess, love-problems might be less simple and
-less easily classified.  Rich and idle and ornamental
-societies must produce many more such situations; and
-there might even be one in which a woman naturally
-sensitive and aloof would yet, from the force of
-circumstances, from sheer defencelessness and loneliness, be
-drawn into a tie inexcusable by conventional standards.
-
-On reaching home he wrote a line to the Countess
-Olenska, asking at what hour of the next day she could
-receive him, and despatched it by a messenger-boy,
-who returned presently with a word to the effect that
-she was going to Skuytercliff the next morning to stay
-over Sunday with the van der Luydens, but that he
-would find her alone that evening after dinner.  The
-note was written on a rather untidy half-sheet, without
-date or address, but her hand was firm and free.  He
-was amused at the idea of her week-ending in the
-stately solitude of Skuytercliff, but immediately afterward
-felt that there, of all places, she would most feel
-the chill of minds rigorously averted from the "unpleasant."
-
-
-He was at Mr. Letterblair's punctually at seven, glad
-of the pretext for excusing himself soon after dinner.
-He had formed his own opinion from the papers entrusted
-to him, and did not especially want to go into
-the matter with his senior partner.  Mr. Letterblair was
-a widower, and they dined alone, copiously and slowly,
-in a dark shabby room hung with yellowing prints of
-"The Death of Chatham" and "The Coronation of
-Napoleon."  On the sideboard, between fluted Sheraton
-knife-cases, stood a decanter of Haut Brion, and another
-of the old Lanning port (the gift of a client),
-which the wastrel Tom Lanning had sold off a year or
-two before his mysterious and discreditable death in
-San Francisco--an incident less publicly humiliating to
-the family than the sale of the cellar.
-
-After a velvety oyster soup came shad and cucumbers,
-then a young broiled turkey with corn fritters,
-followed by a canvas-back with currant jelly and a
-celery mayonnaise.  Mr. Letterblair, who lunched on a
-sandwich and tea, dined deliberately and deeply, and
-insisted on his guest's doing the same.  Finally, when
-the closing rites had been accomplished, the cloth was
-removed, cigars were lit, and Mr. Letterblair, leaning
-back in his chair and pushing the port westward, said,
-spreading his back agreeably to the coal fire behind
-him:  "The whole family are against a divorce.  And I
-think rightly."
-
-Archer instantly felt himself on the other side of the
-argument.  "But why, sir?  If there ever was a case--"
-
-"Well--what's the use?  SHE'S here--he's there; the
-Atlantic's between them.  She'll never get back a dollar
-more of her money than what he's voluntarily returned
-to her: their damned heathen marriage settlements take
-precious good care of that.  As things go over there,
-Olenski's acted generously: he might have turned her
-out without a penny."
-
-The young man knew this and was silent.
-
-"I understand, though," Mr. Letterblair continued,
-"that she attaches no importance to the money.  Therefore,
-as the family say, why not let well enough alone?"
-
-Archer had gone to the house an hour earlier in full
-agreement with Mr. Letterblair's view; but put into
-words by this selfish, well-fed and supremely indifferent
-old man it suddenly became the Pharisaic voice of a
-society wholly absorbed in barricading itself against the
-unpleasant.
-
-"I think that's for her to decide."
-
-"H'm--have you considered the consequences if she
-decides for divorce?"
-
-"You mean the threat in her husband's letter?  What
-weight would that carry?  It's no more than the vague
-charge of an angry blackguard."
-
-"Yes; but it might make some unpleasant talk if he
-really defends the suit."
-
-"Unpleasant--!" said Archer explosively.
-
-Mr. Letterblair looked at him from under enquiring
-eyebrows, and the young man, aware of the uselessness
-of trying to explain what was in his mind, bowed
-acquiescently while his senior continued:  "Divorce is
-always unpleasant."
-
-"You agree with me?" Mr. Letterblair resumed, after
-a waiting silence.
-
-"Naturally," said Archer.
-
-"Well, then, I may count on you; the Mingotts may
-count on you; to use your influence against the idea?"
-
-Archer hesitated.  "I can't pledge myself till I've seen
-the Countess Olenska," he said at length.
-
-"Mr. Archer, I don't understand you.  Do you want
-to marry into a family with a scandalous divorce-suit
-hanging over it?"
-
-"I don't think that has anything to do with the
-case."
-
-Mr. Letterblair put down his glass of port and fixed
-on his young partner a cautious and apprehensive gaze.
-
-Archer understood that he ran the risk of having his
-mandate withdrawn, and for some obscure reason he
-disliked the prospect.  Now that the job had been thrust
-on him he did not propose to relinquish it; and, to
-guard against the possibility, he saw that he must reassure
-the unimaginative old man who was the legal
-conscience of the Mingotts.
-
-"You may be sure, sir, that I shan't commit myself
-till I've reported to you; what I meant was that I'd
-rather not give an opinion till I've heard what Madame
-Olenska has to say."
-
-Mr. Letterblair nodded approvingly at an excess of
-caution worthy of the best New York tradition, and
-the young man, glancing at his watch, pleaded an
-engagement and took leave.
-
-
-
-XII.
-
-Old-fashioned New York dined at seven, and the
-habit of after-dinner calls, though derided in Archer's
-set, still generally prevailed.  As the young man
-strolled up Fifth Avenue from Waverley Place, the long
-thoroughfare was deserted but for a group of carriages
-standing before the Reggie Chiverses' (where there was
-a dinner for the Duke), and the occasional figure of an
-elderly gentleman in heavy overcoat and muffler
-ascending a brownstone doorstep and disappearing into a
-gas-lit hall.  Thus, as Archer crossed Washington Square,
-he remarked that old Mr. du Lac was calling on his
-cousins the Dagonets, and turning down the corner of
-West Tenth Street he saw Mr. Skipworth, of his own
-firm, obviously bound on a visit to the Miss Lannings.
-A little farther up Fifth Avenue, Beaufort appeared on
-his doorstep, darkly projected against a blaze of light,
-descended to his private brougham, and rolled away to
-a mysterious and probably unmentionable destination.
-It was not an Opera night, and no one was giving a
-party, so that Beaufort's outing was undoubtedly of a
-clandestine nature.  Archer connected it in his mind
-with a little house beyond Lexington Avenue in which
-beribboned window curtains and flower-boxes had
-recently appeared, and before whose newly painted door
-the canary-coloured brougham of Miss Fanny Ring
-was frequently seen to wait.
-
-Beyond the small and slippery pyramid which
-composed Mrs. Archer's world lay the almost unmapped
-quarter inhabited by artists, musicians and "people
-who wrote."  These scattered fragments of humanity
-had never shown any desire to be amalgamated with
-the social structure.  In spite of odd ways they were said
-to be, for the most part, quite respectable; but they
-preferred to keep to themselves.  Medora Manson, in
-her prosperous days, had inaugurated a "literary
-salon"; but it had soon died out owing to the reluctance
-of the literary to frequent it.
-
-Others had made the same attempt, and there was a
-household of Blenkers--an intense and voluble mother,
-and three blowsy daughters who imitated her--where
-one met Edwin Booth and Patti and William Winter,
-and the new Shakespearian actor George Rignold, and
-some of the magazine editors and musical and literary
-critics.
-
-Mrs. Archer and her group felt a certain timidity
-concerning these persons.  They were odd, they were
-uncertain, they had things one didn't know about in
-the background of their lives and minds.  Literature and
-art were deeply respected in the Archer set, and Mrs.
-Archer was always at pains to tell her children how
-much more agreeable and cultivated society had been
-when it included such figures as Washington Irving,
-Fitz-Greene Halleck and the poet of "The Culprit Fay."
-The most celebrated authors of that generation had
-been "gentlemen"; perhaps the unknown persons who
-succeeded them had gentlemanly sentiments, but their
-origin, their appearance, their hair, their intimacy with
-the stage and the Opera, made any old New York
-criterion inapplicable to them.
-
-"When I was a girl," Mrs. Archer used to say, "we
-knew everybody between the Battery and Canal Street;
-and only the people one knew had carriages.  It was
-perfectly easy to place any one then; now one can't tell,
-and I prefer not to try."
-
-Only old Catherine Mingott, with her absence of
-moral prejudices and almost parvenu indifference to
-the subtler distinctions, might have bridged the abyss;
-but she had never opened a book or looked at a
-picture, and cared for music only because it reminded her
-of gala nights at the Italiens, in the days of her triumph
-at the Tuileries.  Possibly Beaufort, who was her match
-in daring, would have succeeded in bringing about a
-fusion; but his grand house and silk-stockinged footmen
-were an obstacle to informal sociability.  Moreover,
-he was as illiterate as old Mrs. Mingott, and
-considered "fellows who wrote" as the mere paid
-purveyors of rich men's pleasures; and no one rich enough
-to influence his opinion had ever questioned it.
-
-Newland Archer had been aware of these things ever
-since he could remember, and had accepted them as
-part of the structure of his universe.  He knew that
-there were societies where painters and poets and
-novelists and men of science, and even great actors, were
-as sought after as Dukes; he had often pictured to
-himself what it would have been to live in the intimacy
-of drawing-rooms dominated by the talk of Merimee
-(whose "Lettres a une Inconnue" was one of his
-inseparables), of Thackeray, Browning or William Morris.
-But such things were inconceivable in New York, and
-unsettling to think of.  Archer knew most of the
-"fellows who wrote," the musicians and the painters: he
-met them at the Century, or at the little musical and
-theatrical clubs that were beginning to come into
-existence.  He enjoyed them there, and was bored with
-them at the Blenkers', where they were mingled with
-fervid and dowdy women who passed them about like
-captured curiosities; and even after his most exciting
-talks with Ned Winsett he always came away with the
-feeling that if his world was small, so was theirs, and
-that the only way to enlarge either was to reach a stage
-of manners where they would naturally merge.
-
-He was reminded of this by trying to picture the
-society in which the Countess Olenska had lived and
-suffered, and also--perhaps--tasted mysterious joys.
-He remembered with what amusement she had told
-him that her grandmother Mingott and the Wellands
-objected to her living in a "Bohemian" quarter given
-over to "people who wrote."  It was not the peril but
-the poverty that her family disliked; but that shade
-escaped her, and she supposed they considered
-literature compromising.
-
-She herself had no fears of it, and the books
-scattered about her drawing-room (a part of the house in
-which books were usually supposed to be "out of place"),
-though chiefly works of fiction, had whetted Archer's
-interest with such new names as those of Paul Bourget,
-Huysmans, and the Goncourt brothers.  Ruminating on
-these things as he approached her door, he was once
-more conscious of the curious way in which she
-reversed his values, and of the need of thinking himself
-into conditions incredibly different from any that he
-knew if he were to be of use in her present difficulty.
-
-
-Nastasia opened the door, smiling mysteriously.  On
-the bench in the hall lay a sable-lined overcoat, a
-folded opera hat of dull silk with a gold J. B. on the
-lining, and a white silk muffler: there was no mistaking
-the fact that these costly articles were the property of
-Julius Beaufort.
-
-Archer was angry: so angry that he came near scribbling
-a word on his card and going away; then he
-remembered that in writing to Madame Olenska he
-had been kept by excess of discretion from saying that
-he wished to see her privately.  He had therefore no one
-but himself to blame if she had opened her doors to
-other visitors; and he entered the drawing-room with
-the dogged determination to make Beaufort feel himself
-in the way, and to outstay him.
-
-The banker stood leaning against the mantelshelf,
-which was draped with an old embroidery held in place
-by brass candelabra containing church candies of
-yellowish wax.  He had thrust his chest out, supporting his
-shoulders against the mantel and resting his weight on
-one large patent-leather foot.  As Archer entered he was
-smiling and looking down on his hostess, who sat on a
-sofa placed at right angles to the chimney.  A table
-banked with flowers formed a screen behind it, and
-against the orchids and azaleas which the young man
-recognised as tributes from the Beaufort hot-houses,
-Madame Olenska sat half-reclined, her head propped
-on a hand and her wide sleeve leaving the arm bare to
-the elbow.
-
-It was usual for ladies who received in the evenings
-to wear what were called "simple dinner dresses": a
-close-fitting armour of whale-boned silk, slightly open
-in the neck, with lace ruffles filling in the crack, and
-tight sleeves with a flounce uncovering just enough
-wrist to show an Etruscan gold bracelet or a velvet
-band.  But Madame Olenska, heedless of tradition, was
-attired in a long robe of red velvet bordered about the
-chin and down the front with glossy black fur.  Archer
-remembered, on his last visit to Paris, seeing a portrait
-by the new painter, Carolus Duran, whose pictures
-were the sensation of the Salon, in which the lady wore
-one of these bold sheath-like robes with her chin nestling
-in fur.  There was something perverse and provocative
-in the notion of fur worn in the evening in a heated
-drawing-room, and in the combination of a muffled
-throat and bare arms; but the effect was undeniably
-pleasing.
-
-"Lord love us--three whole days at Skuytercliff!"
-Beaufort was saying in his loud sneering voice as Archer
-entered.  "You'd better take all your furs, and a
-hot-water-bottle."
-
-"Why?  Is the house so cold?" she asked, holding out
-her left hand to Archer in a way mysteriously suggesting
-that she expected him to kiss it.
-
-"No; but the missus is," said Beaufort, nodding
-carelessly to the young man.
-
-"But I thought her so kind.  She came herself to invite
-me. Granny says I must certainly go."
-
-"Granny would, of course.  And I say it's a shame
-you're going to miss the little oyster supper I'd planned
-for you at Delmonico's next Sunday, with Campanini
-and Scalchi and a lot of jolly people."
-
-She looked doubtfully from the banker to Archer.
-
-"Ah--that does tempt me!  Except the other evening
-at Mrs. Struthers's I've not met a single artist since I've
-been here."
-
-"What kind of artists?  I know one or two painters,
-very good fellows, that I could bring to see you if you'd
-allow me," said Archer boldly.
-
-"Painters?  Are there painters in New York?" asked
-Beaufort, in a tone implying that there could be none
-since he did not buy their pictures; and Madame Olenska
-said to Archer, with her grave smile:  "That would be
-charming.  But I was really thinking of dramatic artists,
-singers, actors, musicians.  My husband's house was
-always full of them."
-
-She said the words "my husband" as if no sinister
-associations were connected with them, and in a tone
-that seemed almost to sigh over the lost delights of her
-married life.  Archer looked at her perplexedly, wondering
-if it were lightness or dissimulation that enabled her
-to touch so easily on the past at the very moment when
-she was risking her reputation in order to break with it.
-
-"I do think," she went on, addressing both men,
-"that the imprevu adds to one's enjoyment.  It's perhaps
-a mistake to see the same people every day."
-
-"It's confoundedly dull, anyhow; New York is dying
-of dullness," Beaufort grumbled.  "And when I try to
-liven it up for you, you go back on me.  Come--think
-better of it!  Sunday is your last chance, for Campanini
-leaves next week for Baltimore and Philadelphia; and
-I've a private room, and a Steinway, and they'll sing all
-night for me."
-
-"How delicious!  May I think it over, and write to
-you tomorrow morning?"
-
-She spoke amiably, yet with the least hint of
-dismissal in her voice.  Beaufort evidently felt it, and being
-unused to dismissals, stood staring at her with an obstinate
-line between his eyes.
-
-"Why not now?"
-
-"It's too serious a question to decide at this late
-hour."
-
-"Do you call it late?"
-
-She returned his glance coolly.  "Yes; because I have
-still to talk business with Mr. Archer for a little while."
-
-"Ah," Beaufort snapped.  There was no appeal from
-her tone, and with a slight shrug he recovered his
-composure, took her hand, which he kissed with a
-practised air, and calling out from the threshold:  "I
-say, Newland, if you can persuade the Countess to stop
-in town of course you're included in the supper," left
-the room with his heavy important step.
-
-For a moment Archer fancied that Mr. Letterblair
-must have told her of his coming; but the irrelevance of
-her next remark made him change his mind.
-
-"You know painters, then?  You live in their milieu?"
-she asked, her eyes full of interest.
-
-"Oh, not exactly.  I don't know that the arts have a
-milieu here, any of them; they're more like a very
-thinly settled outskirt."
-
-"But you care for such things?"
-
-"Immensely.  When I'm in Paris or London I never
-miss an exhibition.  I try to keep up."
-
-She looked down at the tip of the little satin boot
-that peeped from her long draperies.
-
-"I used to care immensely too: my life was full of
-such things.  But now I want to try not to."
-
-"You want to try not to?"
-
-"Yes: I want to cast off all my old life, to become
-just like everybody else here."
-
-Archer reddened.  "You'll never be like everybody
-else," he said.
-
-She raised her straight eyebrows a little.  "Ah, don't
-say that.  If you knew how I hate to be different!"
-
-Her face had grown as sombre as a tragic mask.  She
-leaned forward, clasping her knee in her thin hands,
-and looking away from him into remote dark distances.
-
-"I want to get away from it all," she insisted.
-
-He waited a moment and cleared his throat.  "I know.
-Mr. Letterblair has told me."
-
-"Ah?"
-
-"That's the reason I've come.  He asked me to--you
-see I'm in the firm."
-
-She looked slightly surprised, and then her eyes brightened.
-"You mean you can manage it for me?  I can talk
-to you instead of Mr. Letterblair?  Oh, that will be so
-much easier!"
-
-Her tone touched him, and his confidence grew with
-his self-satisfaction.  He perceived that she had spoken
-of business to Beaufort simply to get rid of him; and to
-have routed Beaufort was something of a triumph.
-
-"I am here to talk about it," he repeated.
-
-She sat silent, her head still propped by the arm that
-rested on the back of the sofa.  Her face looked pale
-and extinguished, as if dimmed by the rich red of her
-dress.  She struck Archer, of a sudden, as a pathetic and
-even pitiful figure.
-
-"Now we're coming to hard facts," he thought,
-conscious in himself of the same instinctive recoil that he
-had so often criticised in his mother and her contemporaries.
-How little practice he had had in dealing with
-unusual situations!  Their very vocabulary was unfamiliar
-to him, and seemed to belong to fiction and the
-stage.  In face of what was coming he felt as awkward
-and embarrassed as a boy.
-
-After a pause Madame Olenska broke out with
-unexpected vehemence:  "I want to be free; I want to wipe
-out all the past."
-
-"I understand that."
-
-Her face warmed.  "Then you'll help me?"
-
-"First--" he hesitated--"perhaps I ought to know a
-little more."
-
-She seemed surprised.  "You know about my husband--
-my life with him?"
-
-He made a sign of assent.
-
-"Well--then--what more is there?  In this country
-are such things tolerated?  I'm a Protestant--our church
-does not forbid divorce in such cases."
-
-"Certainly not."
-
-They were both silent again, and Archer felt the
-spectre of Count Olenski's letter grimacing hideously
-between them.  The letter filled only half a page, and
-was just what he had described it to be in speaking of it
-to Mr. Letterblair: the vague charge of an angry
-blackguard.  But how much truth was behind it?  Only Count
-Olenski's wife could tell.
-
-"I've looked through the papers you gave to Mr.
-Letterblair," he said at length.
-
-"Well--can there be anything more abominable?"
-
-"No."
-
-She changed her position slightly, screening her eyes
-with her lifted hand.
-
-"Of course you know," Archer continued, "that if
-your husband chooses to fight the case--as he threatens to--"
-
-"Yes--?"
-
-"He can say things--things that might be unpl--might
-be disagreeable to you: say them publicly, so that they
-would get about, and harm you even if--"
-
-"If--?"
-
-"I mean: no matter how unfounded they were."
-
-She paused for a long interval; so long that, not
-wishing to keep his eyes on her shaded face, he had
-time to imprint on his mind the exact shape of her
-other hand, the one on her knee, and every detail of the
-three rings on her fourth and fifth fingers; among which,
-he noticed, a wedding ring did not appear.
-
-"What harm could such accusations, even if he made
-them publicly, do me here?"
-
-It was on his lips to exclaim:  "My poor child--far
-more harm than anywhere else!"  Instead, he answered,
-in a voice that sounded in his ears like Mr. Letterblair's:
-"New York society is a very small world compared
-with the one you've lived in.  And it's ruled, in spite of
-appearances, by a few people with--well, rather old-
-fashioned ideas."
-
-She said nothing, and he continued:  "Our ideas about
-marriage and divorce are particularly old-fashioned.
-Our legislation favours divorce--our social customs
-don't."
-
-"Never?"
-
-"Well--not if the woman, however injured, however
-irreproachable, has appearances in the least degree
-against her, has exposed herself by any unconventional
-action to--to offensive insinuations--"
-
-She drooped her head a little lower, and he waited
-again, intensely hoping for a flash of indignation, or at
-least a brief cry of denial.  None came.
-
-A little travelling clock ticked purringly at her elbow,
-and a log broke in two and sent up a shower of sparks.
-The whole hushed and brooding room seemed to be
-waiting silently with Archer.
-
-"Yes," she murmured at length, "that's what my
-family tell me."
-
-He winced a little.  "It's not unnatural--"
-
-"OUR family," she corrected herself; and Archer
-coloured.  "For you'll be my cousin soon," she continued
-gently.
-
-"I hope so."
-
-"And you take their view?"
-
-He stood up at this, wandered across the room,
-stared with void eyes at one of the pictures against the
-old red damask, and came back irresolutely to her side.
-How could he say:  "Yes, if what your husband hints is
-true, or if you've no way of disproving it?"
-
-"Sincerely--" she interjected, as he was about to
-speak.
-
-He looked down into the fire.  "Sincerely, then--what
-should you gain that would compensate for the possibility--
-the certainty--of a lot of beastly talk?"
-
-"But my freedom--is that nothing?"
-
-It flashed across him at that instant that the charge
-in the letter was true, and that she hoped to marry the
-partner of her guilt.  How was he to tell her that, if she
-really cherished such a plan, the laws of the State were
-inexorably opposed to it?  The mere suspicion that the
-thought was in her mind made him feel harshly and
-impatiently toward her.  "But aren't you as free as air
-as it is?" he returned.  "Who can touch you?  Mr.
-Letterblair tells me the financial question has been
-settled--"
-
-"Oh, yes," she said indifferently.
-
-"Well, then: is it worth while to risk what may be
-infinitely disagreeable and painful?  Think of the
-newspapers--their vileness!  It's all stupid and narrow and
-unjust--but one can't make over society."
-
-"No," she acquiesced; and her tone was so faint and
-desolate that he felt a sudden remorse for his own hard
-thoughts.
-
-"The individual, in such cases, is nearly always
-sacrificed to what is supposed to be the collective interest:
-people cling to any convention that keeps the family
-together--protects the children, if there are any," he
-rambled on, pouring out all the stock phrases that rose
-to his lips in his intense desire to cover over the ugly
-reality which her silence seemed to have laid bare.
-Since she would not or could not say the one word that
-would have cleared the air, his wish was not to let her
-feel that he was trying to probe into her secret.  Better
-keep on the surface, in the prudent old New York way,
-than risk uncovering a wound he could not heal.
-
-"It's my business, you know," he went on, "to help
-you to see these things as the people who are fondest of
-you see them.  The Mingotts, the Wellands, the van der
-Luydens, all your friends and relations: if I didn't show
-you honestly how they judge such questions, it wouldn't
-be fair of me, would it?"  He spoke insistently, almost
-pleading with her in his eagerness to cover up that
-yawning silence.
-
-She said slowly:  "No; it wouldn't be fair."
-
-The fire had crumbled down to greyness, and one of
-the lamps made a gurgling appeal for attention.  Madame
-Olenska rose, wound it up and returned to the
-fire, but without resuming her seat.
-
-Her remaining on her feet seemed to signify that
-there was nothing more for either of them to say, and
-Archer stood up also.
-
-"Very well; I will do what you wish," she said
-abruptly.  The blood rushed to his forehead; and, taken
-aback by the suddenness of her surrender, he caught
-her two hands awkwardly in his.
-
-"I--I do want to help you," he said.
-
-"You do help me.  Good night, my cousin."
-
-He bent and laid his lips on her hands, which were
-cold and lifeless.  She drew them away, and he turned
-to the door, found his coat and hat under the faint
-gas-light of the hall, and plunged out into the winter
-night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.
-
-
-
-
-XIII.
-
-It was a crowded night at Wallack's theatre.
-
-The play was "The Shaughraun," with Dion
-Boucicault in the title role and Harry Montague and
-Ada Dyas as the lovers.  The popularity of the admirable
-English company was at its height, and the Shaughraun
-always packed the house.  In the galleries the enthusiasm
-was unreserved; in the stalls and boxes, people
-smiled a little at the hackneyed sentiments and clap-
-trap situations, and enjoyed the play as much as the
-galleries did.
-
-There was one episode, in particular, that held the
-house from floor to ceiling.  It was that in which Harry
-Montague, after a sad, almost monosyllabic scene of
-parting with Miss Dyas, bade her good-bye, and turned
-to go.  The actress, who was standing near the mantelpiece
-and looking down into the fire, wore a gray
-cashmere dress without fashionable loopings or trimmings,
-moulded to her tall figure and flowing in long
-lines about her feet.  Around her neck was a narrow
-black velvet ribbon with the ends falling down her
-back.
-
-When her wooer turned from her she rested her arms
-against the mantel-shelf and bowed her face in her
-hands.  On the threshold he paused to look at her; then
-he stole back, lifted one of the ends of velvet ribbon,
-kissed it, and left the room without her hearing him or
-changing her attitude.  And on this silent parting the
-curtain fell.
-
-It was always for the sake of that particular scene
-that Newland Archer went to see "The Shaughraun."
-He thought the adieux of Montague and Ada Dyas as
-fine as anything he had ever seen Croisette and Bressant
-do in Paris, or Madge Robertson and Kendal in London;
-in its reticence, its dumb sorrow, it moved him
-more than the most famous histrionic outpourings.
-
-On the evening in question the little scene acquired
-an added poignancy by reminding him--he could not
-have said why--of his leave-taking from Madame
-Olenska after their confidential talk a week or ten days
-earlier.
-
-It would have been as difficult to discover any
-resemblance between the two situations as between the
-appearance of the persons concerned.  Newland Archer
-could not pretend to anything approaching the young
-English actor's romantic good looks, and Miss Dyas
-was a tall red-haired woman of monumental build
-whose pale and pleasantly ugly face was utterly unlike
-Ellen Olenska's vivid countenance.  Nor were Archer
-and Madame Olenska two lovers parting in heart-broken
-silence; they were client and lawyer separating
-after a talk which had given the lawyer the worst
-possible impression of the client's case.  Wherein, then,
-lay the resemblance that made the young man's heart
-beat with a kind of retrospective excitement?  It seemed
-to be in Madame Olenska's mysterious faculty of
-suggesting tragic and moving possibilities outside the daily
-run of experience.  She had hardly ever said a word to
-him to produce this impression, but it was a part of
-her, either a projection of her mysterious and outlandish
-background or of something inherently dramatic,
-passionate and unusual in herself.  Archer had always
-been inclined to think that chance and circumstance
-played a small part in shaping people's lots compared
-with their innate tendency to have things happen to
-them.  This tendency he had felt from the first in
-Madame Olenska.  The quiet, almost passive young woman
-struck him as exactly the kind of person to whom
-things were bound to happen, no matter how much she
-shrank from them and went out of her way to avoid
-them.  The exciting fact was her having lived in an
-atmosphere so thick with drama that her own tendency
-to provoke it had apparently passed unperceived.  It
-was precisely the odd absence of surprise in her that
-gave him the sense of her having been plucked out of a
-very maelstrom: the things she took for granted gave
-the measure of those she had rebelled against.
-
-Archer had left her with the conviction that Count
-Olenski's accusation was not unfounded.  The mysterious
-person who figured in his wife's past as "the secretary"
-had probably not been unrewarded for his share
-in her escape.  The conditions from which she had fled
-were intolerable, past speaking of, past believing: she
-was young, she was frightened, she was desperate--
-what more natural than that she should be grateful to
-her rescuer?  The pity was that her gratitude put her, in
-the law's eyes and the world's, on a par with her
-abominable husband.  Archer had made her understand
-this, as he was bound to do; he had also made her
-understand that simplehearted kindly New York, on
-whose larger charity she had apparently counted, was
-precisely the place where she could least hope for
-indulgence.
-
-To have to make this fact plain to her--and to
-witness her resigned acceptance of it--had been intolerably
-painful to him.  He felt himself drawn to her by
-obscure feelings of jealousy and pity, as if her dumbly-
-confessed error had put her at his mercy, humbling yet
-endearing her.  He was glad it was to him she had
-revealed her secret, rather than to the cold scrutiny of
-Mr. Letterblair, or the embarrassed gaze of her family.
-He immediately took it upon himself to assure them
-both that she had given up her idea of seeking a
-divorce, basing her decision on the fact that she had
-understood the uselessness of the proceeding; and with
-infinite relief they had all turned their eyes from the
-"unpleasantness" she had spared them.
-
-"I was sure Newland would manage it," Mrs. Welland
-had said proudly of her future son-in-law; and old
-Mrs. Mingott, who had summoned him for a confidential
-interview, had congratulated him on his cleverness,
-and added impatiently:  "Silly goose!  I told her myself
-what nonsense it was.  Wanting to pass herself off as
-Ellen Mingott and an old maid, when she has the luck
-to be a married woman and a Countess!"
-
-These incidents had made the memory of his last talk
-with Madame Olenska so vivid to the young man that
-as the curtain fell on the parting of the two actors his
-eyes filled with tears, and he stood up to leave the
-theatre.
-
-In doing so, he turned to the side of the house behind
-him, and saw the lady of whom he was thinking seated
-in a box with the Beauforts, Lawrence Lefferts and one
-or two other men.  He had not spoken with her alone
-since their evening together, and had tried to avoid
-being with her in company; but now their eyes met,
-and as Mrs. Beaufort recognised him at the same time,
-and made her languid little gesture of invitation, it was
-impossible not to go into the box.
-
-Beaufort and Lefferts made way for him, and after a
-few words with Mrs. Beaufort, who always preferred
-to look beautiful and not have to talk, Archer seated
-himself behind Madame Olenska.  There was no one
-else in the box but Mr. Sillerton Jackson, who was
-telling Mrs. Beaufort in a confidential undertone about
-Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's last Sunday reception (where
-some people reported that there had been dancing).
-Under cover of this circumstantial narrative, to which
-Mrs. Beaufort listened with her perfect smile, and her
-head at just the right angle to be seen in profile from
-the stalls, Madame Olenska turned and spoke in a low
-voice.
-
-"Do you think," she asked, glancing toward the
-stage, "he will send her a bunch of yellow roses tomorrow
-morning?"
-
-Archer reddened, and his heart gave a leap of
-surprise.  He had called only twice on Madame Olenska,
-and each time he had sent her a box of yellow roses,
-and each time without a card.  She had never before
-made any allusion to the flowers, and he supposed she
-had never thought of him as the sender.  Now her
-sudden recognition of the gift, and her associating it
-with the tender leave-taking on the stage, filled him
-with an agitated pleasure.
-
-"I was thinking of that too--I was going to leave the
-theatre in order to take the picture away with me," he
-said.
-
-To his surprise her colour rose, reluctantly and duskily.
-She looked down at the mother-of-pearl opera-glass
-in her smoothly gloved hands, and said, after a pause:
-"What do you do while May is away?"
-
-"I stick to my work," he answered, faintly annoyed
-by the question.
-
-In obedience to a long-established habit, the Wellands
-had left the previous week for St. Augustine,
-where, out of regard for the supposed susceptibility of
-Mr. Welland's bronchial tubes, they always spent the
-latter part of the winter.  Mr. Welland was a mild and
-silent man, with no opinions but with many habits.
-With these habits none might interfere; and one of
-them demanded that his wife and daughter should always
-go with him on his annual journey to the south.
-To preserve an unbroken domesticity was essential to
-his peace of mind; he would not have known where his
-hair-brushes were, or how to provide stamps for his
-letters, if Mrs. Welland had not been there to tell him.
-
-As all the members of the family adored each other,
-and as Mr. Welland was the central object of their
-idolatry, it never occurred to his wife and May to let
-him go to St. Augustine alone; and his sons, who were
-both in the law, and could not leave New York during
-the winter, always joined him for Easter and travelled
-back with him.
-
-It was impossible for Archer to discuss the necessity
-of May's accompanying her father.  The reputation of
-the Mingotts' family physician was largely based on the
-attack of pneumonia which Mr. Welland had never
-had; and his insistence on St. Augustine was therefore
-inflexible.  Originally, it had been intended that May's
-engagement should not be announced till her return
-from Florida, and the fact that it had been made known
-sooner could not be expected to alter Mr. Welland's
-plans.  Archer would have liked to join the travellers
-and have a few weeks of sunshine and boating with his
-betrothed; but he too was bound by custom and
-conventions.  Little arduous as his professional duties were,
-he would have been convicted of frivolity by the whole
-Mingott clan if he had suggested asking for a holiday
-in mid-winter; and he accepted May's departure with
-the resignation which he perceived would have to be
-one of the principal constituents of married life.
-
-He was conscious that Madame Olenska was looking
-at him under lowered lids.  "I have done what you
-wished--what you advised," she said abruptly.
-
-"Ah--I'm glad," he returned, embarrassed by her
-broaching the subject at such a moment.
-
-"I understand--that you were right," she went on a
-little breathlessly; "but sometimes life is difficult . . .
-perplexing. . ."
-
-"I know."
-
-"And I wanted to tell you that I DO feel you were
-right; and that I'm grateful to you," she ended, lifting
-her opera-glass quickly to her eyes as the door of the
-box opened and Beaufort's resonant voice broke in on
-them.
-
-Archer stood up, and left the box and the theatre.
-
-Only the day before he had received a letter from
-May Welland in which, with characteristic candour,
-she had asked him to "be kind to Ellen" in their
-absence.  "She likes you and admires you so much--and
-you know, though she doesn't show it, she's still very
-lonely and unhappy.  I don't think Granny understands
-her, or uncle Lovell Mingott either; they really think
-she's much worldlier and fonder of society than she is.
-And I can quite see that New York must seem dull to
-her, though the family won't admit it.  I think she's
-been used to lots of things we haven't got; wonderful
-music, and picture shows, and celebrities--artists and
-authors and all the clever people you admire.  Granny
-can't understand her wanting anything but lots of dinners
-and clothes--but I can see that you're almost the
-only person in New York who can talk to her about
-what she really cares for."
-
-His wise May--how he had loved her for that letter!
-But he had not meant to act on it; he was too busy, to
-begin with, and he did not care, as an engaged man, to
-play too conspicuously the part of Madame Olenska's
-champion.  He had an idea that she knew how to take
-care of herself a good deal better than the ingenuous
-May imagined.  She had Beaufort at her feet, Mr. van
-der Luyden hovering above her like a protecting deity,
-and any number of candidates (Lawrence Lefferts among
-them) waiting their opportunity in the middle distance.
-Yet he never saw her, or exchanged a word with her,
-without feeling that, after all, May's ingenuousness
-almost amounted to a gift of divination.  Ellen Olenska
-was lonely and she was unhappy.
-
-
-
-XIV.
-
-As he came out into the lobby Archer ran across his
-friend Ned Winsett, the only one among what
-Janey called his "clever people" with whom he cared to
-probe into things a little deeper than the average level
-of club and chop-house banter.
-
-He had caught sight, across the house, of Winsett's
-shabby round-shouldered back, and had once noticed
-his eyes turned toward the Beaufort box.  The two men
-shook hands, and Winsett proposed a bock at a little
-German restaurant around the corner.  Archer, who
-was not in the mood for the kind of talk they were
-likely to get there, declined on the plea that he had
-work to do at home; and Winsett said:  "Oh, well so
-have I for that matter, and I'll be the Industrious
-Apprentice too."
-
-They strolled along together, and presently Winsett
-said:  "Look here, what I'm really after is the name of
-the dark lady in that swell box of yours--with the
-Beauforts, wasn't she?  The one your friend Lefferts
-seems so smitten by."
-
-Archer, he could not have said why, was slightly
-annoyed.  What the devil did Ned Winsett want with
-Ellen Olenska's name?  And above all, why did he couple
-it with Lefferts's?  It was unlike Winsett to manifest
-such curiosity; but after all, Archer remembered, he
-was a journalist.
-
-"It's not for an interview, I hope?" he laughed.
-
-"Well--not for the press; just for myself," Winsett
-rejoined.  "The fact is she's a neighbour of mine--queer
-quarter for such a beauty to settle in--and she's been
-awfully kind to my little boy, who fell down her area
-chasing his kitten, and gave himself a nasty cut.  She
-rushed in bareheaded, carrying him in her arms, with
-his knee all beautifully bandaged, and was so sympathetic
-and beautiful that my wife was too dazzled to
-ask her name."
-
-A pleasant glow dilated Archer's heart.  There was
-nothing extraordinary in the tale: any woman would
-have done as much for a neighbour's child.  But it was
-just like Ellen, he felt, to have rushed in bareheaded,
-carrying the boy in her arms, and to have dazzled poor
-Mrs. Winsett into forgetting to ask who she was.
-
-"That is the Countess Olenska--a granddaughter of
-old Mrs. Mingott's."
-
-"Whew--a Countess!" whistled Ned Winsett.  "Well,
-I didn't know Countesses were so neighbourly.  Mingotts
-ain't."
-
-"They would be, if you'd let them."
-
-"Ah, well--"  It was their old interminable argument
-as to the obstinate unwillingness of the "clever people"
-to frequent the fashionable, and both men knew that
-there was no use in prolonging it.
-
-"I wonder," Winsett broke off, "how a Countess
-happens to live in our slum?"
-
-"Because she doesn't care a hang about where she
-lives--or about any of our little social sign-posts," said
-Archer, with a secret pride in his own picture of her.
-
-"H'm--been in bigger places, I suppose," the other
-commented.  "Well, here's my corner."
-
-He slouched off across Broadway, and Archer stood
-looking after him and musing on his last words.
-
-Ned Winsett had those flashes of penetration; they
-were the most interesting thing about him, and always
-made Archer wonder why they had allowed him to
-accept failure so stolidly at an age when most men are
-still struggling.
-
-Archer had known that Winsett had a wife and
-child, but he had never seen them.  The two men always
-met at the Century, or at some haunt of journalists and
-theatrical people, such as the restaurant where Winsett
-had proposed to go for a bock.  He had given Archer to
-understand that his wife was an invalid; which might
-be true of the poor lady, or might merely mean that she
-was lacking in social gifts or in evening clothes, or in
-both.  Winsett himself had a savage abhorrence of social
-observances: Archer, who dressed in the evening
-because he thought it cleaner and more comfortable to
-do so, and who had never stopped to consider that
-cleanliness and comfort are two of the costliest items in
-a modest budget, regarded Winsett's attitude as part of
-the boring "Bohemian" pose that always made fashionable
-people, who changed their clothes without talking
-about it, and were not forever harping on the number
-of servants one kept, seem so much simpler and less
-self-conscious than the others.  Nevertheless, he was
-always stimulated by Winsett, and whenever he caught
-sight of the journalist's lean bearded face and melancholy
-eyes he would rout him out of his corner and
-carry him off for a long talk.
-
-Winsett was not a journalist by choice.  He was a
-pure man of letters, untimely born in a world that had
-no need of letters; but after publishing one volume of
-brief and exquisite literary appreciations, of which one
-hundred and twenty copies were sold, thirty given away,
-and the balance eventually destroyed by the publishers
-(as per contract) to make room for more marketable
-material, he had abandoned his real calling, and taken
-a sub-editorial job on a women's weekly, where fashion-
-plates and paper patterns alternated with New England
-love-stories and advertisements of temperance drinks.
-
-On the subject of "Hearth-fires" (as the paper was
-called) he was inexhaustibly entertaining; but beneath
-his fun lurked the sterile bitterness of the still young
-man who has tried and given up.  His conversation
-always made Archer take the measure of his own life,
-and feel how little it contained; but Winsett's, after all,
-contained still less, and though their common fund of
-intellectual interests and curiosities made their talks
-exhilarating, their exchange of views usually remained
-within the limits of a pensive dilettantism.
-
-"The fact is, life isn't much a fit for either of us,"
-Winsett had once said.  "I'm down and out; nothing to
-be done about it.  I've got only one ware to produce,
-and there's no market for it here, and won't be in my
-time.  But you're free and you're well-off.  Why don't
-you get into touch?  There's only one way to do it: to
-go into politics."
-
-Archer threw his head back and laughed.  There one
-saw at a flash the unbridgeable difference between men
-like Winsett and the others--Archer's kind.  Every one
-in polite circles knew that, in America, "a gentleman
-couldn't go into politics."  But, since he could hardly
-put it in that way to Winsett, he answered evasively:
-"Look at the career of the honest man in American
-politics!  They don't want us."
-
-"Who's `they'?  Why don't you all get together and
-be `they' yourselves?"
-
-Archer's laugh lingered on his lips in a slightly
-condescending smile.  It was useless to prolong the
-discussion: everybody knew the melancholy fate of the
-few gentlemen who had risked their clean linen in
-municipal or state politics in New York.  The day was
-past when that sort of thing was possible: the country
-was in possession of the bosses and the emigrant, and
-decent people had to fall back on sport or culture.
-
-"Culture!  Yes--if we had it!  But there are just a few
-little local patches, dying out here and there for lack
-of--well, hoeing and cross-fertilising: the last remnants
-of the old European tradition that your forebears brought
-with them.  But you're in a pitiful little minority: you've
-got no centre, no competition, no audience.  You're like
-the pictures on the walls of a deserted house:  `The
-Portrait of a Gentleman.'  You'll never amount to anything,
-any of you, till you roll up your sleeves and get
-right down into the muck.  That, or emigrate . . . God!
-If I could emigrate . . ."
-
-Archer mentally shrugged his shoulders and turned
-the conversation back to books, where Winsett, if
-uncertain, was always interesting.  Emigrate!  As if a
-gentleman could abandon his own country!  One could no
-more do that than one could roll up one's sleeves and
-go down into the muck.  A gentleman simply stayed at
-home and abstained.  But you couldn't make a man like
-Winsett see that; and that was why the New York of
-literary clubs and exotic restaurants, though a first
-shake made it seem more of a kaleidoscope, turned out,
-in the end, to be a smaller box, with a more monotonous
-pattern, than the assembled atoms of Fifth Avenue.
-
-
-The next morning Archer scoured the town in vain for
-more yellow roses.  In consequence of this search he
-arrived late at the office, perceived that his doing so
-made no difference whatever to any one, and was filled
-with sudden exasperation at the elaborate futility of his
-life.  Why should he not be, at that moment, on the
-sands of St. Augustine with May Welland?  No one was
-deceived by his pretense of professional activity.  In
-old-fashioned legal firms like that of which Mr. Letterblair
-was the head, and which were mainly engaged in
-the management of large estates and "conservative"
-investments, there were always two or three young
-men, fairly well-off, and without professional ambition,
-who, for a certain number of hours of each day, sat at
-their desks accomplishing trivial tasks, or simply reading
-the newspapers.  Though it was supposed to be
-proper for them to have an occupation, the crude fact
-of money-making was still regarded as derogatory, and
-the law, being a profession, was accounted a more
-gentlemanly pursuit than business.  But none of these
-young men had much hope of really advancing in his
-profession, or any earnest desire to do so; and over
-many of them the green mould of the perfunctory was
-already perceptibly spreading.
-
-It made Archer shiver to think that it might be spreading
-over him too.  He had, to be sure, other tastes and
-interests; he spent his vacations in European travel,
-cultivated the "clever people" May spoke of, and
-generally tried to "keep up," as he had somewhat wistfully
-put it to Madame Olenska.  But once he was married,
-what would become of this narrow margin of life in
-which his real experiences were lived?  He had seen
-enough of other young men who had dreamed his
-dream, though perhaps less ardently, and who had
-gradually sunk into the placid and luxurious routine of
-their elders.
-
-From the office he sent a note by messenger to Madame
-Olenska, asking if he might call that afternoon,
-and begging her to let him find a reply at his club; but
-at the club he found nothing, nor did he receive any
-letter the following day.  This unexpected silence mortified
-him beyond reason, and though the next morning
-he saw a glorious cluster of yellow roses behind a
-florist's window-pane, he left it there.  It was only on
-the third morning that he received a line by post from
-the Countess Olenska.  To his surprise it was dated
-from Skuytercliff, whither the van der Luydens had
-promptly retreated after putting the Duke on board his
-steamer.
-
-"I ran away," the writer began abruptly (without the
-usual preliminaries), "the day after I saw you at the
-play, and these kind friends have taken me in.  I wanted
-to be quiet, and think things over.  You were right in
-telling me how kind they were; I feel myself so safe
-here.  I wish that you were with us."  She ended with a
-conventional "Yours sincerely," and without any allusion
-to the date of her return.
-
-The tone of the note surprised the young man.  What
-was Madame Olenska running away from, and why
-did she feel the need to be safe?  His first thought was
-of some dark menace from abroad; then he reflected
-that he did not know her epistolary style, and that it
-might run to picturesque exaggeration.  Women always
-exaggerated; and moreover she was not wholly at her
-ease in English, which she often spoke as if she were
-translating from the French.  "Je me suis evadee--" put
-in that way, the opening sentence immediately suggested
-that she might merely have wanted to escape
-from a boring round of engagements; which was very
-likely true, for he judged her to be capricious, and
-easily wearied of the pleasure of the moment.
-
-It amused him to think of the van der Luydens'
-having carried her off to Skuytercliff on a second visit,
-and this time for an indefinite period.  The doors of
-Skuytercliff were rarely and grudgingly opened to visitors,
-and a chilly week-end was the most ever offered
-to the few thus privileged.  But Archer had seen, on his
-last visit to Paris, the delicious play of Labiche, "Le
-Voyage de M. Perrichon," and he remembered M.
-Perrichon's dogged and undiscouraged attachment to
-the young man whom he had pulled out of the glacier.
-The van der Luydens had rescued Madame Olenska
-from a doom almost as icy; and though there were
-many other reasons for being attracted to her, Archer
-knew that beneath them all lay the gentle and obstinate
-determination to go on rescuing her.
-
-He felt a distinct disappointment on learning that she
-was away; and almost immediately remembered that,
-only the day before, he had refused an invitation to
-spend the following Sunday with the Reggie Chiverses
-at their house on the Hudson, a few miles below
-Skuytercliff.
-
-He had had his fill long ago of the noisy friendly
-parties at Highbank, with coasting, ice-boating, sleighing,
-long tramps in the snow, and a general flavour of
-mild flirting and milder practical jokes.  He had just
-received a box of new books from his London book-
-seller, and had preferred the prospect of a quiet Sunday
-at home with his spoils.  But he now went into the club
-writing-room, wrote a hurried telegram, and told the
-servant to send it immediately.  He knew that Mrs.
-Reggie didn't object to her visitors' suddenly changing
-their minds, and that there was always a room to spare
-in her elastic house.
-
-
-
-XV.
-
-Newland Archer arrived at the Chiverses' on Friday
-evening, and on Saturday went conscientiously
-through all the rites appertaining to a week-end at
-Highbank.
-
-In the morning he had a spin in the ice-boat with his
-hostess and a few of the hardier guests; in the afternoon
-he "went over the farm" with Reggie, and listened,
-in the elaborately appointed stables, to long and
-impressive disquisitions on the horse; after tea he talked
-in a corner of the firelit hall with a young lady who
-had professed herself broken-hearted when his engagement
-was announced, but was now eager to tell him of
-her own matrimonial hopes; and finally, about midnight,
-he assisted in putting a gold-fish in one visitor's
-bed, dressed up a burglar in the bath-room of a nervous
-aunt, and saw in the small hours by joining in a
-pillow-fight that ranged from the nurseries to the
-basement.  But on Sunday after luncheon he borrowed a
-cutter, and drove over to Skuytercliff.
-
-People had always been told that the house at
-Skuytercliff was an Italian villa.  Those who had never
-been to Italy believed it; so did some who had.  The
-house had been built by Mr. van der Luyden in his
-youth, on his return from the "grand tour," and in
-anticipation of his approaching marriage with Miss
-Louisa Dagonet.  It was a large square wooden structure,
-with tongued and grooved walls painted pale
-green and white, a Corinthian portico, and fluted
-pilasters between the windows.  From the high ground on
-which it stood a series of terraces bordered by balustrades
-and urns descended in the steel-engraving style
-to a small irregular lake with an asphalt edge overhung
-by rare weeping conifers.  To the right and left, the
-famous weedless lawns studded with "specimen" trees
-(each of a different variety) rolled away to long ranges
-of grass crested with elaborate cast-iron ornaments;
-and below, in a hollow, lay the four-roomed stone
-house which the first Patroon had built on the land
-granted him in 1612.
-
-Against the uniform sheet of snow and the greyish
-winter sky the Italian villa loomed up rather grimly;
-even in summer it kept its distance, and the boldest
-coleus bed had never ventured nearer than thirty feet
-from its awful front.  Now, as Archer rang the bell, the
-long tinkle seemed to echo through a mausoleum; and
-the surprise of the butler who at length responded to
-the call was as great as though he had been summoned
-from his final sleep.
-
-Happily Archer was of the family, and therefore,
-irregular though his arrival was, entitled to be informed
-that the Countess Olenska was out, having driven to
-afternoon service with Mrs. van der Luyden exactly
-three quarters of an hour earlier.
-
-"Mr. van der Luyden," the butler continued, "is
-in, sir; but my impression is that he is either finishing
-his nap or else reading yesterday's Evening Post.  I
-heard him say, sir, on his return from church this
-morning, that he intended to look through the Evening
-Post after luncheon; if you like, sir, I might go to the
-library door and listen--"
-
-But Archer, thanking him, said that he would go and
-meet the ladies; and the butler, obviously relieved, closed
-the door on him majestically.
-
-A groom took the cutter to the stables, and Archer
-struck through the park to the high-road.  The village of
-Skuytercliff was only a mile and a half away, but he
-knew that Mrs. van der Luyden never walked, and that
-he must keep to the road to meet the carriage.  Presently,
-however, coming down a foot-path that crossed
-the highway, he caught sight of a slight figure in a red
-cloak, with a big dog running ahead.  He hurried forward,
-and Madame Olenska stopped short with a smile
-of welcome.
-
-"Ah, you've come!" she said, and drew her hand
-from her muff.
-
-The red cloak made her look gay and vivid, like the
-Ellen Mingott of old days; and he laughed as he took
-her hand, and answered:  "I came to see what you were
-running away from."
-
-Her face clouded over, but she answered:  "Ah, well--
-you will see, presently."
-
-The answer puzzled him.  "Why--do you mean that
-you've been overtaken?"
-
-She shrugged her shoulders, with a little movement
-like Nastasia's, and rejoined in a lighter tone:  "Shall
-we walk on?  I'm so cold after the sermon.  And what
-does it matter, now you're here to protect me?"
-
-The blood rose to his temples and he caught a fold of
-her cloak.  "Ellen--what is it?  You must tell me."
-
-"Oh, presently--let's run a race first: my feet are
-freezing to the ground," she cried; and gathering up the
-cloak she fled away across the snow, the dog leaping
-about her with challenging barks.  For a moment Archer
-stood watching, his gaze delighted by the flash of the
-red meteor against the snow; then he started after her,
-and they met, panting and laughing, at a wicket that
-led into the park.
-
-She looked up at him and smiled.  "I knew you'd
-come!"
-
-"That shows you wanted me to," he returned, with a
-disproportionate joy in their nonsense.  The white glitter
-of the trees filled the air with its own mysterious
-brightness, and as they walked on over the snow the
-ground seemed to sing under their feet.
-
-"Where did you come from?" Madame Olenska asked.
-
-He told her, and added:  "It was because I got your
-note."
-
-After a pause she said, with a just perceptible chill in
-her voice:  "May asked you to take care of me."
-
-"I didn't need any asking."
-
-"You mean--I'm so evidently helpless and defenceless?
-What a poor thing you must all think me!  But women
-here seem not--seem never to feel the need: any more
-than the blessed in heaven."
-
-He lowered his voice to ask:  "What sort of a need?"
-
-"Ah, don't ask me!  I don't speak your language,"
-she retorted petulantly.
-
-The answer smote him like a blow, and he stood still
-in the path, looking down at her.
-
-"What did I come for, if I don't speak yours?"
-
-"Oh, my friend--!"  She laid her hand lightly on his
-arm, and he pleaded earnestly:  "Ellen--why won't you
-tell me what's happened?"
-
-She shrugged again.  "Does anything ever happen in
-heaven?"
-
-He was silent, and they walked on a few yards
-without exchanging a word.  Finally she said:  "I will
-tell you--but where, where, where?  One can't be alone
-for a minute in that great seminary of a house, with all
-the doors wide open, and always a servant bringing
-tea, or a log for the fire, or the newspaper!  Is there
-nowhere in an American house where one may be by
-one's self?  You're so shy, and yet you're so public.  I
-always feel as if I were in the convent again--or on the
-stage, before a dreadfully polite audience that never
-applauds."
-
-"Ah, you don't like us!" Archer exclaimed.
-
-They were walking past the house of the old
-Patroon, with its squat walls and small square windows
-compactly grouped about a central chimney.  The shutters
-stood wide, and through one of the newly-washed
-windows Archer caught the light of a fire.
-
-"Why--the house is open!" he said.
-
-She stood still.  "No; only for today, at least.  I wanted
-to see it, and Mr. van der Luyden had the fire lit and
-the windows opened, so that we might stop there on
-the way back from church this morning."  She ran up
-the steps and tried the door.  "It's still unlocked--what
-luck!  Come in and we can have a quiet talk.  Mrs. van
-der Luyden has driven over to see her old aunts at
-Rhinebeck and we shan't be missed at the house for
-another hour."
-
-He followed her into the narrow passage.  His spirits,
-which had dropped at her last words, rose with an
-irrational leap.  The homely little house stood there, its
-panels and brasses shining in the firelight, as if magically
-created to receive them.  A big bed of embers still
-gleamed in the kitchen chimney, under an iron pot
-hung from an ancient crane.  Rush-bottomed arm-chairs
-faced each other across the tiled hearth, and rows of
-Delft plates stood on shelves against the walls.  Archer
-stooped over and threw a log upon the embers.
-
-Madame Olenska, dropping her cloak, sat down in
-one of the chairs.  Archer leaned against the chimney
-and looked at her.
-
-"You're laughing now; but when you wrote me you
-were unhappy," he said.
-
-"Yes."  She paused.  "But I can't feel unhappy when
-you're here."
-
-"I sha'n't be here long," he rejoined, his lips stiffening
-with the effort to say just so much and no more.
-
-"No; I know.  But I'm improvident: I live in the
-moment when I'm happy."
-
-The words stole through him like a temptation, and
-to close his senses to it he moved away from the hearth
-and stood gazing out at the black tree-boles against the
-snow.  But it was as if she too had shifted her place, and
-he still saw her, between himself and the trees, drooping
-over the fire with her indolent smile.  Archer's heart
-was beating insubordinately.  What if it were from him
-that she had been running away, and if she had waited
-to tell him so till they were here alone together in this
-secret room?
-
-"Ellen, if I'm really a help to you--if you really
-wanted me to come--tell me what's wrong, tell me
-what it is you're running away from," he insisted.
-
-He spoke without shifting his position, without even
-turning to look at her: if the thing was to happen, it
-was to happen in this way, with the whole width of the
-room between them, and his eyes still fixed on the
-outer snow.
-
-For a long moment she was silent; and in that moment
-Archer imagined her, almost heard her, stealing
-up behind him to throw her light arms about his neck.
-While he waited, soul and body throbbing with the
-miracle to come, his eyes mechanically received the
-image of a heavily-coated man with his fur collar turned
-up who was advancing along the path to the house.
-The man was Julius Beaufort.
-
-"Ah--!" Archer cried, bursting into a laugh.
-
-Madame Olenska had sprung up and moved to his
-side, slipping her hand into his; but after a glance
-through the window her face paled and she shrank
-back.
-
-"So that was it?" Archer said derisively.
-
-"I didn't know he was here," Madame Olenska
-murmured.  Her hand still clung to Archer's; but he drew
-away from her, and walking out into the passage threw
-open the door of the house.
-
-"Hallo, Beaufort--this way!  Madame Olenska was
-expecting you," he said.
-
-
-During his journey back to New York the next morning,
-Archer relived with a fatiguing vividness his last
-moments at Skuytercliff.
-
-Beaufort, though clearly annoyed at finding him with
-Madame Olenska, had, as usual, carried off the situation
-high-handedly.  His way of ignoring people whose
-presence inconvenienced him actually gave them, if they
-were sensitive to it, a feeling of invisibility, of
-nonexistence.  Archer, as the three strolled back through
-the park, was aware of this odd sense of disembodiment;
-and humbling as it was to his vanity it gave him the
-ghostly advantage of observing unobserved.
-
-Beaufort had entered the little house with his usual
-easy assurance; but he could not smile away the vertical
-line between his eyes.  It was fairly clear that Madame
-Olenska had not known that he was coming,
-though her words to Archer had hinted at the possibility;
-at any rate, she had evidently not told him where
-she was going when she left New York, and her unexplained
-departure had exasperated him.  The ostensible
-reason of his appearance was the discovery, the very
-night before, of a "perfect little house," not in the
-market, which was really just the thing for her, but
-would be snapped up instantly if she didn't take it; and
-he was loud in mock-reproaches for the dance she had
-led him in running away just as he had found it.
-
-"If only this new dodge for talking along a wire had
-been a little bit nearer perfection I might have told you
-all this from town, and been toasting my toes before
-the club fire at this minute, instead of tramping after
-you through the snow," he grumbled, disguising a real
-irritation under the pretence of it; and at this opening
-Madame Olenska twisted the talk away to the fantastic
-possibility that they might one day actually converse
-with each other from street to street, or even--
-incredible dream!--from one town to another.  This struck
-from all three allusions to Edgar Poe and Jules Verne,
-and such platitudes as naturally rise to the lips of the
-most intelligent when they are talking against time, and
-dealing with a new invention in which it would seem
-ingenuous to believe too soon; and the question of the
-telephone carried them safely back to the big house.
-
-Mrs. van der Luyden had not yet returned; and
-Archer took his leave and walked off to fetch the
-cutter, while Beaufort followed the Countess Olenska
-indoors.  It was probable that, little as the van der
-Luydens encouraged unannounced visits, he could count
-on being asked to dine, and sent back to the station to
-catch the nine o'clock train; but more than that he
-would certainly not get, for it would be inconceivable
-to his hosts that a gentleman travelling without luggage
-should wish to spend the night, and distasteful to them
-to propose it to a person with whom they were on
-terms of such limited cordiality as Beaufort.
-
-Beaufort knew all this, and must have foreseen it;
-and his taking the long journey for so small a reward
-gave the measure of his impatience.  He was undeniably
-in pursuit of the Countess Olenska; and Beaufort had
-only one object in view in his pursuit of pretty women.
-His dull and childless home had long since palled on
-him; and in addition to more permanent consolations
-he was always in quest of amorous adventures in his
-own set.  This was the man from whom Madame Olenska
-was avowedly flying: the question was whether she had
-fled because his importunities displeased her, or
-because she did not wholly trust herself to resist them;
-unless, indeed, all her talk of flight had been a blind,
-and her departure no more than a manoeuvre.
-
-Archer did not really believe this.  Little as he had
-actually seen of Madame Olenska, he was beginning to
-think that he could read her face, and if not her face,
-her voice; and both had betrayed annoyance, and even
-dismay, at Beaufort's sudden appearance.  But, after all,
-if this were the case, was it not worse than if she had
-left New York for the express purpose of meeting him?
-If she had done that, she ceased to be an object of
-interest, she threw in her lot with the vulgarest of
-dissemblers: a woman engaged in a love affair with
-Beaufort "classed" herself irretrievably.
-
-No, it was worse a thousand times if, judging
-Beaufort, and probably despising him, she was yet drawn to
-him by all that gave him an advantage over the other
-men about her: his habit of two continents and two
-societies, his familiar association with artists and actors
-and people generally in the world's eye, and his careless
-contempt for local prejudices.  Beaufort was vulgar, he
-was uneducated, he was purse-proud; but the circumstances
-of his life, and a certain native shrewdness,
-made him better worth talking to than many men,
-morally and socially his betters, whose horizon was
-bounded by the Battery and the Central Park.  How
-should any one coming from a wider world not feel the
-difference and be attracted by it?
-
-Madame Olenska, in a burst of irritation, had said to
-Archer that he and she did not talk the same language;
-and the young man knew that in some respects this was
-true.  But Beaufort understood every turn of her dialect,
-and spoke it fluently: his view of life, his tone, his
-attitude, were merely a coarser reflection of those
-revealed in Count Olenski's letter.  This might seem to be
-to his disadvantage with Count Olenski's wife; but
-Archer was too intelligent to think that a young woman
-like Ellen Olenska would necessarily recoil from everything
-that reminded her of her past.  She might believe
-herself wholly in revolt against it; but what had charmed
-her in it would still charm her, even though it were
-against her will.
-
-Thus, with a painful impartiality, did the young man
-make out the case for Beaufort, and for Beaufort's
-victim.  A longing to enlighten her was strong in him;
-and there were moments when he imagined that all she
-asked was to be enlightened.
-
-That evening he unpacked his books from London.
-The box was full of things he had been waiting for
-impatiently; a new volume of Herbert Spencer, another
-collection of the prolific Alphonse Daudet's brilliant
-tales, and a novel called "Middlemarch," as to which
-there had lately been interesting things said in the
-reviews.  He had declined three dinner invitations in
-favour of this feast; but though he turned the pages with
-the sensuous joy of the book-lover, he did not know
-what he was reading, and one book after another
-dropped from his hand.  Suddenly, among them, he lit
-on a small volume of verse which he had ordered
-because the name had attracted him:  "The House of
-Life."  He took it up, and found himself plunged in an
-atmosphere unlike any he had ever breathed in books;
-so warm, so rich, and yet so ineffably tender, that it
-gave a new and haunting beauty to the most elementary
-of human passions.  All through the night he pursued
-through those enchanted pages the vision of a
-woman who had the face of Ellen Olenska; but when
-he woke the next morning, and looked out at the
-brownstone houses across the street, and thought of his
-desk in Mr. Letterblair's office, and the family pew in
-Grace Church, his hour in the park of Skuytercliff
-became as far outside the pale of probability as the
-visions of the night.
-
-"Mercy, how pale you look, Newland!" Janey
-commented over the coffee-cups at breakfast; and his mother
-added:  "Newland, dear, I've noticed lately that you've
-been coughing; I do hope you're not letting yourself be
-overworked?"  For it was the conviction of both ladies
-that, under the iron despotism of his senior partners,
-the young man's life was spent in the most exhausting
-professional labours--and he had never thought it
-necessary to undeceive them.
-
-The next two or three days dragged by heavily.  The
-taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and
-there were moments when he felt as if he were being
-buried alive under his future.  He heard nothing of the
-Countess Olenska, or of the perfect little house, and
-though he met Beaufort at the club they merely nodded
-at each other across the whist-tables.  It was not till the
-fourth evening that he found a note awaiting him on
-his return home.  "Come late tomorrow: I must explain
-to you.  Ellen."  These were the only words it contained.
-
-The young man, who was dining out, thrust the note
-into his pocket, smiling a little at the Frenchness of the
-"to you."  After dinner he went to a play; and it was
-not until his return home, after midnight, that he drew
-Madame Olenska's missive out again and re-read it
-slowly a number of times.  There were several ways of
-answering it, and he gave considerable thought to each
-one during the watches of an agitated night.  That on
-which, when morning came, he finally decided was to
-pitch some clothes into a portmanteau and jump on
-board a boat that was leaving that very afternoon for
-St. Augustine.
-
-
-
-XVI.
-
-When Archer walked down the sandy main street
-of St. Augustine to the house which had been
-pointed out to him as Mr. Welland's, and saw May
-Welland standing under a magnolia with the sun in her
-hair, he wondered why he had waited so long to come.
-
-Here was the truth, here was reality, here was the life
-that belonged to him; and he, who fancied himself so
-scornful of arbitrary restraints, had been afraid to break
-away from his desk because of what people might
-think of his stealing a holiday!
-
-Her first exclamation was:  "Newland--has anything
-happened?" and it occurred to him that it would have
-been more "feminine" if she had instantly read in his
-eyes why he had come.  But when he answered:  "Yes--I
-found I had to see you," her happy blushes took the
-chill from her surprise, and he saw how easily he
-would be forgiven, and how soon even Mr. Letterblair's
-mild disapproval would be smiled away by a tolerant
-family.
-
-Early as it was, the main street was no place for any
-but formal greetings, and Archer longed to be alone
-with May, and to pour out all his tenderness and his
-impatience.  It still lacked an hour to the late Welland
-breakfast-time, and instead of asking him to come in
-she proposed that they should walk out to an old
-orange-garden beyond the town.  She had just been for
-a row on the river, and the sun that netted the little
-waves with gold seemed to have caught her in its
-meshes.  Across the warm brown of her cheek her blown
-hair glittered like silver wire; and her eyes too looked
-lighter, almost pale in their youthful limpidity.  As she
-walked beside Archer with her long swinging gait her
-face wore the vacant serenity of a young marble athlete.
-
-To Archer's strained nerves the vision was as soothing
-as the sight of the blue sky and the lazy river.  They
-sat down on a bench under the orange-trees and he put
-his arm about her and kissed her.  It was like drinking
-at a cold spring with the sun on it; but his pressure
-may have been more vehement than he had intended,
-for the blood rose to her face and she drew back as if
-he had startled her.
-
-"What is it?" he asked, smiling; and she looked at
-him with surprise, and answered:  "Nothing."
-
-A slight embarrassment fell on them, and her hand
-slipped out of his.  It was the only time that he had
-kissed her on the lips except for their fugitive embrace
-in the Beaufort conservatory, and he saw that she was
-disturbed, and shaken out of her cool boyish composure.
-
-"Tell me what you do all day," he said, crossing his
-arms under his tilted-back head, and pushing his hat
-forward to screen the sun-dazzle.  To let her talk about
-familiar and simple things was the easiest way of carrying
-on his own independent train of thought; and he
-sat listening to her simple chronicle of swimming, sailing
-and riding, varied by an occasional dance at the
-primitive inn when a man-of-war came in.  A few pleasant
-people from Philadelphia and Baltimore were
-picknicking at the inn, and the Selfridge Merrys had
-come down for three weeks because Kate Merry had
-had bronchitis.  They were planning to lay out a lawn
-tennis court on the sands; but no one but Kate and
-May had racquets, and most of the people had not
-even heard of the game.
-
-All this kept her very busy, and she had not had time
-to do more than look at the little vellum book that
-Archer had sent her the week before (the "Sonnets
-from the Portuguese"); but she was learning by heart
-"How they brought the Good News from Ghent to
-Aix," because it was one of the first things he had ever
-read to her; and it amused her to be able to tell him
-that Kate Merry had never even heard of a poet called
-Robert Browning.
-
-Presently she started up, exclaiming that they would
-be late for breakfast; and they hurried back to the
-tumble-down house with its pointless porch and unpruned
-hedge of plumbago and pink geraniums where
-the Wellands were installed for the winter.  Mr.
-Welland's sensitive domesticity shrank from the discomforts
-of the slovenly southern hotel, and at immense
-expense, and in face of almost insuperable difficulties,
-Mrs. Welland was obliged, year after year, to improvise
-an establishment partly made up of discontented
-New York servants and partly drawn from the local
-African supply.
-
-"The doctors want my husband to feel that he is in
-his own home; otherwise he would be so wretched that
-the climate would not do him any good," she
-explained, winter after winter, to the sympathising
-Philadelphians and Baltimoreans; and Mr. Welland, beaming
-across a breakfast table miraculously supplied with the
-most varied delicacies, was presently saying to Archer:
-"You see, my dear fellow, we camp--we literally camp.
-I tell my wife and May that I want to teach them how
-to rough it."
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Welland had been as much surprised
-as their daughter by the young man's sudden arrival;
-but it had occurred to him to explain that he had felt
-himself on the verge of a nasty cold, and this seemed to
-Mr. Welland an all-sufficient reason for abandoning
-any duty.
-
-"You can't be too careful, especially toward spring,"
-he said, heaping his plate with straw-coloured griddle-
-cakes and drowning them in golden syrup.  "If I'd only
-been as prudent at your age May would have been
-dancing at the Assemblies now, instead of spending her
-winters in a wilderness with an old invalid."
-
-"Oh, but I love it here, Papa; you know I do.  If only
-Newland could stay I should like it a thousand times
-better than New York."
-
-"Newland must stay till he has quite thrown off his
-cold," said Mrs. Welland indulgently; and the young
-man laughed, and said he supposed there was such a
-thing as one's profession.
-
-He managed, however, after an exchange of telegrams
-with the firm, to make his cold last a week; and
-it shed an ironic light on the situation to know that
-Mr. Letterblair's indulgence was partly due to the
-satisfactory way in which his brilliant young junior partner
-had settled the troublesome matter of the Olenski
-divorce.  Mr. Letterblair had let Mrs. Welland know that
-Mr. Archer had "rendered an invaluable service" to the
-whole family, and that old Mrs. Manson Mingott had
-been particularly pleased; and one day when May had
-gone for a drive with her father in the only vehicle the
-place produced Mrs. Welland took occasion to touch
-on a topic which she always avoided in her daughter's
-presence.
-
-"I'm afraid Ellen's ideas are not at all like ours.  She
-was barely eighteen when Medora Manson took her
-back to Europe--you remember the excitement when
-she appeared in black at her coming-out ball?  Another
-of Medora's fads--really this time it was almost
-prophetic!  That must have been at least twelve years ago;
-and since then Ellen has never been to America.  No
-wonder she is completely Europeanised."
-
-"But European society is not given to divorce: Countess
-Olenska thought she would be conforming to American
-ideas in asking for her freedom."  It was the first
-time that the young man had pronounced her name
-since he had left Skuytercliff, and he felt the colour rise
-to his cheek.
-
-Mrs. Welland smiled compassionately.  "That is just
-like the extraordinary things that foreigners invent about
-us. They think we dine at two o'clock and countenance
-divorce!  That is why it seems to me so foolish to
-entertain them when they come to New York.  They
-accept our hospitality, and then they go home and
-repeat the same stupid stories."
-
-Archer made no comment on this, and Mrs. Welland
-continued:  "But we do most thoroughly appreciate your
-persuading Ellen to give up the idea.  Her grandmother
-and her uncle Lovell could do nothing with her; both
-of them have written that her changing her mind was
-entirely due to your influence--in fact she said so to
-her grandmother.  She has an unbounded admiration
-for you.  Poor Ellen--she was always a wayward child.
-I wonder what her fate will be?"
-
-"What we've all contrived to make it," he felt like
-answering.  "If you'd all of you rather she should be
-Beaufort's mistress than some decent fellow's wife you've
-certainly gone the right way about it."
-
-He wondered what Mrs. Welland would have said if
-he had uttered the words instead of merely thinking
-them.  He could picture the sudden decomposure of her
-firm placid features, to which a lifelong mastery over
-trifles had given an air of factitious authority.  Traces
-still lingered on them of a fresh beauty like her daughter's;
-and he asked himself if May's face was doomed
-to thicken into the same middle-aged image of invincible
-innocence.
-
-Ah, no, he did not want May to have that kind of
-innocence, the innocence that seals the mind against
-imagination and the heart against experience!
-
-"I verily believe," Mrs. Welland continued, "that if
-the horrible business had come out in the newspapers it
-would have been my husband's death-blow.  I don't
-know any of the details; I only ask not to, as I told
-poor Ellen when she tried to talk to me about it.
-Having an invalid to care for, I have to keep my mind
-bright and happy.  But Mr. Welland was terribly upset;
-he had a slight temperature every morning while we
-were waiting to hear what had been decided.  It was the
-horror of his girl's learning that such things were
-possible--but of course, dear Newland, you felt that
-too.  We all knew that you were thinking of May."
-
-"I'm always thinking of May," the young man
-rejoined, rising to cut short the conversation.
-
-He had meant to seize the opportunity of his private
-talk with Mrs. Welland to urge her to advance the date
-of his marriage.  But he could think of no arguments
-that would move her, and with a sense of relief he saw
-Mr. Welland and May driving up to the door.
-
-His only hope was to plead again with May, and on
-the day before his departure he walked with her to the
-ruinous garden of the Spanish Mission.  The background
-lent itself to allusions to European scenes; and May,
-who was looking her loveliest under a wide-brimmed
-hat that cast a shadow of mystery over her too-clear
-eyes, kindled into eagerness as he spoke of Granada
-and the Alhambra.
-
-"We might be seeing it all this spring--even the
-Easter ceremonies at Seville," he urged, exaggerating
-his demands in the hope of a larger concession.
-
-"Easter in Seville?  And it will be Lent next week!"
-she laughed.
-
-"Why shouldn't we be married in Lent?" he
-rejoined; but she looked so shocked that he saw his
-mistake.
-
-"Of course I didn't mean that, dearest; but soon
-after Easter--so that we could sail at the end of April.  I
-know I could arrange it at the office."
-
-She smiled dreamily upon the possibility; but he
-perceived that to dream of it sufficed her.  It was like
-hearing him read aloud out of his poetry books the
-beautiful things that could not possibly happen in real
-life.
-
-"Oh, do go on, Newland; I do love your descriptions."
-
-"But why should they be only descriptions?  Why
-shouldn't we make them real?"
-
-"We shall, dearest, of course; next year."  Her voice
-lingered over it.
-
-"Don't you want them to be real sooner?  Can't I
-persuade you to break away now?"
-
-She bowed her head, vanishing from him under her
-conniving hat-brim.
-
-"Why should we dream away another year?  Look at
-me, dear!  Don't you understand how I want you for
-my wife?"
-
-For a moment she remained motionless; then she
-raised on him eyes of such despairing dearness that he
-half-released her waist from his hold.  But suddenly her
-look changed and deepened inscrutably.  "I'm not sure
-if I DO understand," she said.  "Is it--is it because
-you're not certain of continuing to care for me?"
-
-Archer sprang up from his seat.  "My God--perhaps--I
-don't know," he broke out angrily.
-
-May Welland rose also; as they faced each other she
-seemed to grow in womanly stature and dignity.  Both
-were silent for a moment, as if dismayed by the unforeseen
-trend of their words: then she said in a low voice:
-"If that is it--is there some one else?"
-
-"Some one else--between you and me?"  He echoed
-her words slowly, as though they were only half-
-intelligible and he wanted time to repeat the question
-to himself.  She seemed to catch the uncertainty of his
-voice, for she went on in a deepening tone:  "Let us
-talk frankly, Newland.  Sometimes I've felt a difference
-in you; especially since our engagement has been
-announced."
-
-"Dear--what madness!" he recovered himself to
-exclaim.
-
-She met his protest with a faint smile.  "If it is, it
-won't hurt us to talk about it."  She paused, and added,
-lifting her head with one of her noble movements:  "Or
-even if it's true: why shouldn't we speak of it?  You
-might so easily have made a mistake."
-
-He lowered his head, staring at the black leaf-pattern
-on the sunny path at their feet.  "Mistakes are always
-easy to make; but if I had made one of the kind you
-suggest, is it likely that I should be imploring you to
-hasten our marriage?"
-
-She looked downward too, disturbing the pattern
-with the point of her sunshade while she struggled for
-expression.  "Yes," she said at length.  "You might want--
-once for all--to settle the question: it's one way."
-
-Her quiet lucidity startled him, but did not mislead
-him into thinking her insensible.  Under her hat-brim he
-saw the pallor of her profile, and a slight tremor of the
-nostril above her resolutely steadied lips.
-
-"Well--?" he questioned, sitting down on the bench,
-and looking up at her with a frown that he tried to
-make playful.
-
-She dropped back into her seat and went on:  "You
-mustn't think that a girl knows as little as her parents
-imagine.  One hears and one notices--one has one's
-feelings and ideas.  And of course, long before you told
-me that you cared for me, I'd known that there was
-some one else you were interested in; every one was
-talking about it two years ago at Newport.  And once I
-saw you sitting together on the verandah at a dance--
-and when she came back into the house her face was
-sad, and I felt sorry for her; I remembered it afterward,
-when we were engaged."
-
-Her voice had sunk almost to a whisper, and she sat
-clasping and unclasping her hands about the handle of
-her sunshade.  The young man laid his upon them with
-a gentle pressure; his heart dilated with an inexpressible relief.
-
-"My dear child--was THAT it?  If you only knew the
-truth!"
-
-She raised her head quickly.  "Then there is a truth I
-don't know?"
-
-He kept his hand over hers.  "I meant, the truth
-about the old story you speak of."
-
-"But that's what I want to know, Newland--what I
-ought to know.  I couldn't have my happiness made out
-of a wrong--an unfairness--to somebody else.  And I
-want to believe that it would be the same with you.
-What sort of a life could we build on such foundations?"
-
-Her face had taken on a look of such tragic courage
-that he felt like bowing himself down at her feet.  "I've
-wanted to say this for a long time," she went on.  "I've
-wanted to tell you that, when two people really love
-each other, I understand that there may be situations
-which make it right that they should--should go against
-public opinion.  And if you feel yourself in any way
-pledged . . . pledged to the person we've spoken of . . .
-and if there is any way . . . any way in which you can
-fulfill your pledge . . . even by her getting a divorce
-. . .  Newland, don't give her up because of me!"
-
-His surprise at discovering that her fears had
-fastened upon an episode so remote and so completely of
-the past as his love-affair with Mrs. Thorley Rushworth
-gave way to wonder at the generosity of her view.
-There was something superhuman in an attitude so
-recklessly unorthodox, and if other problems had not
-pressed on him he would have been lost in wonder at
-the prodigy of the Wellands' daughter urging him to
-marry his former mistress.  But he was still dizzy with
-the glimpse of the precipice they had skirted, and full
-of a new awe at the mystery of young-girlhood.
-
-For a moment he could not speak; then he said:
-"There is no pledge--no obligation whatever--of the
-kind you think.  Such cases don't always--present themselves
-quite as simply as . . . But that's no matter . . . I
-love your generosity, because I feel as you do about
-those things . . . I feel that each case must be judged
-individually, on its own merits . . . irrespective of stupid
-conventionalities . . . I mean, each woman's right
-to her liberty--"  He pulled himself up, startled by the
-turn his thoughts had taken, and went on, looking at
-her with a smile:  "Since you understand so many things,
-dearest, can't you go a little farther, and understand
-the uselessness of our submitting to another form of
-the same foolish conventionalities?  If there's no one
-and nothing between us, isn't that an argument for
-marrying quickly, rather than for more delay?"
-
-She flushed with joy and lifted her face to his; as he
-bent to it he saw that her eyes were full of happy tears.
-But in another moment she seemed to have descended
-from her womanly eminence to helpless and timorous
-girlhood; and he understood that her courage and
-initiative were all for others, and that she had none for
-herself.  It was evident that the effort of speaking had
-been much greater than her studied composure betrayed,
-and that at his first word of reassurance she had dropped
-back into the usual, as a too-adventurous child takes
-refuge in its mother's arms.
-
-Archer had no heart to go on pleading with her; he
-was too much disappointed at the vanishing of the new
-being who had cast that one deep look at him from her
-transparent eyes.  May seemed to be aware of his
-disappointment, but without knowing how to alleviate it;
-and they stood up and walked silently home.
-
-
-
-XVII.
-
-"Your cousin the Countess called on mother while
-you were away," Janey Archer announced to her
-brother on the evening of his return.
-
-The young man, who was dining alone with his
-mother and sister, glanced up in surprise and saw Mrs.
-Archer's gaze demurely bent on her plate.  Mrs. Archer
-did not regard her seclusion from the world as a reason
-for being forgotten by it; and Newland guessed that
-she was slightly annoyed that he should be surprised by
-Madame Olenska's visit.
-
-"She had on a black velvet polonaise with jet
-buttons, and a tiny green monkey muff; I never saw her so
-stylishly dressed," Janey continued.  "She came alone,
-early on Sunday afternoon; luckily the fire was lit in
-the drawing-room.  She had one of those new card-
-cases.  She said she wanted to know us because you'd
-been so good to her."
-
-Newland laughed.  "Madame Olenska always takes
-that tone about her friends.  She's very happy at being
-among her own people again."
-
-"Yes, so she told us," said Mrs. Archer.  "I must say
-she seems thankful to be here."
-
-"I hope you liked her, mother."
-
-Mrs. Archer drew her lips together.  "She certainly
-lays herself out to please, even when she is calling on
-an old lady."
-
-"Mother doesn't think her simple," Janey interjected,
-her eyes screwed upon her brother's face.
-
-"It's just my old-fashioned feeling; dear May is my
-ideal," said Mrs. Archer.
-
-"Ah," said her son, "they're not alike."
-
-
-Archer had left St. Augustine charged with many
-messages for old Mrs. Mingott; and a day or two after his
-return to town he called on her.
-
-The old lady received him with unusual warmth; she
-was grateful to him for persuading the Countess Olenska
-to give up the idea of a divorce; and when he told her
-that he had deserted the office without leave, and rushed
-down to St. Augustine simply because he wanted to see
-May, she gave an adipose chuckle and patted his knee
-with her puff-ball hand.
-
-"Ah, ah--so you kicked over the traces, did you?
-And I suppose Augusta and Welland pulled long faces,
-and behaved as if the end of the world had come?  But
-little May--she knew better, I'll be bound?"
-
-"I hoped she did; but after all she wouldn't agree to
-what I'd gone down to ask for."
-
-"Wouldn't she indeed?  And what was that?"
-
-"I wanted to get her to promise that we should be
-married in April.  What's the use of our wasting another year?"
-
-Mrs. Manson Mingott screwed up her little mouth
-into a grimace of mimic prudery and twinkled at him
-through malicious lids.  "`Ask Mamma,' I suppose--
-the usual story.  Ah, these Mingotts--all alike!  Born in
-a rut, and you can't root 'em out of it.  When I built
-this house you'd have thought I was moving to California!
-Nobody ever HAD built above Fortieth Street--no,
-says I, nor above the Battery either, before Christopher
-Columbus discovered America.  No, no; not one of
-them wants to be different; they're as scared of it as the
-small-pox.  Ah, my dear Mr. Archer, I thank my stars
-I'm nothing but a vulgar Spicer; but there's not one of
-my own children that takes after me but my little
-Ellen."  She broke off, still twinkling at him, and asked,
-with the casual irrelevance of old age:  "Now, why in
-the world didn't you marry my little Ellen?"
-
-Archer laughed.  "For one thing, she wasn't there to
-be married."
-
-"No--to be sure; more's the pity.  And now it's too
-late; her life is finished."  She spoke with the cold-
-blooded complacency of the aged throwing earth into
-the grave of young hopes.  The young man's heart grew
-chill, and he said hurriedly:  "Can't I persuade you to
-use your influence with the Wellands, Mrs. Mingott?  I
-wasn't made for long engagements."
-
-Old Catherine beamed on him approvingly.  "No; I
-can see that.  You've got a quick eye.  When you were a
-little boy I've no doubt you liked to be helped first."
-She threw back her head with a laugh that made her
-chins ripple like little waves.  "Ah, here's my Ellen
-now!" she exclaimed, as the portieres parted behind
-her.
-
-Madame Olenska came forward with a smile.  Her
-face looked vivid and happy, and she held out her hand
-gaily to Archer while she stooped to her grandmother's
-kiss.
-
-"I was just saying to him, my dear:  `Now, why
-didn't you marry my little Ellen?'"
-
-Madame Olenska looked at Archer, still smiling.  "And
-what did he answer?"
-
-"Oh, my darling, I leave you to find that out!  He's
-been down to Florida to see his sweetheart."
-
-"Yes, I know."  She still looked at him.  "I went to see
-your mother, to ask where you'd gone.  I sent a note
-that you never answered, and I was afraid you were
-ill."
-
-He muttered something about leaving unexpectedly,
-in a great hurry, and having intended to write to her
-from St. Augustine.
-
-"And of course once you were there you never thought
-of me again!"  She continued to beam on him with a
-gaiety that might have been a studied assumption of
-indifference.
-
-"If she still needs me, she's determined not to let me
-see it," he thought, stung by her manner.  He wanted to
-thank her for having been to see his mother, but under
-the ancestress's malicious eye he felt himself tongue-
-tied and constrained.
-
-"Look at him--in such hot haste to get married that
-he took French leave and rushed down to implore the
-silly girl on his knees!  That's something like a lover--
-that's the way handsome Bob Spicer carried off my
-poor mother; and then got tired of her before I was
-weaned--though they only had to wait eight months
-for me!  But there--you're not a Spicer, young man;
-luckily for you and for May.  It's only my poor Ellen
-that has kept any of their wicked blood; the rest of
-them are all model Mingotts," cried the old lady
-scornfully.
-
-Archer was aware that Madame Olenska, who had
-seated herself at her grandmother's side, was still
-thoughtfully scrutinising him.  The gaiety had faded
-from her eyes, and she said with great gentleness:  "Surely,
-Granny, we can persuade them between us to do as he
-wishes."
-
-Archer rose to go, and as his hand met Madame
-Olenska's he felt that she was waiting for him to make
-some allusion to her unanswered letter.
-
-"When can I see you?" he asked, as she walked with
-him to the door of the room.
-
-"Whenever you like; but it must be soon if you want
-to see the little house again.  I am moving next week."
-
-A pang shot through him at the memory of his
-lamplit hours in the low-studded drawing-room.  Few
-as they had been, they were thick with memories.
-
-"Tomorrow evening?"
-
-She nodded.  "Tomorrow; yes; but early.  I'm going
-out."
-
-The next day was a Sunday, and if she were "going
-out" on a Sunday evening it could, of course, be only
-to Mrs. Lemuel Struthers's.  He felt a slight movement
-of annoyance, not so much at her going there (for he
-rather liked her going where she pleased in spite of the
-van der Luydens), but because it was the kind of house
-at which she was sure to meet Beaufort, where she
-must have known beforehand that she would meet
-him--and where she was probably going for that
-purpose.
-
-"Very well; tomorrow evening," he repeated, inwardly
-resolved that he would not go early, and that by reaching
-her door late he would either prevent her from
-going to Mrs. Struthers's, or else arrive after she had
-started--which, all things considered, would no doubt
-be the simplest solution.
-
-
-It was only half-past eight, after all, when he rang the
-bell under the wisteria; not as late as he had intended
-by half an hour--but a singular restlessness had driven
-him to her door.  He reflected, however, that Mrs.
-Struthers's Sunday evenings were not like a ball, and
-that her guests, as if to minimise their delinquency,
-usually went early.
-
-The one thing he had not counted on, in entering
-Madame Olenska's hall, was to find hats and overcoats
-there.  Why had she bidden him to come early if she
-was having people to dine?  On a closer inspection of
-the garments besides which Nastasia was laying his
-own, his resentment gave way to curiosity.  The overcoats
-were in fact the very strangest he had ever seen
-under a polite roof; and it took but a glance to assure
-himself that neither of them belonged to Julius Beaufort.
-One was a shaggy yellow ulster of "reach-me-
-down" cut, the other a very old and rusty cloak with a
-cape--something like what the French called a "Macfarlane."
-This garment, which appeared to be made for
-a person of prodigious size, had evidently seen long
-and hard wear, and its greenish-black folds gave out a
-moist sawdusty smell suggestive of prolonged sessions
-against bar-room walls.  On it lay a ragged grey scarf
-and an odd felt hat of semiclerical shape.
-
-Archer raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Nastasia,
-who raised hers in return with a fatalistic "Gia!" as
-she threw open the drawing-room door.
-
-The young man saw at once that his hostess was not
-in the room; then, with surprise, he discovered another
-lady standing by the fire.  This lady, who was long, lean
-and loosely put together, was clad in raiment intricately
-looped and fringed, with plaids and stripes and
-bands of plain colour disposed in a design to which the
-clue seemed missing.  Her hair, which had tried to turn
-white and only succeeded in fading, was surmounted
-by a Spanish comb and black lace scarf, and silk mittens,
-visibly darned, covered her rheumatic hands.
-
-Beside her, in a cloud of cigar-smoke, stood the
-owners of the two overcoats, both in morning clothes
-that they had evidently not taken off since morning.  In
-one of the two, Archer, to his surprise, recognised Ned
-Winsett; the other and older, who was unknown to
-him, and whose gigantic frame declared him to be the
-wearer of the "Macfarlane," had a feebly leonine head
-with crumpled grey hair, and moved his arms with
-large pawing gestures, as though he were distributing
-lay blessings to a kneeling multitude.
-
-These three persons stood together on the hearth-
-rug, their eyes fixed on an extraordinarily large bouquet
-of crimson roses, with a knot of purple pansies at
-their base, that lay on the sofa where Madame Olenska
-usually sat.
-
-"What they must have cost at this season--though of
-course it's the sentiment one cares about!" the lady was
-saying in a sighing staccato as Archer came in.
-
-The three turned with surprise at his appearance,
-and the lady, advancing, held out her hand.
-
-"Dear Mr. Archer--almost my cousin Newland!"
-she said.  "I am the Marchioness Manson."
-
-Archer bowed, and she continued:  "My Ellen has
-taken me in for a few days.  I came from Cuba, where I
-have been spending the winter with Spanish friends--
-such delightful distinguished people: the highest nobility
-of old Castile--how I wish you could know them!
-But I was called away by our dear great friend here,
-Dr. Carver.  You don't know Dr. Agathon Carver,
-founder of the Valley of Love Community?"
-
-Dr. Carver inclined his leonine head, and the
-Marchioness continued:  "Ah, New York--New York--how
-little the life of the spirit has reached it!  But I see you
-do know Mr. Winsett."
-
-"Oh, yes--I reached him some time ago; but not by
-that route," Winsett said with his dry smile.
-
-The Marchioness shook her head reprovingly.  "How
-do you know, Mr. Winsett?  The spirit bloweth where it
-listeth."
-
-"List--oh, list!" interjected Dr. Carver in a stentorian
-murmur.
-
-"But do sit down, Mr. Archer.  We four have been
-having a delightful little dinner together, and my child
-has gone up to dress.  She expects you; she will be
-down in a moment.  We were just admiring these marvellous
-flowers, which will surprise her when she
-reappears."
-
-Winsett remained on his feet.  "I'm afraid I must be
-off.  Please tell Madame Olenska that we shall all feel
-lost when she abandons our street.  This house has been
-an oasis."
-
-"Ah, but she won't abandon YOU.  Poetry and art are
-the breath of life to her.  It IS poetry you write, Mr.
-Winsett?"
-
-"Well, no; but I sometimes read it," said Winsett,
-including the group in a general nod and slipping out
-of the room.
-
-"A caustic spirit--un peu sauvage.  But so witty; Dr.
-Carver, you DO think him witty?"
-
-"I never think of wit," said Dr. Carver severely.
-
-"Ah--ah--you never think of wit!  How merciless he
-is to us weak mortals, Mr. Archer!  But he lives only in
-the life of the spirit; and tonight he is mentally preparing
-the lecture he is to deliver presently at Mrs. Blenker's.
-Dr. Carver, would there be time, before you start for
-the Blenkers' to explain to Mr. Archer your illuminating
-discovery of the Direct Contact?  But no; I see it is
-nearly nine o'clock, and we have no right to detain you
-while so many are waiting for your message."
-
-Dr. Carver looked slightly disappointed at this
-conclusion, but, having compared his ponderous gold time-
-piece with Madame Olenska's little travelling-clock, he
-reluctantly gathered up his mighty limbs for departure.
-
-"I shall see you later, dear friend?" he suggested to
-the Marchioness, who replied with a smile:  "As soon
-as Ellen's carriage comes I will join you; I do hope the
-lecture won't have begun."
-
-Dr. Carver looked thoughtfully at Archer.  "Perhaps,
-if this young gentleman is interested in my experiences,
-Mrs. Blenker might allow you to bring him with you?"
-
-"Oh, dear friend, if it were possible--I am sure she
-would be too happy.  But I fear my Ellen counts on Mr.
-Archer herself."
-
-"That," said Dr. Carver, "is unfortunate--but here
-is my card."  He handed it to Archer, who read on it, in
-Gothic characters:
-
-
-|---------------------------|
-|      Agathon Carver       |
-|    The Valley of Love     |
-|   Kittasquattamy, N. Y.   |
-|---------------------------|
-
-
-Dr. Carver bowed himself out, and Mrs. Manson,
-with a sigh that might have been either of regret or
-relief, again waved Archer to a seat.
-
-"Ellen will be down in a moment; and before she
-comes, I am so glad of this quiet moment with you."
-
-Archer murmured his pleasure at their meeting, and
-the Marchioness continued, in her low sighing accents:
-"I know everything, dear Mr. Archer--my child has
-told me all you have done for her.  Your wise advice:
-your courageous firmness--thank heaven it was not
-too late!"
-
-The young man listened with considerable
-embarrassment.  Was there any one, he wondered, to whom
-Madame Olenska had not proclaimed his intervention
-in her private affairs?
-
-"Madame Olenska exaggerates; I simply gave her a
-legal opinion, as she asked me to."
-
-"Ah, but in doing it--in doing it you were the
-unconscious instrument of--of--what word have we moderns
-for Providence, Mr. Archer?" cried the lady, tilting
-her head on one side and drooping her lids mysteriously.
-"Little did you know that at that very moment I
-was being appealed to: being approached, in fact--from
-the other side of the Atlantic!"
-
-She glanced over her shoulder, as though fearful of
-being overheard, and then, drawing her chair nearer,
-and raising a tiny ivory fan to her lips, breathed behind
-it:  "By the Count himself--my poor, mad, foolish
-Olenski; who asks only to take her back on her own
-terms."
-
-"Good God!" Archer exclaimed, springing up.
-
-"You are horrified?  Yes, of course; I understand.  I
-don't defend poor Stanislas, though he has always called
-me his best friend.  He does not defend himself--he
-casts himself at her feet: in my person."  She tapped her
-emaciated bosom.  "I have his letter here."
-
-"A letter?--Has Madame Olenska seen it?" Archer
-stammered, his brain whirling with the shock of the
-announcement.
-
-The Marchioness Manson shook her head softly.
-"Time--time; I must have time.  I know my Ellen--
-haughty, intractable; shall I say, just a shade
-unforgiving?"
-
-"But, good heavens, to forgive is one thing; to go
-back into that hell--"
-
-"Ah, yes," the Marchioness acquiesced.  "So she
-describes it--my sensitive child!  But on the material side,
-Mr. Archer, if one may stoop to consider such things;
-do you know what she is giving up?  Those roses there
-on the sofa--acres like them, under glass and in the
-open, in his matchless terraced gardens at Nice!  Jewels--
-historic pearls: the Sobieski emeralds--sables,--but she
-cares nothing for all these!  Art and beauty, those she
-does care for, she lives for, as I always have; and those
-also surrounded her.  Pictures, priceless furniture, music,
-brilliant conversation--ah, that, my dear young
-man, if you'll excuse me, is what you've no conception
-of here!  And she had it all; and the homage of the
-greatest.  She tells me she is not thought handsome in
-New York--good heavens!  Her portrait has been painted
-nine times; the greatest artists in Europe have begged
-for the privilege.  Are these things nothing?  And the
-remorse of an adoring husband?"
-
-As the Marchioness Manson rose to her climax her
-face assumed an expression of ecstatic retrospection
-which would have moved Archer's mirth had he not
-been numb with amazement.
-
-He would have laughed if any one had foretold to
-him that his first sight of poor Medora Manson would
-have been in the guise of a messenger of Satan; but he
-was in no mood for laughing now, and she seemed to
-him to come straight out of the hell from which Ellen
-Olenska had just escaped.
-
-"She knows nothing yet--of all this?" he asked
-abruptly.
-
-Mrs. Manson laid a purple finger on her lips.
-"Nothing directly--but does she suspect?  Who can tell?  The
-truth is, Mr. Archer, I have been waiting to see you.
-From the moment I heard of the firm stand you had
-taken, and of your influence over her, I hoped it might
-be possible to count on your support--to convince
-you . . ."
-
-"That she ought to go back?  I would rather see her
-dead!" cried the young man violently.
-
-"Ah," the Marchioness murmured, without visible
-resentment.  For a while she sat in her arm-chair, opening
-and shutting the absurd ivory fan between her
-mittened fingers; but suddenly she lifted her head and
-listened.
-
-"Here she comes," she said in a rapid whisper; and
-then, pointing to the bouquet on the sofa:  "Am I to
-understand that you prefer THAT, Mr. Archer?  After all,
-marriage is marriage . . . and my niece is still a wife. . ."
-
-
-
-XVIII.
-
-"What are you two plotting together, aunt Medora?"
-Madame Olenska cried as she came into the room.
-
-She was dressed as if for a ball.  Everything about her
-shimmered and glimmered softly, as if her dress had
-been woven out of candle-beams; and she carried her
-head high, like a pretty woman challenging a roomful
-of rivals.
-
-"We were saying, my dear, that here was something
-beautiful to surprise you with," Mrs. Manson rejoined,
-rising to her feet and pointing archly to the flowers.
-
-Madame Olenska stopped short and looked at the
-bouquet.  Her colour did not change, but a sort of
-white radiance of anger ran over her like summer lightning.
-"Ah," she exclaimed, in a shrill voice that the
-young man had never heard, "who is ridiculous enough
-to send me a bouquet?  Why a bouquet?  And why
-tonight of all nights?  I am not going to a ball; I am not
-a girl engaged to be married.  But some people are
-always ridiculous."
-
-She turned back to the door, opened it, and called
-out:  "Nastasia!"
-
-The ubiquitous handmaiden promptly appeared, and
-Archer heard Madame Olenska say, in an Italian that
-she seemed to pronounce with intentional deliberateness
-in order that he might follow it:  "Here--throw
-this into the dustbin!" and then, as Nastasia stared
-protestingly:  "But no--it's not the fault of the poor
-flowers.  Tell the boy to carry them to the house three
-doors away, the house of Mr. Winsett, the dark gentleman
-who dined here.  His wife is ill--they may give her
-pleasure . . . The boy is out, you say?  Then, my dear
-one, run yourself; here, put my cloak over you and fly.
-I want the thing out of the house immediately!  And, as
-you live, don't say they come from me!"
-
-She flung her velvet opera cloak over the maid's
-shoulders and turned back into the drawing-room, shutting
-the door sharply.  Her bosom was rising high under
-its lace, and for a moment Archer thought she was
-about to cry; but she burst into a laugh instead, and
-looking from the Marchioness to Archer, asked abruptly:
-"And you two--have you made friends!"
-
-"It's for Mr. Archer to say, darling; he has waited
-patiently while you were dressing."
-
-"Yes--I gave you time enough: my hair wouldn't
-go," Madame Olenska said, raising her hand to the
-heaped-up curls of her chignon.  "But that reminds me:
-I see Dr. Carver is gone, and you'll be late at the
-Blenkers'.  Mr. Archer, will you put my aunt in the
-carriage?"
-
-She followed the Marchioness into the hall, saw her
-fitted into a miscellaneous heap of overshoes, shawls
-and tippets, and called from the doorstep:  "Mind, the
-carriage is to be back for me at ten!"  Then she returned
-to the drawing-room, where Archer, on re-entering it,
-found her standing by the mantelpiece, examining herself
-in the mirror.  It was not usual, in New York
-society, for a lady to address her parlour-maid as "my
-dear one," and send her out on an errand wrapped in
-her own opera-cloak; and Archer, through all his deeper
-feelings, tasted the pleasurable excitement of being in a
-world where action followed on emotion with such
-Olympian speed.
-
-Madame Olenska did not move when he came up
-behind her, and for a second their eyes met in the
-mirror; then she turned, threw herself into her sofa-
-corner, and sighed out:  "There's time for a cigarette."
-
-He handed her the box and lit a spill for her; and as
-the flame flashed up into her face she glanced at him
-with laughing eyes and said:  "What do you think of me
-in a temper?"
-
-Archer paused a moment; then he answered with
-sudden resolution:  "It makes me understand what your
-aunt has been saying about you."
-
-"I knew she'd been talking about me.  Well?"
-
-"She said you were used to all kinds of things--
-splendours and amusements and excitements--that we
-could never hope to give you here."
-
-Madame Olenska smiled faintly into the circle of
-smoke about her lips.
-
-"Medora is incorrigibly romantic.  It has made up to
-her for so many things!"
-
-Archer hesitated again, and again took his risk.  "Is your
-aunt's romanticism always consistent with accuracy?"
-
-"You mean: does she speak the truth?"  Her niece
-considered.  "Well, I'll tell you: in almost everything she
-says, there's something true and something untrue.  But
-why do you ask?  What has she been telling you?"
-
-He looked away into the fire, and then back at her
-shining presence.  His heart tightened with the thought
-that this was their last evening by that fireside, and that
-in a moment the carriage would come to carry her away.
-
-"She says--she pretends that Count Olenski has asked
-her to persuade you to go back to him."
-
-Madame Olenska made no answer.  She sat motionless,
-holding her cigarette in her half-lifted hand.  The
-expression of her face had not changed; and Archer
-remembered that he had before noticed her apparent
-incapacity for surprise.
-
-"You knew, then?" he broke out.
-
-She was silent for so long that the ash dropped from
-her cigarette.  She brushed it to the floor.  "She has
-hinted about a letter: poor darling!  Medora's hints--"
-
-"Is it at your husband's request that she has arrived
-here suddenly?"
-
-Madame Olenska seemed to consider this question
-also.  "There again: one can't tell.  She told me she had
-had a `spiritual summons,' whatever that is, from Dr.
-Carver.  I'm afraid she's going to marry Dr. Carver . . .
-poor Medora, there's always some one she wants to
-marry.  But perhaps the people in Cuba just got tired of
-her!  I think she was with them as a sort of paid
-companion.  Really, I don't know why she came."
-
-"But you do believe she has a letter from your
-husband?"
-
-Again Madame Olenska brooded silently; then she
-said:  "After all, it was to be expected."
-
-The young man rose and went to lean against the
-fireplace.  A sudden restlessness possessed him, and he
-was tongue-tied by the sense that their minutes were
-numbered, and that at any moment he might hear the
-wheels of the returning carriage.
-
-"You know that your aunt believes you will go back?"
-
-Madame Olenska raised her head quickly.  A deep
-blush rose to her face and spread over her neck and
-shoulders.  She blushed seldom and painfully, as if it
-hurt her like a burn.
-
-"Many cruel things have been believed of me," she
-said.
-
-"Oh, Ellen--forgive me; I'm a fool and a brute!"
-
-She smiled a little.  "You are horribly nervous; you
-have your own troubles.  I know you think the Wellands
-are unreasonable about your marriage, and of
-course I agree with you.  In Europe people don't understand
-our long American engagements; I suppose they
-are not as calm as we are."  She pronounced the "we"
-with a faint emphasis that gave it an ironic sound.
-
-Archer felt the irony but did not dare to take it up.
-After all, she had perhaps purposely deflected the
-conversation from her own affairs, and after the pain his
-last words had evidently caused her he felt that all he
-could do was to follow her lead.  But the sense of the
-waning hour made him desperate: he could not bear
-the thought that a barrier of words should drop
-between them again.
-
-"Yes," he said abruptly; "I went south to ask May
-to marry me after Easter.  There's no reason why we
-shouldn't be married then."
-
-"And May adores you--and yet you couldn't convince
-her?  I thought her too intelligent to be the slave
-of such absurd superstitions."
-
-"She IS too intelligent--she's not their slave."
-
-Madame Olenska looked at him.  "Well, then--I don't
-understand."
-
-Archer reddened, and hurried on with a rush.  "We
-had a frank talk--almost the first.  She thinks my
-impatience a bad sign."
-
-"Merciful heavens--a bad sign?"
-
-"She thinks it means that I can't trust myself to go
-on caring for her.  She thinks, in short, I want to marry
-her at once to get away from some one that I--care for
-more."
-
-Madame Olenska examined this curiously.  "But if
-she thinks that--why isn't she in a hurry too?"
-
-"Because she's not like that: she's so much nobler.
-She insists all the more on the long engagement, to give
-me time--"
-
-"Time to give her up for the other woman?"
-
-"If I want to."
-
-Madame Olenska leaned toward the fire and gazed
-into it with fixed eyes.  Down the quiet street Archer
-heard the approaching trot of her horses.
-
-"That IS noble," she said, with a slight break in her
-voice.
-
-"Yes.  But it's ridiculous."
-
-"Ridiculous?  Because you don't care for any one
-else?"
-
-"Because I don't mean to marry any one else."
-
-"Ah."  There was another long interval.  At length she
-looked up at him and asked:  "This other woman--
-does she love you?"
-
-"Oh, there's no other woman; I mean, the person
-that May was thinking of is--was never--"
-
-"Then, why, after all, are you in such haste?"
-
-"There's your carriage," said Archer.
-
-She half-rose and looked about her with absent eyes.
-Her fan and gloves lay on the sofa beside her and she
-picked them up mechanically.
-
-"Yes; I suppose I must be going."
-
-"You're going to Mrs. Struthers's?"
-
-"Yes."  She smiled and added:  "I must go where I am
-invited, or I should be too lonely.  Why not come with
-me?"
-
-Archer felt that at any cost he must keep her beside
-him, must make her give him the rest of her evening.
-Ignoring her question, he continued to lean against the
-chimney-piece, his eyes fixed on the hand in which she
-held her gloves and fan, as if watching to see if he had
-the power to make her drop them.
-
-"May guessed the truth," he said.  "There is another
-woman--but not the one she thinks."
-
-Ellen Olenska made no answer, and did not move.
-After a moment he sat down beside her, and, taking
-her hand, softly unclasped it, so that the gloves and fan
-fell on the sofa between them.
-
-She started up, and freeing herself from him moved
-away to the other side of the hearth.  "Ah, don't make
-love to me!  Too many people have done that," she
-said, frowning.
-
-Archer, changing colour, stood up also: it was the
-bitterest rebuke she could have given him.  "I have
-never made love to you," he said, "and I never shall.
-But you are the woman I would have married if it had
-been possible for either of us."
-
-"Possible for either of us?"  She looked at him with
-unfeigned astonishment.  "And you say that--when it's
-you who've made it impossible?"
-
-He stared at her, groping in a blackness through
-which a single arrow of light tore its blinding way.
-
-"I'VE made it impossible--?"
-
-"You, you, YOU!" she cried, her lip trembling like a
-child's on the verge of tears.  "Isn't it you who made me
-give up divorcing--give it up because you showed me
-how selfish and wicked it was, how one must sacrifice
-one's self to preserve the dignity of marriage . . . and to
-spare one's family the publicity, the scandal?  And
-because my family was going to be your family--for
-May's sake and for yours--I did what you told me,
-what you proved to me that I ought to do.  Ah," she
-broke out with a sudden laugh, "I've made no secret of
-having done it for you!"
-
-She sank down on the sofa again, crouching among
-the festive ripples of her dress like a stricken masquerader;
-and the young man stood by the fireplace and
-continued to gaze at her without moving.
-
-"Good God," he groaned.  "When I thought--"
-
-"You thought?"
-
-"Ah, don't ask me what I thought!"
-
-Still looking at her, he saw the same burning flush
-creep up her neck to her face.  She sat upright, facing
-him with a rigid dignity.
-
-"I do ask you."
-
-"Well, then: there were things in that letter you
-asked me to read--"
-
-"My husband's letter?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"I had nothing to fear from that letter: absolutely
-nothing!  All I feared was to bring notoriety, scandal,
-on the family--on you and May."
-
-"Good God," he groaned again, bowing his face in
-his hands.
-
-The silence that followed lay on them with the weight
-of things final and irrevocable.  It seemed to Archer to
-be crushing him down like his own grave-stone; in all
-the wide future he saw nothing that would ever lift that
-load from his heart.  He did not move from his place, or
-raise his head from his hands; his hidden eyeballs went
-on staring into utter darkness.
-
-"At least I loved you--" he brought out.
-
-On the other side of the hearth, from the sofa-corner
-where he supposed that she still crouched, he heard a
-faint stifled crying like a child's.  He started up and
-came to her side.
-
-"Ellen!  What madness!  Why are you crying?  Nothing's
-done that can't be undone.  I'm still free, and
-you're going to be."  He had her in his arms, her face
-like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain terrors
-shrivelling up like ghosts at sunrise.  The one thing that
-astonished him now was that he should have stood for
-five minutes arguing with her across the width of the
-room, when just touching her made everything so simple.
-
-She gave him back all his kiss, but after a moment he
-felt her stiffening in his arms, and she put him aside
-and stood up.
-
-"Ah, my poor Newland--I suppose this had to be.
-But it doesn't in the least alter things," she said, looking
-down at him in her turn from the hearth.
-
-"It alters the whole of life for me."
-
-"No, no--it mustn't, it can't.  You're engaged to
-May Welland; and I'm married."
-
-He stood up too, flushed and resolute.  "Nonsense!
-It's too late for that sort of thing.  We've no right to lie
-to other people or to ourselves.  We won't talk of your
-marriage; but do you see me marrying May after this?"
-
-She stood silent, resting her thin elbows on the mantelpiece,
-her profile reflected in the glass behind her.  One
-of the locks of her chignon had become loosened and
-hung on her neck; she looked haggard and almost old.
-
-"I don't see you," she said at length, "putting that
-question to May.  Do you?"
-
-He gave a reckless shrug.  "It's too late to do
-anything else."
-
-"You say that because it's the easiest thing to say at
-this moment--not because it's true.  In reality it's too
-late to do anything but what we'd both decided on."
-
-"Ah, I don't understand you!"
-
-She forced a pitiful smile that pinched her face
-instead of smoothing it.  "You don't understand because
-you haven't yet guessed how you've changed things for
-me: oh, from the first--long before I knew all you'd
-done."
-
-"All I'd done?"
-
-"Yes.  I was perfectly unconscious at first that people
-here were shy of me--that they thought I was a dreadful
-sort of person.  It seems they had even refused to
-meet me at dinner.  I found that out afterward; and
-how you'd made your mother go with you to the van
-der Luydens'; and how you'd insisted on announcing
-your engagement at the Beaufort ball, so that I might
-have two families to stand by me instead of one--"
-
-At that he broke into a laugh.
-
-"Just imagine," she said, "how stupid and unobservant
-I was!  I knew nothing of all this till Granny
-blurted it out one day.  New York simply meant peace
-and freedom to me: it was coming home.  And I was so
-happy at being among my own people that every one I
-met seemed kind and good, and glad to see me.  But
-from the very beginning," she continued, "I felt there
-was no one as kind as you; no one who gave me
-reasons that I understood for doing what at first seemed
-so hard and--unnecessary.  The very good people didn't
-convince me; I felt they'd never been tempted.  But you
-knew; you understood; you had felt the world outside
-tugging at one with all its golden hands--and yet you
-hated the things it asks of one; you hated happiness
-bought by disloyalty and cruelty and indifference.  That
-was what I'd never known before--and it's better than
-anything I've known."
-
-She spoke in a low even voice, without tears or
-visible agitation; and each word, as it dropped from
-her, fell into his breast like burning lead.  He sat bowed
-over, his head between his hands, staring at the hearthrug,
-and at the tip of the satin shoe that showed under
-her dress.  Suddenly he knelt down and kissed the shoe.
-
-She bent over him, laying her hands on his shoulders,
-and looking at him with eyes so deep that he remained
-motionless under her gaze.
-
-"Ah, don't let us undo what you've done!" she cried.
-"I can't go back now to that other way of thinking.  I
-can't love you unless I give you up."
-
-His arms were yearning up to her; but she drew
-away, and they remained facing each other, divided by
-the distance that her words had created.  Then, abruptly,
-his anger overflowed.
-
-"And Beaufort?  Is he to replace me?"
-
-As the words sprang out he was prepared for an
-answering flare of anger; and he would have welcomed
-it as fuel for his own.  But Madame Olenska only grew
-a shade paler, and stood with her arms hanging down
-before her, and her head slightly bent, as her way was
-when she pondered a question.
-
-"He's waiting for you now at Mrs. Struthers's; why
-don't you go to him?" Archer sneered.
-
-She turned to ring the bell.  "I shall not go out this
-evening; tell the carriage to go and fetch the Signora
-Marchesa," she said when the maid came.
-
-After the door had closed again Archer continued to
-look at her with bitter eyes.  "Why this sacrifice?  Since
-you tell me that you're lonely I've no right to keep you
-from your friends."
-
-She smiled a little under her wet lashes.  "I shan't be
-lonely now.  I WAS lonely; I WAS afraid.  But the emptiness
-and the darkness are gone; when I turn back into
-myself now I'm like a child going at night into a room
-where there's always a light."
-
-Her tone and her look still enveloped her in a soft
-inaccessibility, and Archer groaned out again:  "I don't
-understand you!"
-
-"Yet you understand May!"
-
-He reddened under the retort, but kept his eyes on
-her.  "May is ready to give me up."
-
-"What!  Three days after you've entreated her on
-your knees to hasten your marriage?"
-
-"She's refused; that gives me the right--"
-
-"Ah, you've taught me what an ugly word that is,"
-she said.
-
-He turned away with a sense of utter weariness.  He
-felt as though he had been struggling for hours up the
-face of a steep precipice, and now, just as he had
-fought his way to the top, his hold had given way and
-he was pitching down headlong into darkness.
-
-If he could have got her in his arms again he might
-have swept away her arguments; but she still held him
-at a distance by something inscrutably aloof in her look
-and attitude, and by his own awed sense of her sincerity.
-At length he began to plead again.
-
-"If we do this now it will be worse afterward--worse
-for every one--"
-
-"No--no--no!" she almost screamed, as if he frightened her.
-
-At that moment the bell sent a long tinkle through
-the house.  They had heard no carriage stopping at the
-door, and they stood motionless, looking at each other
-with startled eyes.
-
-Outside, Nastasia's step crossed the hall, the outer
-door opened, and a moment later she came in carrying
-a telegram which she handed to the Countess Olenska.
-
-"The lady was very happy at the flowers," Nastasia
-said, smoothing her apron.  "She thought it was her
-signor marito who had sent them, and she cried a little
-and said it was a folly."
-
-Her mistress smiled and took the yellow envelope.
-She tore it open and carried it to the lamp; then, when
-the door had closed again, she handed the telegram to
-Archer.
-
-It was dated from St. Augustine, and addressed to
-the Countess Olenska.  In it he read:  "Granny's telegram
-successful.  Papa and Mamma agree marriage after
-Easter.  Am telegraphing Newland.  Am too happy
-for words and love you dearly.  Your grateful May."
-
-
-Half an hour later, when Archer unlocked his own
-front-door, he found a similar envelope on the hall-table
-on top of his pile of notes and letters.  The message
-inside the envelope was also from May Welland, and
-ran as follows:  "Parents consent wedding Tuesday after
-Easter at twelve Grace Church eight bridesmaids
-please see Rector so happy love May."
-
-Archer crumpled up the yellow sheet as if the gesture
-could annihilate the news it contained.  Then he pulled
-out a small pocket-diary and turned over the pages
-with trembling fingers; but he did not find what he
-wanted, and cramming the telegram into his pocket he
-mounted the stairs.
-
-A light was shining through the door of the little
-hall-room which served Janey as a dressing-room and
-boudoir, and her brother rapped impatiently on the
-panel.  The door opened, and his sister stood before
-him in her immemorial purple flannel dressing-gown,
-with her hair "on pins."  Her face looked pale and
-apprehensive.
-
-"Newland!  I hope there's no bad news in that
-telegram?  I waited on purpose, in case--"  (No item of his
-correspondence was safe from Janey.)
-
-He took no notice of her question.  "Look here--
-what day is Easter this year?"
-
-She looked shocked at such unchristian ignorance.
-"Easter?  Newland!  Why, of course, the first week in
-April.  Why?"
-
-"The first week?"  He turned again to the pages of
-his diary, calculating rapidly under his breath.  "The
-first week, did you say?"  He threw back his head with
-a long laugh.
-
-"For mercy's sake what's the matter?"
-
-"Nothing's the matter, except that I'm going to be
-married in a month."
-
-Janey fell upon his neck and pressed him to her
-purple flannel breast.  "Oh Newland, how wonderful!
-I'm so glad!  But, dearest, why do you keep on laughing?
-Do hush, or you'll wake Mamma."
-
-
-
-
-Book II
-
-
-
-XIX.
-
-The day was fresh, with a lively spring wind full of
-dust.  All the old ladies in both families had got out
-their faded sables and yellowing ermines, and the smell
-of camphor from the front pews almost smothered the
-faint spring scent of the lilies banking the altar.
-
-Newland Archer, at a signal from the sexton, had
-come out of the vestry and placed himself with his best
-man on the chancel step of Grace Church.
-
-The signal meant that the brougham bearing the
-bride and her father was in sight; but there was sure to
-be a considerable interval of adjustment and consultation
-in the lobby, where the bridesmaids were already
-hovering like a cluster of Easter blossoms.  During this
-unavoidable lapse of time the bridegroom, in proof of
-his eagerness, was expected to expose himself alone to
-the gaze of the assembled company; and Archer had
-gone through this formality as resignedly as through all
-the others which made of a nineteenth century New
-York wedding a rite that seemed to belong to the dawn
-of history.  Everything was equally easy--or equally
-painful, as one chose to put it--in the path he was
-committed to tread, and he had obeyed the flurried
-injunctions of his best man as piously as other bridegrooms
-had obeyed his own, in the days when he had
-guided them through the same labyrinth.
-
-So far he was reasonably sure of having fulfilled all
-his obligations.  The bridesmaids' eight bouquets of white
-lilac and lilies-of-the-valley had been sent in due time,
-as well as the gold and sapphire sleeve-links of the
-eight ushers and the best man's cat's-eye scarf-pin;
-Archer had sat up half the night trying to vary the
-wording of his thanks for the last batch of presents
-from men friends and ex-lady-loves; the fees for the
-Bishop and the Rector were safely in the pocket of his
-best man; his own luggage was already at Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's, where the wedding-breakfast was to
-take place, and so were the travelling clothes into which
-he was to change; and a private compartment had been
-engaged in the train that was to carry the young couple
-to their unknown destination--concealment of the spot
-in which the bridal night was to be spent being one of
-the most sacred taboos of the prehistoric ritual.
-
-"Got the ring all right?" whispered young van der
-Luyden Newland, who was inexperienced in the duties
-of a best man, and awed by the weight of his responsibility.
-
-Archer made the gesture which he had seen so many
-bridegrooms make: with his ungloved right hand he
-felt in the pocket of his dark grey waistcoat, and assured
-himself that the little gold circlet (engraved
-inside: Newland to May, April ---, 187-) was in its
-place; then, resuming his former attitude, his tall hat
-and pearl-grey gloves with black stitchings grasped in
-his left hand, he stood looking at the door of the
-church.
-
-Overhead, Handel's March swelled pompously through
-the imitation stone vaulting, carrying on its waves the
-faded drift of the many weddings at which, with cheerful
-indifference, he had stood on the same chancel step
-watching other brides float up the nave toward other
-bridegrooms.
-
-"How like a first night at the Opera!" he thought,
-recognising all the same faces in the same boxes (no,
-pews), and wondering if, when the Last Trump sounded,
-Mrs. Selfridge Merry would be there with the same
-towering ostrich feathers in her bonnet, and Mrs. Beaufort
-with the same diamond earrings and the same
-smile--and whether suitable proscenium seats were
-already prepared for them in another world.
-
-After that there was still time to review, one by one,
-the familiar countenances in the first rows; the women's
-sharp with curiosity and excitement, the men's
-sulky with the obligation of having to put on their
-frock-coats before luncheon, and fight for food at the
-wedding-breakfast.
-
-"Too bad the breakfast is at old Catherine's," the
-bridegroom could fancy Reggie Chivers saying.  "But
-I'm told that Lovell Mingott insisted on its being cooked
-by his own chef, so it ought to be good if one can only
-get at it."  And he could imagine Sillerton Jackson
-adding with authority:  "My dear fellow, haven't you
-heard?  It's to be served at small tables, in the new
-English fashion."
-
-Archer's eyes lingered a moment on the left-hand
-pew, where his mother, who had entered the church on
-Mr. Henry van der Luyden's arm, sat weeping softly
-under her Chantilly veil, her hands in her grandmother's
-ermine muff.
-
-"Poor Janey!" he thought, looking at his sister, "even
-by screwing her head around she can see only the
-people in the few front pews; and they're mostly dowdy
-Newlands and Dagonets."
-
-On the hither side of the white ribbon dividing off
-the seats reserved for the families he saw Beaufort, tall
-and redfaced, scrutinising the women with his arrogant
-stare.  Beside him sat his wife, all silvery chinchilla and
-violets; and on the far side of the ribbon, Lawrence
-Lefferts's sleekly brushed head seemed to mount guard
-over the invisible deity of "Good Form" who presided
-at the ceremony.
-
-Archer wondered how many flaws Lefferts's keen
-eyes would discover in the ritual of his divinity; then he
-suddenly recalled that he too had once thought such
-questions important.  The things that had filled his days
-seemed now like a nursery parody of life, or like the
-wrangles of mediaeval schoolmen over metaphysical terms
-that nobody had ever understood.  A stormy discussion
-as to whether the wedding presents should be "shown"
-had darkened the last hours before the wedding; and it
-seemed inconceivable to Archer that grown-up people
-should work themselves into a state of agitation over
-such trifles, and that the matter should have been decided
-(in the negative) by Mrs. Welland's saying, with
-indignant tears:  "I should as soon turn the reporters
-loose in my house."  Yet there was a time when Archer
-had had definite and rather aggressive opinions on all
-such problems, and when everything concerning the
-manners and customs of his little tribe had seemed to
-him fraught with world-wide significance.
-
-"And all the while, I suppose," he thought, "real
-people were living somewhere, and real things happening
-to them . . ."
-
-"THERE THEY COME!" breathed the best man excitedly;
-but the bridegroom knew better.
-
-The cautious opening of the door of the church
-meant only that Mr. Brown the livery-stable keeper
-(gowned in black in his intermittent character of sexton)
-was taking a preliminary survey of the scene before
-marshalling his forces.  The door was softly shut
-again; then after another interval it swung majestically
-open, and a murmur ran through the church:  "The
-family!"
-
-Mrs. Welland came first, on the arm of her eldest
-son.  Her large pink face was appropriately solemn, and
-her plum-coloured satin with pale blue side-panels, and
-blue ostrich plumes in a small satin bonnet, met with
-general approval; but before she had settled herself
-with a stately rustle in the pew opposite Mrs. Archer's
-the spectators were craning their necks to see who was
-coming after her.  Wild rumours had been abroad the
-day before to the effect that Mrs. Manson Mingott, in
-spite of her physical disabilities, had resolved on being
-present at the ceremony; and the idea was so much in
-keeping with her sporting character that bets ran high
-at the clubs as to her being able to walk up the nave
-and squeeze into a seat.  It was known that she had
-insisted on sending her own carpenter to look into the
-possibility of taking down the end panel of the front
-pew, and to measure the space between the seat and
-the front; but the result had been discouraging, and for
-one anxious day her family had watched her dallying
-with the plan of being wheeled up the nave in her
-enormous Bath chair and sitting enthroned in it at the
-foot of the chancel.
-
-The idea of this monstrous exposure of her person
-was so painful to her relations that they could have
-covered with gold the ingenious person who suddenly
-discovered that the chair was too wide to pass between
-the iron uprights of the awning which extended from
-the church door to the curbstone.  The idea of doing
-away with this awning, and revealing the bride to the
-mob of dressmakers and newspaper reporters who stood
-outside fighting to get near the joints of the canvas,
-exceeded even old Catherine's courage, though for a
-moment she had weighed the possibility.  "Why, they
-might take a photograph of my child AND PUT IT IN THE
-PAPERS!" Mrs. Welland exclaimed when her mother's
-last plan was hinted to her; and from this unthinkable
-indecency the clan recoiled with a collective shudder.
-The ancestress had had to give in; but her concession
-was bought only by the promise that the wedding-
-breakfast should take place under her roof, though (as
-the Washington Square connection said) with the
-Wellands' house in easy reach it was hard to have to make
-a special price with Brown to drive one to the other
-end of nowhere.
-
-Though all these transactions had been widely
-reported by the Jacksons a sporting minority still clung
-to the belief that old Catherine would appear in church,
-and there was a distinct lowering of the temperature
-when she was found to have been replaced by her
-daughter-in-law.  Mrs. Lovell Mingott had the high colour
-and glassy stare induced in ladies of her age and
-habit by the effort of getting into a new dress; but once
-the disappointment occasioned by her mother-in-law's
-non-appearance had subsided, it was agreed that her
-black Chantilly over lilac satin, with a bonnet of Parma
-violets, formed the happiest contrast to Mrs. Welland's
-blue and plum-colour.  Far different was the impression
-produced by the gaunt and mincing lady who followed
-on Mr. Mingott's arm, in a wild dishevelment of stripes
-and fringes and floating scarves; and as this last apparition
-glided into view Archer's heart contracted and
-stopped beating.
-
-He had taken it for granted that the Marchioness
-Manson was still in Washington, where she had gone
-some four weeks previously with her niece, Madame
-Olenska.  It was generally understood that their abrupt
-departure was due to Madame Olenska's desire to remove
-her aunt from the baleful eloquence of Dr. Agathon
-Carver, who had nearly succeeded in enlisting her as a
-recruit for the Valley of Love; and in the circumstances
-no one had expected either of the ladies to return for
-the wedding.  For a moment Archer stood with his eyes
-fixed on Medora's fantastic figure, straining to see who
-came behind her; but the little procession was at an
-end, for all the lesser members of the family had taken
-their seats, and the eight tall ushers, gathering themselves
-together like birds or insects preparing for some
-migratory manoeuvre, were already slipping through
-the side doors into the lobby.
-
-"Newland--I say: SHE'S HERE!" the best man whispered.
-
-Archer roused himself with a start.
-
-A long time had apparently passed since his heart
-had stopped beating, for the white and rosy procession
-was in fact half way up the nave, the Bishop, the
-Rector and two white-winged assistants were hovering
-about the flower-banked altar, and the first chords of
-the Spohr symphony were strewing their flower-like
-notes before the bride.
-
-Archer opened his eyes (but could they really have
-been shut, as he imagined?), and felt his heart beginning
-to resume its usual task.  The music, the scent of
-the lilies on the altar, the vision of the cloud of tulle
-and orange-blossoms floating nearer and nearer, the
-sight of Mrs. Archer's face suddenly convulsed with
-happy sobs, the low benedictory murmur of the Rector's
-voice, the ordered evolutions of the eight pink
-bridesmaids and the eight black ushers: all these sights,
-sounds and sensations, so familiar in themselves, so
-unutterably strange and meaningless in his new relation
-to them, were confusedly mingled in his brain.
-
-"My God," he thought, "HAVE I got the ring?"--and
-once more he went through the bridegroom's convulsive
-gesture.
-
-Then, in a moment, May was beside him, such radiance
-streaming from her that it sent a faint warmth
-through his numbness, and he straightened himself and
-smiled into her eyes.
-
-"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here," the
-Rector began . . .
-
-The ring was on her hand, the Bishop's benediction
-had been given, the bridesmaids were a-poise to resume
-their place in the procession, and the organ was showing
-preliminary symptoms of breaking out into the
-Mendelssohn March, without which no newly-wedded
-couple had ever emerged upon New York.
-
-"Your arm--I SAY, GIVE HER YOUR ARM!" young
-Newland nervously hissed; and once more Archer became
-aware of having been adrift far off in the unknown.
-What was it that had sent him there, he
-wondered?  Perhaps the glimpse, among the anonymous
-spectators in the transept, of a dark coil of hair under a
-hat which, a moment later, revealed itself as belonging
-to an unknown lady with a long nose, so laughably unlike
-the person whose image she had evoked that he asked
-himself if he were becoming subject to hallucinations.
-
-And now he and his wife were pacing slowly down
-the nave, carried forward on the light Mendelssohn
-ripples, the spring day beckoning to them through widely
-opened doors, and Mrs. Welland's chestnuts, with big
-white favours on their frontlets, curvetting and showing
-off at the far end of the canvas tunnel.
-
-The footman, who had a still bigger white favour on
-his lapel, wrapped May's white cloak about her, and
-Archer jumped into the brougham at her side.  She
-turned to him with a triumphant smile and their hands
-clasped under her veil.
-
-"Darling!" Archer said--and suddenly the same black
-abyss yawned before him and he felt himself sinking
-into it, deeper and deeper, while his voice rambled on
-smoothly and cheerfully:  "Yes, of course I thought I'd
-lost the ring; no wedding would be complete if the
-poor devil of a bridegroom didn't go through that.  But
-you DID keep me waiting, you know!  I had time to
-think of every horror that might possibly happen."
-
-She surprised him by turning, in full Fifth Avenue,
-and flinging her arms about his neck.  "But none ever
-CAN happen now, can it, Newland, as long as we two
-are together?"
-
-
-Every detail of the day had been so carefully thought
-out that the young couple, after the wedding-breakfast,
-had ample time to put on their travelling-clothes,
-descend the wide Mingott stairs between laughing bridesmaids
-and weeping parents, and get into the brougham
-under the traditional shower of rice and satin slippers;
-and there was still half an hour left in which to drive to
-the station, buy the last weeklies at the bookstall with
-the air of seasoned travellers, and settle themselves in
-the reserved compartment in which May's maid had
-already placed her dove-coloured travelling cloak and
-glaringly new dressing-bag from London.
-
-The old du Lac aunts at Rhinebeck had put their
-house at the disposal of the bridal couple, with a readiness
-inspired by the prospect of spending a week in
-New York with Mrs. Archer; and Archer, glad to escape
-the usual "bridal suite" in a Philadelphia or Baltimore
-hotel, had accepted with an equal alacrity.
-
-May was enchanted at the idea of going to the country,
-and childishly amused at the vain efforts of the
-eight bridesmaids to discover where their mysterious
-retreat was situated.  It was thought "very English" to
-have a country-house lent to one, and the fact gave a
-last touch of distinction to what was generally
-conceded to be the most brilliant wedding of the year; but
-where the house was no one was permitted to know,
-except the parents of bride and groom, who, when
-taxed with the knowledge, pursed their lips and said
-mysteriously:  "Ah, they didn't tell us--" which was
-manifestly true, since there was no need to.
-
-Once they were settled in their compartment, and the
-train, shaking off the endless wooden suburbs, had
-pushed out into the pale landscape of spring, talk
-became easier than Archer had expected.  May was still,
-in look and tone, the simple girl of yesterday, eager to
-compare notes with him as to the incidents of the
-wedding, and discussing them as impartially as a bridesmaid
-talking it all over with an usher.  At first Archer
-had fancied that this detachment was the disguise of an
-inward tremor; but her clear eyes revealed only the
-most tranquil unawareness.  She was alone for the first
-time with her husband; but her husband was only the
-charming comrade of yesterday.  There was no one
-whom she liked as much, no one whom she trusted as
-completely, and the culminating "lark" of the whole
-delightful adventure of engagement and marriage was
-to be off with him alone on a journey, like a grownup
-person, like a "married woman," in fact.
-
-It was wonderful that--as he had learned in the
-Mission garden at St. Augustine--such depths of feeling
-could coexist with such absence of imagination.  But
-he remembered how, even then, she had surprised him
-by dropping back to inexpressive girlishness as soon as
-her conscience had been eased of its burden; and he
-saw that she would probably go through life dealing to
-the best of her ability with each experience as it came,
-but never anticipating any by so much as a stolen
-glance.
-
-Perhaps that faculty of unawareness was what gave
-her eyes their transparency, and her face the look of
-representing a type rather than a person; as if she
-might have been chosen to pose for a Civic Virtue or a
-Greek goddess.  The blood that ran so close to her fair
-skin might have been a preserving fluid rather than a
-ravaging element; yet her look of indestructible
-youthfulness made her seem neither hard nor dull, but only
-primitive and pure.  In the thick of this meditation
-Archer suddenly felt himself looking at her with the
-startled gaze of a stranger, and plunged into a reminiscence
-of the wedding-breakfast and of Granny Mingott's
-immense and triumphant pervasion of it.
-
-May settled down to frank enjoyment of the subject.
-"I was surprised, though--weren't you?--that aunt
-Medora came after all.  Ellen wrote that they were
-neither of them well enough to take the journey; I do
-wish it had been she who had recovered!  Did you see
-the exquisite old lace she sent me?"
-
-He had known that the moment must come sooner
-or later, but he had somewhat imagined that by force
-of willing he might hold it at bay.
-
-"Yes--I--no: yes, it was beautiful," he said, looking
-at her blindly, and wondering if, whenever he heard
-those two syllables, all his carefully built-up world
-would tumble about him like a house of cards.
-
-"Aren't you tired?  It will be good to have some tea
-when we arrive--I'm sure the aunts have got everything
-beautifully ready," he rattled on, taking her hand
-in his; and her mind rushed away instantly to the
-magnificent tea and coffee service of Baltimore silver
-which the Beauforts had sent, and which "went" so
-perfectly with uncle Lovell Mingott's trays and side-dishes.
-
-In the spring twilight the train stopped at the
-Rhinebeck station, and they walked along the platform
-to the waiting carriage.
-
-"Ah, how awfully kind of the van der Luydens--
-they've sent their man over from Skuytercliff to meet
-us," Archer exclaimed, as a sedate person out of livery
-approached them and relieved the maid of her bags.
-
-"I'm extremely sorry, sir," said this emissary, "that a
-little accident has occurred at the Miss du Lacs': a leak
-in the water-tank.  It happened yesterday, and Mr. van
-der Luyden, who heard of it this morning, sent a housemaid
-up by the early train to get the Patroon's house
-ready.  It will be quite comfortable, I think you'll find,
-sir; and the Miss du Lacs have sent their cook over, so
-that it will be exactly the same as if you'd been at
-Rhinebeck."
-
-Archer stared at the speaker so blankly that he
-repeated in still more apologetic accents:  "It'll be exactly
-the same, sir, I do assure you--" and May's eager voice
-broke out, covering the embarrassed silence:  "The same
-as Rhinebeck?  The Patroon's house?  But it will be a
-hundred thousand times better--won't it, Newland?
-It's too dear and kind of Mr. van der Luyden to have
-thought of it."
-
-And as they drove off, with the maid beside the
-coachman, and their shining bridal bags on the seat
-before them, she went on excitedly:  "Only fancy, I've
-never been inside it--have you?  The van der Luydens
-show it to so few people.  But they opened it for Ellen,
-it seems, and she told me what a darling little place it
-was: she says it's the only house she's seen in America
-that she could imagine being perfectly happy in."
-
-"Well--that's what we're going to be, isn't it?" cried
-her husband gaily; and she answered with her boyish
-smile:  "Ah, it's just our luck beginning--the wonderful
-luck we're always going to have together!"
-
-
-
-XX.
-
-"Of course we must dine with Mrs. Carfry, dearest,"
-Archer said; and his wife looked at him with an
-anxious frown across the monumental Britannia ware of
-their lodging house breakfast-table.
-
-In all the rainy desert of autumnal London there
-were only two people whom the Newland Archers
-knew; and these two they had sedulously avoided, in
-conformity with the old New York tradition that it was
-not "dignified" to force one's self on the notice of one's
-acquaintances in foreign countries.
-
-Mrs. Archer and Janey, in the course of their visits to
-Europe, had so unflinchingly lived up to this principle,
-and met the friendly advances of their fellow-travellers
-with an air of such impenetrable reserve, that they had
-almost achieved the record of never having exchanged
-a word with a "foreigner" other than those employed
-in hotels and railway-stations.  Their own compatriots--
-save those previously known or properly accredited--
-they treated with an even more pronounced disdain; so
-that, unless they ran across a Chivers, a Dagonet or a
-Mingott, their months abroad were spent in an unbroken
-tete-a-tete.  But the utmost precautions are sometimes
-unavailing; and one night at Botzen one of the
-two English ladies in the room across the passage (whose
-names, dress and social situation were already intimately
-known to Janey) had knocked on the door and
-asked if Mrs. Archer had a bottle of liniment.  The
-other lady--the intruder's sister, Mrs. Carfry--had been
-seized with a sudden attack of bronchitis; and Mrs.
-Archer, who never travelled without a complete family
-pharmacy, was fortunately able to produce the required
-remedy.
-
-Mrs. Carfry was very ill, and as she and her sister
-Miss Harle were travelling alone they were profoundly
-grateful to the Archer ladies, who supplied them with
-ingenious comforts and whose efficient maid helped to
-nurse the invalid back to health.
-
-When the Archers left Botzen they had no idea of
-ever seeing Mrs. Carfry and Miss Harle again.  Nothing,
-to Mrs. Archer's mind, would have been more
-"undignified" than to force one's self on the notice of a
-"foreigner" to whom one had happened to render an
-accidental service.  But Mrs. Carfry and her sister, to
-whom this point of view was unknown, and who would
-have found it utterly incomprehensible, felt themselves
-linked by an eternal gratitude to the "delightful Americans"
-who had been so kind at Botzen.  With touching
-fidelity they seized every chance of meeting Mrs. Archer
-and Janey in the course of their continental travels, and
-displayed a supernatural acuteness in finding out when
-they were to pass through London on their way to or
-from the States.  The intimacy became indissoluble, and
-Mrs. Archer and Janey, whenever they alighted at
-Brown's Hotel, found themselves awaited by two affectionate
-friends who, like themselves, cultivated ferns in
-Wardian cases, made macrame lace, read the memoirs
-of the Baroness Bunsen and had views about the
-occupants of the leading London pulpits.  As Mrs. Archer
-said, it made "another thing of London" to know Mrs.
-Carfry and Miss Harle; and by the time that Newland
-became engaged the tie between the families was so
-firmly established that it was thought "only right" to
-send a wedding invitation to the two English ladies,
-who sent, in return, a pretty bouquet of pressed Alpine
-flowers under glass.  And on the dock, when Newland
-and his wife sailed for England, Mrs. Archer's last
-word had been:  "You must take May to see Mrs.
-Carfry."
-
-Newland and his wife had had no idea of obeying
-this injunction; but Mrs. Carfry, with her usual acuteness,
-had run them down and sent them an invitation
-to dine; and it was over this invitation that May Archer
-was wrinkling her brows across the tea and muffins.
-
-"It's all very well for you, Newland; you KNOW them.
-But I shall feel so shy among a lot of people I've never
-met.  And what shall I wear?"
-
-Newland leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.
-She looked handsomer and more Diana-like than ever.
-The moist English air seemed to have deepened the
-bloom of her cheeks and softened the slight hardness of
-her virginal features; or else it was simply the inner
-glow of happiness, shining through like a light under
-ice.
-
-"Wear, dearest?  I thought a trunkful of things had
-come from Paris last week."
-
-"Yes, of course.  I meant to say that I shan't know
-WHICH to wear."  She pouted a little.  "I've never dined
-out in London; and I don't want to be ridiculous."
-
-He tried to enter into her perplexity.  "But don't
-Englishwomen dress just like everybody else in the
-evening?"
-
-"Newland!  How can you ask such funny questions?
-When they go to the theatre in old ball-dresses and
-bare heads."
-
-"Well, perhaps they wear new ball-dresses at home;
-but at any rate Mrs. Carfry and Miss Harle won't.
-They'll wear caps like my mother's--and shawls; very
-soft shawls."
-
-"Yes; but how will the other women be dressed?"
-
-"Not as well as you, dear," he rejoined, wondering
-what had suddenly developed in her Janey's morbid
-interest in clothes.
-
-She pushed back her chair with a sigh.  "That's dear
-of you, Newland; but it doesn't help me much."
-
-He had an inspiration.  "Why not wear your wedding-
-dress?  That can't be wrong, can it?"
-
-"Oh, dearest!  If I only had it here!  But it's gone to
-Paris to be made over for next winter, and Worth
-hasn't sent it back."
-
-"Oh, well--" said Archer, getting up.  "Look here--
-the fog's lifting.  If we made a dash for the National
-Gallery we might manage to catch a glimpse of the
-pictures."
-
-
-The Newland Archers were on their way home, after
-a three months' wedding-tour which May, in writing to
-her girl friends, vaguely summarised as "blissful."
-
-They had not gone to the Italian Lakes: on reflection,
-Archer had not been able to picture his wife in
-that particular setting.  Her own inclination (after a
-month with the Paris dressmakers) was for mountaineering
-in July and swimming in August.  This plan they
-punctually fulfilled, spending July at Interlaken and
-Grindelwald, and August at a little place called Etretat,
-on the Normandy coast, which some one had recommended
-as quaint and quiet.  Once or twice, in the
-mountains, Archer had pointed southward and said:
-"There's Italy"; and May, her feet in a gentian-bed,
-had smiled cheerfully, and replied:  "It would be lovely
-to go there next winter, if only you didn't have to be in
-New York."
-
-But in reality travelling interested her even less than
-he had expected.  She regarded it (once her clothes were
-ordered) as merely an enlarged opportunity for walking,
-riding, swimming, and trying her hand at the fascinating
-new game of lawn tennis; and when they finally
-got back to London (where they were to spend a fortnight
-while he ordered HIS clothes) she no longer concealed
-the eagerness with which she looked forward to
-sailing.
-
-In London nothing interested her but the theatres
-and the shops; and she found the theatres less exciting
-than the Paris cafes chantants where, under the blossoming
-horse-chestnuts of the Champs Elysees, she had
-had the novel experience of looking down from the
-restaurant terrace on an audience of "cocottes," and
-having her husband interpret to her as much of the
-songs as he thought suitable for bridal ears.
-
-Archer had reverted to all his old inherited ideas
-about marriage.  It was less trouble to conform with the
-tradition and treat May exactly as all his friends treated
-their wives than to try to put into practice the theories
-with which his untrammelled bachelorhood had dallied.
-There was no use in trying to emancipate a wife
-who had not the dimmest notion that she was not free;
-and he had long since discovered that May's only use
-of the liberty she supposed herself to possess would be
-to lay it on the altar of her wifely adoration.  Her innate
-dignity would always keep her from making the gift
-abjectly; and a day might even come (as it once had)
-when she would find strength to take it altogether back
-if she thought she were doing it for his own good.  But
-with a conception of marriage so uncomplicated and
-incurious as hers such a crisis could be brought about
-only by something visibly outrageous in his own conduct;
-and the fineness of her feeling for him made that
-unthinkable.  Whatever happened, he knew, she would
-always be loyal, gallant and unresentful; and that pledged
-him to the practice of the same virtues.
-
-All this tended to draw him back into his old habits
-of mind.  If her simplicity had been the simplicity of
-pettiness he would have chafed and rebelled; but since
-the lines of her character, though so few, were on the
-same fine mould as her face, she became the tutelary
-divinity of all his old traditions and reverences.
-
-Such qualities were scarcely of the kind to enliven
-foreign travel, though they made her so easy and pleasant
-a companion; but he saw at once how they would
-fall into place in their proper setting.  He had no fear of
-being oppressed by them, for his artistic and intellectual
-life would go on, as it always had, outside the
-domestic circle; and within it there would be nothing
-small and stifling--coming back to his wife would never
-be like entering a stuffy room after a tramp in the
-open.  And when they had children the vacant corners
-in both their lives would be filled.
-
-All these things went through his mind during their
-long slow drive from Mayfair to South Kensington,
-where Mrs. Carfry and her sister lived.  Archer too
-would have preferred to escape their friends' hospitality:
-in conformity with the family tradition he had
-always travelled as a sight-seer and looker-on, affecting
-a haughty unconsciousness of the presence of his fellow-
-beings.  Once only, just after Harvard, he had spent a
-few gay weeks at Florence with a band of queer
-Europeanised Americans, dancing all night with titled
-ladies in palaces, and gambling half the day with the
-rakes and dandies of the fashionable club; but it had all
-seemed to him, though the greatest fun in the world, as
-unreal as a carnival.  These queer cosmopolitan women,
-deep in complicated love-affairs which they appeared to
-feel the need of retailing to every one they met, and the
-magnificent young officers and elderly dyed wits who
-were the subjects or the recipients of their confidences,
-were too different from the people Archer had grown
-up among, too much like expensive and rather malodorous
-hot-house exotics, to detain his imagination
-long.  To introduce his wife into such a society was out
-of the question; and in the course of his travels no
-other had shown any marked eagerness for his company.
-
-Not long after their arrival in London he had run
-across the Duke of St. Austrey, and the Duke, instantly
-and cordially recognising him, had said:  "Look me up,
-won't you?"--but no proper-spirited American would
-have considered that a suggestion to be acted on, and
-the meeting was without a sequel.  They had even managed
-to avoid May's English aunt, the banker's wife,
-who was still in Yorkshire; in fact, they had purposely
-postponed going to London till the autumn in order
-that their arrival during the season might not appear
-pushing and snobbish to these unknown relatives.
-
-"Probably there'll be nobody at Mrs. Carfry's--London's
-a desert at this season, and you've made yourself
-much too beautiful," Archer said to May, who sat at
-his side in the hansom so spotlessly splendid in her
-sky-blue cloak edged with swansdown that it seemed
-wicked to expose her to the London grime.
-
-"I don't want them to think that we dress like
-savages," she replied, with a scorn that Pocahontas might
-have resented; and he was struck again by the religious
-reverence of even the most unworldly American women
-for the social advantages of dress.
-
-"It's their armour," he thought, "their defence against
-the unknown, and their defiance of it."  And he understood
-for the first time the earnestness with which
-May, who was incapable of tying a ribbon in her hair
-to charm him, had gone through the solemn rite of
-selecting and ordering her extensive wardrobe.
-
-He had been right in expecting the party at Mrs.
-Carfry's to be a small one.  Besides their hostess and her
-sister, they found, in the long chilly drawing-room,
-only another shawled lady, a genial Vicar who was her
-husband, a silent lad whom Mrs. Carfry named as her
-nephew, and a small dark gentleman with lively eyes
-whom she introduced as his tutor, pronouncing a French
-name as she did so.
-
-Into this dimly-lit and dim-featured group May Archer
-floated like a swan with the sunset on her: she seemed
-larger, fairer, more voluminously rustling than her
-husband had ever seen her; and he perceived that the
-rosiness and rustlingness were the tokens of an extreme
-and infantile shyness.
-
-"What on earth will they expect me to talk about?"
-her helpless eyes implored him, at the very moment
-that her dazzling apparition was calling forth the same
-anxiety in their own bosoms.  But beauty, even when
-distrustful of itself, awakens confidence in the manly
-heart; and the Vicar and the French-named tutor were
-soon manifesting to May their desire to put her at her
-ease.
-
-In spite of their best efforts, however, the dinner was
-a languishing affair.  Archer noticed that his wife's way
-of showing herself at her ease with foreigners was to
-become more uncompromisingly local in her references,
-so that, though her loveliness was an encouragement to
-admiration, her conversation was a chill to repartee.
-The Vicar soon abandoned the struggle; but the tutor,
-who spoke the most fluent and accomplished English,
-gallantly continued to pour it out to her until the
-ladies, to the manifest relief of all concerned, went up
-to the drawing-room.
-
-The Vicar, after a glass of port, was obliged to hurry
-away to a meeting, and the shy nephew, who appeared
-to be an invalid, was packed off to bed.  But Archer and
-the tutor continued to sit over their wine, and suddenly
-Archer found himself talking as he had not done since
-his last symposium with Ned Winsett.  The Carfry
-nephew, it turned out, had been threatened with
-consumption, and had had to leave Harrow for Switzerland,
-where he had spent two years in the milder air of
-Lake Leman.  Being a bookish youth, he had been
-entrusted to M. Riviere, who had brought him back to
-England, and was to remain with him till he went up to
-Oxford the following spring; and M. Riviere added
-with simplicity that he should then have to look out for
-another job.
-
-It seemed impossible, Archer thought, that he should
-be long without one, so varied were his interests and so
-many his gifts.  He was a man of about thirty, with a
-thin ugly face (May would certainly have called him
-common-looking) to which the play of his ideas gave
-an intense expressiveness; but there was nothing frivolous
-or cheap in his animation.
-
-His father, who had died young, had filled a small
-diplomatic post, and it had been intended that the son
-should follow the same career; but an insatiable taste
-for letters had thrown the young man into journalism,
-then into authorship (apparently unsuccessful), and at
-length--after other experiments and vicissitudes which
-he spared his listener--into tutoring English youths in
-Switzerland.  Before that, however, he had lived much
-in Paris, frequented the Goncourt grenier, been advised
-by Maupassant not to attempt to write (even that seemed
-to Archer a dazzling honour!), and had often talked
-with Merimee in his mother's house.  He had obviously
-always been desperately poor and anxious (having a
-mother and an unmarried sister to provide for), and it
-was apparent that his literary ambitions had failed.  His
-situation, in fact, seemed, materially speaking, no more
-brilliant than Ned Winsett's; but he had lived in a
-world in which, as he said, no one who loved ideas
-need hunger mentally.  As it was precisely of that love
-that poor Winsett was starving to death, Archer looked
-with a sort of vicarious envy at this eager impecunious
-young man who had fared so richly in his poverty.
-
-"You see, Monsieur, it's worth everything, isn't it, to
-keep one's intellectual liberty, not to enslave one's powers
-of appreciation, one's critical independence?  It was
-because of that that I abandoned journalism, and took
-to so much duller work: tutoring and private secretaryship.
-There is a good deal of drudgery, of course; but
-one preserves one's moral freedom, what we call in
-French one's quant a soi.  And when one hears good
-talk one can join in it without compromising any opinions
-but one's own; or one can listen, and answer it
-inwardly.  Ah, good conversation--there's nothing like
-it, is there?  The air of ideas is the only air worth
-breathing.  And so I have never regretted giving up
-either diplomacy or journalism--two different forms of
-the same self-abdication."  He fixed his vivid eyes on
-Archer as he lit another cigarette.  "Voyez-vous,
-Monsieur, to be able to look life in the face: that's worth
-living in a garret for, isn't it?  But, after all, one must
-earn enough to pay for the garret; and I confess that to
-grow old as a private tutor--or a `private' anything--is
-almost as chilling to the imagination as a second
-secretaryship at Bucharest.  Sometimes I feel I must make a
-plunge: an immense plunge.  Do you suppose, for instance,
-there would be any opening for me in America--
-in New York?"
-
-Archer looked at him with startled eyes.  New York,
-for a young man who had frequented the Goncourts
-and Flaubert, and who thought the life of ideas the
-only one worth living!  He continued to stare at M.
-Riviere perplexedly, wondering how to tell him that
-his very superiorities and advantages would be the
-surest hindrance to success.
-
-"New York--New York--but must it be especially
-New York?" he stammered, utterly unable to imagine
-what lucrative opening his native city could offer to a
-young man to whom good conversation appeared to be
-the only necessity.
-
-A sudden flush rose under M. Riviere's sallow skin.
-"I--I thought it your metropolis: is not the intellectual
-life more active there?" he rejoined; then, as if fearing
-to give his hearer the impression of having asked a
-favour, he went on hastily:  "One throws out random
-suggestions--more to one's self than to others.  In reality,
-I see no immediate prospect--" and rising from his
-seat he added, without a trace of constraint:  "But
-Mrs. Carfry will think that I ought to be taking you
-upstairs."
-
-During the homeward drive Archer pondered deeply
-on this episode.  His hour with M. Riviere had put
-new air into his lungs, and his first impulse had been to
-invite him to dine the next day; but he was beginning
-to understand why married men did not always immediately
-yield to their first impulses.
-
-"That young tutor is an interesting fellow: we had
-some awfully good talk after dinner about books and
-things," he threw out tentatively in the hansom.
-
-May roused herself from one of the dreamy silences
-into which he had read so many meanings before six
-months of marriage had given him the key to them.
-
-"The little Frenchman?  Wasn't he dreadfully
-common?" she questioned coldly; and he guessed that she
-nursed a secret disappointment at having been invited
-out in London to meet a clergyman and a French tutor.
-The disappointment was not occasioned by the sentiment
-ordinarily defined as snobbishness, but by old
-New York's sense of what was due to it when it risked
-its dignity in foreign lands.  If May's parents had
-entertained the Carfrys in Fifth Avenue they would have
-offered them something more substantial than a parson
-and a schoolmaster.
-
-But Archer was on edge, and took her up.
-
-"Common--common WHERE?" he queried; and she
-returned with unusual readiness:  "Why, I should say
-anywhere but in his school-room.  Those people are
-always awkward in society.  But then," she added
-disarmingly, "I suppose I shouldn't have known if he was
-clever."
-
-Archer disliked her use of the word "clever" almost
-as much as her use of the word "common"; but he was
-beginning to fear his tendency to dwell on the things he
-disliked in her.  After all, her point of view had always
-been the same.  It was that of all the people he had
-grown up among, and he had always regarded it as
-necessary but negligible.  Until a few months ago he had
-never known a "nice" woman who looked at life
-differently; and if a man married it must necessarily be
-among the nice.
-
-"Ah--then I won't ask him to dine!" he concluded
-with a laugh; and May echoed, bewildered:  "Goodness--
-ask the Carfrys' tutor?"
-
-"Well, not on the same day with the Carfrys, if you
-prefer I shouldn't.  But I did rather want another talk
-with him.  He's looking for a job in New York."
-
-Her surprise increased with her indifference: he
-almost fancied that she suspected him of being tainted
-with "foreignness."
-
-"A job in New York?  What sort of a job?  People
-don't have French tutors: what does he want to do?"
-
-"Chiefly to enjoy good conversation, I understand,"
-her husband retorted perversely; and she broke into an
-appreciative laugh.  "Oh, Newland, how funny!  Isn't
-that FRENCH?"
-
-On the whole, he was glad to have the matter settled
-for him by her refusing to take seriously his wish to
-invite M. Riviere.  Another after-dinner talk would have
-made it difficult to avoid the question of New York;
-and the more Archer considered it the less he was able
-to fit M. Riviere into any conceivable picture of New
-York as he knew it.
-
-He perceived with a flash of chilling insight that in
-future many problems would be thus negatively solved
-for him; but as he paid the hansom and followed his
-wife's long train into the house he took refuge in the
-comforting platitude that the first six months were
-always the most difficult in marriage.  "After that I
-suppose we shall have pretty nearly finished rubbing
-off each other's angles," he reflected; but the worst of
-it was that May's pressure was already bearing on the
-very angles whose sharpness he most wanted to keep.
-
-
-
-XXI.
-
-The small bright lawn stretched away smoothly to
-the big bright sea.
-
-The turf was hemmed with an edge of scarlet geranium
-and coleus, and cast-iron vases painted in chocolate
-colour, standing at intervals along the winding
-path that led to the sea, looped their garlands of
-petunia and ivy geranium above the neatly raked gravel.
-
-Half way between the edge of the cliff and the square
-wooden house (which was also chocolate-coloured, but
-with the tin roof of the verandah striped in yellow and
-brown to represent an awning) two large targets had
-been placed against a background of shrubbery.  On the
-other side of the lawn, facing the targets, was pitched a
-real tent, with benches and garden-seats about it.  A
-number of ladies in summer dresses and gentlemen in
-grey frock-coats and tall hats stood on the lawn or sat
-upon the benches; and every now and then a slender
-girl in starched muslin would step from the tent,
-bow in hand, and speed her shaft at one of the targets,
-while the spectators interrupted their talk to watch
-the result.
-
-Newland Archer, standing on the verandah of the
-house, looked curiously down upon this scene.  On each
-side of the shiny painted steps was a large blue china
-flower-pot on a bright yellow china stand.  A spiky
-green plant filled each pot, and below the verandah ran
-a wide border of blue hydrangeas edged with more red
-geraniums.  Behind him, the French windows of the
-drawing-rooms through which he had passed gave
-glimpses, between swaying lace curtains, of glassy parquet
-floors islanded with chintz poufs, dwarf armchairs,
-and velvet tables covered with trifles in silver.
-
-The Newport Archery Club always held its August
-meeting at the Beauforts'.  The sport, which had hitherto
-known no rival but croquet, was beginning to be
-discarded in favour of lawn-tennis; but the latter game
-was still considered too rough and inelegant for social
-occasions, and as an opportunity to show off pretty
-dresses and graceful attitudes the bow and arrow held
-their own.
-
-Archer looked down with wonder at the familiar
-spectacle.  It surprised him that life should be going on
-in the old way when his own reactions to it had so
-completely changed.  It was Newport that had first
-brought home to him the extent of the change.  In New
-York, during the previous winter, after he and May
-had settled down in the new greenish-yellow house
-with the bow-window and the Pompeian vestibule, he
-had dropped back with relief into the old routine of the
-office, and the renewal of this daily activity had served
-as a link with his former self.  Then there had been the
-pleasurable excitement of choosing a showy grey stepper
-for May's brougham (the Wellands had given the
-carriage), and the abiding occupation and interest of
-arranging his new library, which, in spite of family
-doubts and disapprovals, had been carried out as he
-had dreamed, with a dark embossed paper, Eastlake
-book-cases and "sincere" arm-chairs and tables.  At the
-Century he had found Winsett again, and at the Knickerbocker
-the fashionable young men of his own set;
-and what with the hours dedicated to the law and
-those given to dining out or entertaining friends at
-home, with an occasional evening at the Opera or the
-play, the life he was living had still seemed a fairly real
-and inevitable sort of business.
-
-But Newport represented the escape from duty into
-an atmosphere of unmitigated holiday-making.  Archer
-had tried to persuade May to spend the summer on a
-remote island off the coast of Maine (called, appropriately
-enough, Mount Desert), where a few hardy Bostonians
-and Philadelphians were camping in "native"
-cottages, and whence came reports of enchanting
-scenery and a wild, almost trapper-like existence amid
-woods and waters.
-
-But the Wellands always went to Newport, where
-they owned one of the square boxes on the cliffs, and
-their son-in-law could adduce no good reason why he
-and May should not join them there.  As Mrs. Welland
-rather tartly pointed out, it was hardly worth while for
-May to have worn herself out trying on summer clothes
-in Paris if she was not to be allowed to wear them; and
-this argument was of a kind to which Archer had as yet
-found no answer.
-
-May herself could not understand his obscure
-reluctance to fall in with so reasonable and pleasant a way
-of spending the summer.  She reminded him that he had
-always liked Newport in his bachelor days, and as this
-was indisputable he could only profess that he was sure
-he was going to like it better than ever now that they
-were to be there together.  But as he stood on the
-Beaufort verandah and looked out on the brightly peopled
-lawn it came home to him with a shiver that he
-was not going to like it at all.
-
-It was not May's fault, poor dear.  If, now and then,
-during their travels, they had fallen slightly out of step,
-harmony had been restored by their return to the
-conditions she was used to.  He had always foreseen that
-she would not disappoint him; and he had been right.
-He had married (as most young men did) because he
-had met a perfectly charming girl at the moment when
-a series of rather aimless sentimental adventures were
-ending in premature disgust; and she had represented
-peace, stability, comradeship, and the steadying sense
-of an unescapable duty.
-
-He could not say that he had been mistaken in his
-choice, for she had fulfilled all that he had expected.  It
-was undoubtedly gratifying to be the husband of one of
-the handsomest and most popular young married women
-in New York, especially when she was also one of the
-sweetest-tempered and most reasonable of wives; and
-Archer had never been insensible to such advantages.
-As for the momentary madness which had fallen upon
-him on the eve of his marriage, he had trained himself
-to regard it as the last of his discarded experiments.
-The idea that he could ever, in his senses, have dreamed
-of marrying the Countess Olenska had become almost
-unthinkable, and she remained in his memory simply as
-the most plaintive and poignant of a line of ghosts.
-
-But all these abstractions and eliminations made
-of his mind a rather empty and echoing place, and he
-supposed that was one of the reasons why the busy
-animated people on the Beaufort lawn shocked him as
-if they had been children playing in a grave-yard.
-
-He heard a murmur of skirts beside him, and the
-Marchioness Manson fluttered out of the drawing-room
-window.  As usual, she was extraordinarily festooned
-and bedizened, with a limp Leghorn hat anchored to
-her head by many windings of faded gauze, and a little
-black velvet parasol on a carved ivory handle absurdly
-balanced over her much larger hatbrim.
-
-"My dear Newland, I had no idea that you and May
-had arrived!  You yourself came only yesterday, you
-say?  Ah, business--business--professional duties . . . I
-understand.  Many husbands, I know, find it impossible
-to join their wives here except for the week-end."  She
-cocked her head on one side and languished at him
-through screwed-up eyes.  "But marriage is one long
-sacrifice, as I used often to remind my Ellen--"
-
-Archer's heart stopped with the queer jerk which it
-had given once before, and which seemed suddenly to
-slam a door between himself and the outer world; but
-this break of continuity must have been of the briefest,
-for he presently heard Medora answering a question he
-had apparently found voice to put.
-
-"No, I am not staying here, but with the Blenkers, in
-their delicious solitude at Portsmouth.  Beaufort was
-kind enough to send his famous trotters for me this
-morning, so that I might have at least a glimpse of one
-of Regina's garden-parties; but this evening I go back
-to rural life.  The Blenkers, dear original beings, have
-hired a primitive old farm-house at Portsmouth where
-they gather about them representative people . . ."  She
-drooped slightly beneath her protecting brim, and added
-with a faint blush:  "This week Dr. Agathon Carver is
-holding a series of Inner Thought meetings there.  A
-contrast indeed to this gay scene of worldly pleasure--
-but then I have always lived on contrasts!  To me the
-only death is monotony.  I always say to Ellen: Beware
-of monotony; it's the mother of all the deadly sins.  But
-my poor child is going through a phase of exaltation,
-of abhorrence of the world.  You know, I suppose, that
-she has declined all invitations to stay at Newport,
-even with her grandmother Mingott?  I could hardly
-persuade her to come with me to the Blenkers', if you
-will believe it!  The life she leads is morbid, unnatural.
-Ah, if she had only listened to me when it was still
-possible . . . When the door was still open . . . But
-shall we go down and watch this absorbing match?  I
-hear your May is one of the competitors."
-
-Strolling toward them from the tent Beaufort
-advanced over the lawn, tall, heavy, too tightly buttoned
-into a London frock-coat, with one of his own orchids
-in its buttonhole.  Archer, who had not seen him for
-two or three months, was struck by the change in his
-appearance.  In the hot summer light his floridness seemed
-heavy and bloated, and but for his erect square-
-shouldered walk he would have looked like an over-fed
-and over-dressed old man.
-
-There were all sorts of rumours afloat about
-Beaufort.  In the spring he had gone off on a long cruise to
-the West Indies in his new steam-yacht, and it was
-reported that, at various points where he had touched,
-a lady resembling Miss Fanny Ring had been seen in
-his company.  The steam-yacht, built in the Clyde, and
-fitted with tiled bath-rooms and other unheard-of luxuries,
-was said to have cost him half a million; and the
-pearl necklace which he had presented to his wife on
-his return was as magnificent as such expiatory offerings
-are apt to be.  Beaufort's fortune was substantial
-enough to stand the strain; and yet the disquieting
-rumours persisted, not only in Fifth Avenue but in Wall
-Street.  Some people said he had speculated unfortunately
-in railways, others that he was being bled by one
-of the most insatiable members of her profession; and
-to every report of threatened insolvency Beaufort
-replied by a fresh extravagance: the building of a new
-row of orchid-houses, the purchase of a new string of
-race-horses, or the addition of a new Meissonnier or
-Cabanel to his picture-gallery.
-
-He advanced toward the Marchioness and Newland
-with his usual half-sneering smile.  "Hullo, Medora!
-Did the trotters do their business?  Forty minutes, eh?
-. . .  Well, that's not so bad, considering your nerves
-had to be spared."  He shook hands with Archer, and
-then, turning back with them, placed himself on Mrs.
-Manson's other side, and said, in a low voice, a few
-words which their companion did not catch.
-
-The Marchioness replied by one of her queer foreign
-jerks, and a "Que voulez-vous?" which deepened Beaufort's
-frown; but he produced a good semblance of a
-congratulatory smile as he glanced at Archer to say:
-"You know May's going to carry off the first prize."
-
-"Ah, then it remains in the family," Medora rippled;
-and at that moment they reached the tent and Mrs.
-Beaufort met them in a girlish cloud of mauve muslin
-and floating veils.
-
-May Welland was just coming out of the tent.  In her
-white dress, with a pale green ribbon about the waist
-and a wreath of ivy on her hat, she had the same
-Diana-like aloofness as when she had entered the Beaufort
-ball-room on the night of her engagement.  In the
-interval not a thought seemed to have passed behind
-her eyes or a feeling through her heart; and though her
-husband knew that she had the capacity for both he
-marvelled afresh at the way in which experience dropped
-away from her.
-
-She had her bow and arrow in her hand, and placing
-herself on the chalk-mark traced on the turf she lifted
-the bow to her shoulder and took aim.  The attitude
-was so full of a classic grace that a murmur of appreciation
-followed her appearance, and Archer felt the
-glow of proprietorship that so often cheated him into
-momentary well-being.  Her rivals--Mrs. Reggie Chivers,
-the Merry girls, and divers rosy Thorleys, Dagonets
-and Mingotts, stood behind her in a lovely anxious
-group, brown heads and golden bent above the scores,
-and pale muslins and flower-wreathed hats mingled in
-a tender rainbow.  All were young and pretty, and
-bathed in summer bloom; but not one had the nymph-
-like ease of his wife, when, with tense muscles and
-happy frown, she bent her soul upon some feat of
-strength.
-
-"Gad," Archer heard Lawrence Lefferts say, "not
-one of the lot holds the bow as she does"; and Beaufort
-retorted:  "Yes; but that's the only kind of target she'll
-ever hit."
-
-Archer felt irrationally angry.  His host's contemptuous
-tribute to May's "niceness" was just what a husband
-should have wished to hear said of his wife.  The
-fact that a coarseminded man found her lacking in
-attraction was simply another proof of her quality; yet
-the words sent a faint shiver through his heart.  What if
-"niceness" carried to that supreme degree were only a
-negation, the curtain dropped before an emptiness?  As
-he looked at May, returning flushed and calm from her
-final bull's-eye, he had the feeling that he had never yet
-lifted that curtain.
-
-She took the congratulations of her rivals and of the
-rest of the company with the simplicity that was her
-crowning grace.  No one could ever be jealous of her
-triumphs because she managed to give the feeling that
-she would have been just as serene if she had missed
-them.  But when her eyes met her husband's her face
-glowed with the pleasure she saw in his.
-
-Mrs. Welland's basket-work pony-carriage was waiting
-for them, and they drove off among the dispersing
-carriages, May handling the reins and Archer sitting at
-her side.
-
-The afternoon sunlight still lingered upon the bright
-lawns and shrubberies, and up and down Bellevue Avenue
-rolled a double line of victorias, dog-carts, landaus
-and "vis-a-vis," carrying well-dressed ladies and
-gentlemen away from the Beaufort garden-party, or homeward
-from their daily afternoon turn along the Ocean
-Drive.
-
-"Shall we go to see Granny?" May suddenly
-proposed.  "I should like to tell her myself that I've won
-the prize.  There's lots of time before dinner."
-
-Archer acquiesced, and she turned the ponies down
-Narragansett Avenue, crossed Spring Street and drove
-out toward the rocky moorland beyond.  In this unfashionable
-region Catherine the Great, always indifferent
-to precedent and thrifty of purse, had built herself in
-her youth a many-peaked and cross-beamed cottage-
-orne on a bit of cheap land overlooking the bay.  Here,
-in a thicket of stunted oaks, her verandahs spread
-themselves above the island-dotted waters.  A winding
-drive led up between iron stags and blue glass balls
-embedded in mounds of geraniums to a front door of
-highly-varnished walnut under a striped verandah-roof;
-and behind it ran a narrow hall with a black and
-yellow star-patterned parquet floor, upon which opened
-four small square rooms with heavy flock-papers under
-ceilings on which an Italian house-painter had lavished
-all the divinities of Olympus.  One of these rooms had
-been turned into a bedroom by Mrs. Mingott when the
-burden of flesh descended on her, and in the adjoining
-one she spent her days, enthroned in a large armchair
-between the open door and window, and perpetually
-waving a palm-leaf fan which the prodigious projection
-of her bosom kept so far from the rest of her person
-that the air it set in motion stirred only the fringe of the
-anti-macassars on the chair-arms.
-
-Since she had been the means of hastening his marriage
-old Catherine had shown to Archer the cordiality
-which a service rendered excites toward the person
-served.  She was persuaded that irrepressible passion
-was the cause of his impatience; and being an ardent
-admirer of impulsiveness (when it did not lead to the
-spending of money) she always received him with a
-genial twinkle of complicity and a play of allusion to
-which May seemed fortunately impervious.
-
-She examined and appraised with much interest the
-diamond-tipped arrow which had been pinned on May's
-bosom at the conclusion of the match, remarking that
-in her day a filigree brooch would have been thought
-enough, but that there was no denying that Beaufort
-did things handsomely.
-
-"Quite an heirloom, in fact, my dear," the old lady
-chuckled.  "You must leave it in fee to your eldest girl."
-She pinched May's white arm and watched the colour
-flood her face.  "Well, well, what have I said to make
-you shake out the red flag?  Ain't there going to be any
-daughters--only boys, eh?  Good gracious, look at her
-blushing again all over her blushes!  What--can't I say
-that either?  Mercy me--when my children beg me to
-have all those gods and goddesses painted out overhead
-I always say I'm too thankful to have somebody about
-me that NOTHING can shock!"
-
-Archer burst into a laugh, and May echoed it, crimson
-to the eyes.
-
-"Well, now tell me all about the party, please, my
-dears, for I shall never get a straight word about it out
-of that silly Medora," the ancestress continued; and, as
-May exclaimed:  "Cousin Medora?  But I thought she
-was going back to Portsmouth?" she answered placidly:
-"So she is--but she's got to come here first to pick
-up Ellen.  Ah--you didn't know Ellen had come to
-spend the day with me?  Such fol-de-rol, her not coming
-for the summer; but I gave up arguing with young
-people about fifty years ago.  Ellen--ELLEN!" she cried in
-her shrill old voice, trying to bend forward far enough
-to catch a glimpse of the lawn beyond the verandah.
-
-There was no answer, and Mrs. Mingott rapped
-impatiently with her stick on the shiny floor.  A mulatto
-maid-servant in a bright turban, replying to the summons,
-informed her mistress that she had seen "Miss
-Ellen" going down the path to the shore; and Mrs.
-Mingott turned to Archer.
-
-"Run down and fetch her, like a good grandson; this
-pretty lady will describe the party to me," she said; and
-Archer stood up as if in a dream.
-
-He had heard the Countess Olenska's name pronounced
-often enough during the year and a half since
-they had last met, and was even familiar with the main
-incidents of her life in the interval.  He knew that she
-had spent the previous summer at Newport, where she
-appeared to have gone a great deal into society, but
-that in the autumn she had suddenly sub-let the "perfect
-house" which Beaufort had been at such pains to
-find for her, and decided to establish herself in
-Washington.  There, during the winter, he had heard of her
-(as one always heard of pretty women in Washington)
-as shining in the "brilliant diplomatic society" that was
-supposed to make up for the social short-comings of
-the Administration.  He had listened to these accounts,
-and to various contradictory reports on her appearance,
-her conversation, her point of view and her choice
-of friends, with the detachment with which one listens
-to reminiscences of some one long since dead; not till
-Medora suddenly spoke her name at the archery match
-had Ellen Olenska become a living presence to him
-again.  The Marchioness's foolish lisp had called up a
-vision of the little fire-lit drawing-room and the sound
-of the carriage-wheels returning down the deserted street.
-He thought of a story he had read, of some peasant
-children in Tuscany lighting a bunch of straw in a
-wayside cavern, and revealing old silent images in their
-painted tomb . . .
-
-The way to the shore descended from the bank on
-which the house was perched to a walk above the
-water planted with weeping willows.  Through their veil
-Archer caught the glint of the Lime Rock, with its
-white-washed turret and the tiny house in which the
-heroic light-house keeper, Ida Lewis, was living her last
-venerable years.  Beyond it lay the flat reaches and ugly
-government chimneys of Goat Island, the bay spreading
-northward in a shimmer of gold to Prudence Island
-with its low growth of oaks, and the shores of Conanicut
-faint in the sunset haze.
-
-From the willow walk projected a slight wooden pier
-ending in a sort of pagoda-like summer-house; and in
-the pagoda a lady stood, leaning against the rail, her
-back to the shore.  Archer stopped at the sight as if he
-had waked from sleep.  That vision of the past was a
-dream, and the reality was what awaited him in the
-house on the bank overhead: was Mrs. Welland's pony-
-carriage circling around and around the oval at the
-door, was May sitting under the shameless Olympians
-and glowing with secret hopes, was the Welland villa at
-the far end of Bellevue Avenue, and Mr. Welland,
-already dressed for dinner, and pacing the drawing-
-room floor, watch in hand, with dyspeptic impatience--
-for it was one of the houses in which one always knew
-exactly what is happening at a given hour.
-
-"What am I?  A son-in-law--" Archer thought.
-
-The figure at the end of the pier had not moved.  For
-a long moment the young man stood half way down
-the bank, gazing at the bay furrowed with the coming
-and going of sailboats, yacht-launches, fishing-craft and
-the trailing black coal-barges hauled by noisy tugs.  The
-lady in the summer-house seemed to be held by the
-same sight.  Beyond the grey bastions of Fort Adams a
-long-drawn sunset was splintering up into a thousand
-fires, and the radiance caught the sail of a catboat as it
-beat out through the channel between the Lime Rock
-and the shore.  Archer, as he watched, remembered the
-scene in the Shaughraun, and Montague lifting Ada
-Dyas's ribbon to his lips without her knowing that he
-was in the room.
-
-"She doesn't know--she hasn't guessed.  Shouldn't I
-know if she came up behind me, I wonder?" he mused;
-and suddenly he said to himself:  "If she doesn't turn
-before that sail crosses the Lime Rock light I'll go
-back."
-
-The boat was gliding out on the receding tide.  It slid
-before the Lime Rock, blotted out Ida Lewis's little
-house, and passed across the turret in which the light
-was hung.  Archer waited till a wide space of water
-sparkled between the last reef of the island and the
-stern of the boat; but still the figure in the summer-
-house did not move.
-
-He turned and walked up the hill.
-
-
-"I'm sorry you didn't find Ellen--I should have liked
-to see her again," May said as they drove home through
-the dusk.  "But perhaps she wouldn't have cared--she
-seems so changed."
-
-"Changed?" echoed her husband in a colourless voice,
-his eyes fixed on the ponies' twitching ears.
-
-"So indifferent to her friends, I mean; giving up New
-York and her house, and spending her time with such
-queer people.  Fancy how hideously uncomfortable she
-must be at the Blenkers'!  She says she does it to keep
-cousin Medora out of mischief: to prevent her marrying
-dreadful people.  But I sometimes think we've always
-bored her."
-
-Archer made no answer, and she continued, with a
-tinge of hardness that he had never before noticed in
-her frank fresh voice:  "After all, I wonder if she wouldn't
-be happier with her husband."
-
-He burst into a laugh.  "Sancta simplicitas!" he
-exclaimed; and as she turned a puzzled frown on him he
-added:  "I don't think I ever heard you say a cruel thing
-before."
-
-"Cruel?"
-
-"Well--watching the contortions of the damned is
-supposed to be a favourite sport of the angels; but I
-believe even they don't think people happier in hell."
-
-"It's a pity she ever married abroad then," said May,
-in the placid tone with which her mother met Mr.
-Welland's vagaries; and Archer felt himself gently relegated
-to the category of unreasonable husbands.
-
-They drove down Bellevue Avenue and turned in
-between the chamfered wooden gate-posts surmounted
-by cast-iron lamps which marked the approach to the
-Welland villa.  Lights were already shining through its
-windows, and Archer, as the carriage stopped, caught a
-glimpse of his father-in-law, exactly as he had pictured
-him, pacing the drawing-room, watch in hand and
-wearing the pained expression that he had long since
-found to be much more efficacious than anger.
-
-The young man, as he followed his wife into the hall,
-was conscious of a curious reversal of mood.  There
-was something about the luxury of the Welland house
-and the density of the Welland atmosphere, so charged
-with minute observances and exactions, that always
-stole into his system like a narcotic.  The heavy carpets,
-the watchful servants, the perpetually reminding tick of
-disciplined clocks, the perpetually renewed stack of
-cards and invitations on the hall table, the whole chain
-of tyrannical trifles binding one hour to the next, and
-each member of the household to all the others, made
-any less systematised and affluent existence seem unreal
-and precarious.  But now it was the Welland house,
-and the life he was expected to lead in it, that had
-become unreal and irrelevant, and the brief scene on
-the shore, when he had stood irresolute, halfway down
-the bank, was as close to him as the blood in his veins.
-
-All night he lay awake in the big chintz bedroom at
-May's side, watching the moonlight slant along the
-carpet, and thinking of Ellen Olenska driving home
-across the gleaming beaches behind Beaufort's trotters.
-
-
-
-XXII.
-
-A party for the Blenkers--the Blenkers?"
-
-Mr. Welland laid down his knife and fork and
-looked anxiously and incredulously across the luncheon-
-table at his wife, who, adjusting her gold eye-glasses,
-read aloud, in the tone of high comedy:  "Professor and
-Mrs. Emerson Sillerton request the pleasure of Mr. and
-Mrs. Welland's company at the meeting of the Wednesday
-Afternoon Club on August 25th at 3 o'clock
-punctually.  To meet Mrs. and the Misses Blenker.
-"Red Gables, Catherine Street.             R. S. V. P."
-
-"Good gracious--" Mr. Welland gasped, as if a second
-reading had been necessary to bring the monstrous
-absurdity of the thing home to him.
-
-"Poor Amy Sillerton--you never can tell what her
-husband will do next," Mrs. Welland sighed.  "I suppose
-he's just discovered the Blenkers."
-
-Professor Emerson Sillerton was a thorn in the side
-of Newport society; and a thorn that could not be
-plucked out, for it grew on a venerable and venerated
-family tree.  He was, as people said, a man who had
-had "every advantage."  His father was Sillerton Jackson's
-uncle, his mother a Pennilow of Boston; on each
-side there was wealth and position, and mutual
-suitability.  Nothing--as Mrs. Welland had often remarked--
-nothing on earth obliged Emerson Sillerton to be an
-archaeologist, or indeed a Professor of any sort, or to
-live in Newport in winter, or do any of the other
-revolutionary things that he did.  But at least, if he was
-going to break with tradition and flout society in the
-face, he need not have married poor Amy Dagonet,
-who had a right to expect "something different," and
-money enough to keep her own carriage.
-
-No one in the Mingott set could understand why
-Amy Sillerton had submitted so tamely to the eccentricities
-of a husband who filled the house with long-
-haired men and short-haired women, and, when he
-travelled, took her to explore tombs in Yucatan instead
-of going to Paris or Italy.  But there they were, set in
-their ways, and apparently unaware that they were
-different from other people; and when they gave one of
-their dreary annual garden-parties every family on the
-Cliffs, because of the Sillerton-Pennilow-Dagonet
-connection, had to draw lots and send an unwilling
-representative.
-
-"It's a wonder," Mrs. Welland remarked, "that they
-didn't choose the Cup Race day!  Do you remember,
-two years ago, their giving a party for a black man on
-the day of Julia Mingott's the dansant?  Luckily this
-time there's nothing else going on that I know of--for
-of course some of us will have to go."
-
-Mr. Welland sighed nervously.  "`Some of us,' my
-dear--more than one?  Three o'clock is such a very
-awkward hour.  I have to be here at half-past three to
-take my drops: it's really no use trying to follow
-Bencomb's new treatment if I don't do it systematically;
-and if I join you later, of course I shall miss my
-drive."  At the thought he laid down his knife and fork
-again, and a flush of anxiety rose to his finely-wrinkled
-cheek.
-
-"There's no reason why you should go at all, my
-dear," his wife answered with a cheerfulness that had
-become automatic.  "I have some cards to leave at the
-other end of Bellevue Avenue, and I'll drop in at about
-half-past three and stay long enough to make poor
-Amy feel that she hasn't been slighted."  She glanced
-hesitatingly at her daughter.  "And if Newland's afternoon
-is provided for perhaps May can drive you out
-with the ponies, and try their new russet harness."
-
-It was a principle in the Welland family that people's
-days and hours should be what Mrs. Welland called
-"provided for."  The melancholy possibility of having
-to "kill time" (especially for those who did not care for
-whist or solitaire) was a vision that haunted her as the
-spectre of the unemployed haunts the philanthropist.
-Another of her principles was that parents should never
-(at least visibly) interfere with the plans of their
-married children; and the difficulty of adjusting this respect
-for May's independence with the exigency of Mr. Welland's
-claims could be overcome only by the exercise of
-an ingenuity which left not a second of Mrs. Welland's
-own time unprovided for.
-
-"Of course I'll drive with Papa--I'm sure Newland
-will find something to do," May said, in a tone that
-gently reminded her husband of his lack of response.  It
-was a cause of constant distress to Mrs. Welland that
-her son-in-law showed so little foresight in planning his
-days.  Often already, during the fortnight that he had
-passed under her roof, when she enquired how he
-meant to spend his afternoon, he had answered
-paradoxically:  "Oh, I think for a change I'll just save it
-instead of spending it--" and once, when she and May
-had had to go on a long-postponed round of afternoon
-calls, he had confessed to having lain all the afternoon
-under a rock on the beach below the house.
-
-"Newland never seems to look ahead," Mrs. Welland
-once ventured to complain to her daughter; and
-May answered serenely:  "No; but you see it doesn't
-matter, because when there's nothing particular to do
-he reads a book."
-
-"Ah, yes--like his father!" Mrs. Welland agreed, as
-if allowing for an inherited oddity; and after that the
-question of Newland's unemployment was tacitly
-dropped.
-
-Nevertheless, as the day for the Sillerton reception
-approached, May began to show a natural solicitude
-for his welfare, and to suggest a tennis match at the
-Chiverses', or a sail on Julius Beaufort's cutter, as a
-means of atoning for her temporary desertion.  "I shall
-be back by six, you know, dear: Papa never drives later
-than that--" and she was not reassured till Archer said
-that he thought of hiring a run-about and driving up
-the island to a stud-farm to look at a second horse for
-her brougham.  They had been looking for this horse
-for some time, and the suggestion was so acceptable
-that May glanced at her mother as if to say:  "You see
-he knows how to plan out his time as well as any of
-us."
-
-The idea of the stud-farm and the brougham horse
-had germinated in Archer's mind on the very day when
-the Emerson Sillerton invitation had first been
-mentioned; but he had kept it to himself as if there were
-something clandestine in the plan, and discovery might
-prevent its execution.  He had, however, taken the
-precaution to engage in advance a runabout with a pair of
-old livery-stable trotters that could still do their
-eighteen miles on level roads; and at two o'clock, hastily
-deserting the luncheon-table, he sprang into the light
-carriage and drove off.
-
-The day was perfect.  A breeze from the north drove
-little puffs of white cloud across an ultramarine sky,
-with a bright sea running under it.  Bellevue Avenue
-was empty at that hour, and after dropping the stable-
-lad at the corner of Mill Street Archer turned down
-the Old Beach Road and drove across Eastman's Beach.
-
-He had the feeling of unexplained excitement with
-which, on half-holidays at school, he used to start off
-into the unknown.  Taking his pair at an easy gait, he
-counted on reaching the stud-farm, which was not far
-beyond Paradise Rocks, before three o'clock; so that,
-after looking over the horse (and trying him if he
-seemed promising) he would still have four golden
-hours to dispose of.
-
-As soon as he heard of the Sillerton's party he had
-said to himself that the Marchioness Manson would
-certainly come to Newport with the Blenkers, and that
-Madame Olenska might again take the opportunity of
-spending the day with her grandmother.  At any rate,
-the Blenker habitation would probably be deserted,
-and he would be able, without indiscretion, to satisfy a
-vague curiosity concerning it.  He was not sure that he
-wanted to see the Countess Olenska again; but ever
-since he had looked at her from the path above the bay
-he had wanted, irrationally and indescribably, to see
-the place she was living in, and to follow the movements
-of her imagined figure as he had watched the
-real one in the summer-house.  The longing was with
-him day and night, an incessant undefinable craving,
-like the sudden whim of a sick man for food or drink
-once tasted and long since forgotten.  He could not see
-beyond the craving, or picture what it might lead to,
-for he was not conscious of any wish to speak to
-Madame Olenska or to hear her voice.  He simply felt
-that if he could carry away the vision of the spot of
-earth she walked on, and the way the sky and sea
-enclosed it, the rest of the world might seem less empty.
-
-When he reached the stud-farm a glance showed him
-that the horse was not what he wanted; nevertheless he
-took a turn behind it in order to prove to himself that
-he was not in a hurry.  But at three o'clock he shook
-out the reins over the trotters and turned into the
-by-roads leading to Portsmouth.  The wind had dropped
-and a faint haze on the horizon showed that a fog was
-waiting to steal up the Saconnet on the turn of the tide;
-but all about him fields and woods were steeped in
-golden light.
-
-He drove past grey-shingled farm-houses in orchards,
-past hay-fields and groves of oak, past villages with
-white steeples rising sharply into the fading sky; and at
-last, after stopping to ask the way of some men at
-work in a field, he turned down a lane between high
-banks of goldenrod and brambles.  At the end of the
-lane was the blue glimmer of the river; to the left,
-standing in front of a clump of oaks and maples, he
-saw a long tumble-down house with white paint peeling
-from its clapboards.
-
-On the road-side facing the gateway stood one of the
-open sheds in which the New Englander shelters his
-farming implements and visitors "hitch" their "teams."
-Archer, jumping down, led his pair into the shed, and
-after tying them to a post turned toward the house.
-The patch of lawn before it had relapsed into a hay-
-field; but to the left an overgrown box-garden full of
-dahlias and rusty rose-bushes encircled a ghostly summer-
-house of trellis-work that had once been white,
-surmounted by a wooden Cupid who had lost his bow
-and arrow but continued to take ineffectual aim.
-
-Archer leaned for a while against the gate.  No one
-was in sight, and not a sound came from the open
-windows of the house: a grizzled Newfoundland dozing
-before the door seemed as ineffectual a guardian as
-the arrowless Cupid.  It was strange to think that this
-place of silence and decay was the home of the turbulent
-Blenkers; yet Archer was sure that he was not
-mistaken.
-
-For a long time he stood there, content to take in the
-scene, and gradually falling under its drowsy spell; but
-at length he roused himself to the sense of the passing
-time.  Should he look his fill and then drive away?  He
-stood irresolute, wishing suddenly to see the inside of
-the house, so that he might picture the room that
-Madame Olenska sat in.  There was nothing to prevent
-his walking up to the door and ringing the bell; if, as
-he supposed, she was away with the rest of the party,
-he could easily give his name, and ask permission to go
-into the sitting-room to write a message.
-
-But instead, he crossed the lawn and turned toward
-the box-garden.  As he entered it he caught sight of
-something bright-coloured in the summer-house, and
-presently made it out to be a pink parasol.  The parasol
-drew him like a magnet: he was sure it was hers.  He
-went into the summer-house, and sitting down on the
-rickety seat picked up the silken thing and looked at its
-carved handle, which was made of some rare wood
-that gave out an aromatic scent.  Archer lifted the handle
-to his lips.
-
-He heard a rustle of skirts against the box, and sat
-motionless, leaning on the parasol handle with clasped
-hands, and letting the rustle come nearer without lifting
-his eyes.  He had always known that this must
-happen . . .
-
-"Oh, Mr. Archer!" exclaimed a loud young voice;
-and looking up he saw before him the youngest and
-largest of the Blenker girls, blonde and blowsy, in
-bedraggled muslin.  A red blotch on one of her cheeks
-seemed to show that it had recently been pressed against
-a pillow, and her half-awakened eyes stared at him
-hospitably but confusedly.
-
-"Gracious--where did you drop from?  I must have
-been sound asleep in the hammock.  Everybody else has
-gone to Newport.  Did you ring?" she incoherently
-enquired.
-
-Archer's confusion was greater than hers.  "I--no--
-that is, I was just going to.  I had to come up the island
-to see about a horse, and I drove over on a chance of
-finding Mrs. Blenker and your visitors.  But the house
-seemed empty--so I sat down to wait."
-
-Miss Blenker, shaking off the fumes of sleep, looked
-at him with increasing interest.  "The house IS empty.
-Mother's not here, or the Marchioness--or anybody
-but me."  Her glance became faintly reproachful.  "Didn't
-you know that Professor and Mrs. Sillerton are giving a
-garden-party for mother and all of us this afternoon?  It
-was too unlucky that I couldn't go; but I've had a sore
-throat, and mother was afraid of the drive home this
-evening.  Did you ever know anything so disappointing?
-Of course," she added gaily, "I shouldn't have minded
-half as much if I'd known you were coming."
-
-Symptoms of a lumbering coquetry became visible in
-her, and Archer found the strength to break in:  "But
-Madame Olenska--has she gone to Newport too?"
-
-Miss Blenker looked at him with surprise.  "Madame
-Olenska--didn't you know she'd been called away?"
-
-"Called away?--"
-
-"Oh, my best parasol!  I lent it to that goose of a
-Katie, because it matched her ribbons, and the careless
-thing must have dropped it here.  We Blenkers are all
-like that . . . real Bohemians!"  Recovering the
-sunshade with a powerful hand she unfurled it and
-suspended its rosy dome above her head.  "Yes, Ellen was
-called away yesterday: she lets us call her Ellen, you
-know.  A telegram came from Boston: she said she
-might be gone for two days.  I do LOVE the way she does
-her hair, don't you?" Miss Blenker rambled on.
-
-Archer continued to stare through her as though she
-had been transparent.  All he saw was the trumpery
-parasol that arched its pinkness above her giggling
-head.
-
-After a moment he ventured:  "You don't happen to
-know why Madame Olenska went to Boston?  I hope it
-was not on account of bad news?"
-
-Miss Blenker took this with a cheerful incredulity.
-"Oh, I don't believe so.  She didn't tell us what was in
-the telegram.  I think she didn't want the Marchioness
-to know.  She's so romantic-looking, isn't she?  Doesn't
-she remind you of Mrs. Scott-Siddons when she reads
-`Lady Geraldine's Courtship'?  Did you never hear her?"
-
-Archer was dealing hurriedly with crowding thoughts.
-His whole future seemed suddenly to be unrolled
-before him; and passing down its endless emptiness he
-saw the dwindling figure of a man to whom nothing
-was ever to happen.  He glanced about him at the
-unpruned garden, the tumble-down house, and the oak-
-grove under which the dusk was gathering.  It had
-seemed so exactly the place in which he ought to have
-found Madame Olenska; and she was far away, and
-even the pink sunshade was not hers . . .
-
-He frowned and hesitated.  "You don't know, I
-suppose-- I shall be in Boston tomorrow.  If I could
-manage to see her--"
-
-He felt that Miss Blenker was losing interest in him,
-though her smile persisted.  "Oh, of course; how lovely
-of you!  She's staying at the Parker House; it must be
-horrible there in this weather."
-
-After that Archer was but intermittently aware of the
-remarks they exchanged.  He could only remember stoutly
-resisting her entreaty that he should await the returning
-family and have high tea with them before he drove
-home.  At length, with his hostess still at his side, he
-passed out of range of the wooden Cupid, unfastened his
-horses and drove off.  At the turn of the lane he saw Miss
-Blenker standing at the gate and waving the pink parasol.
-
-
-
-XXIII.
-
-The next morning, when Archer got out of the Fall
-River train, he emerged upon a steaming midsummer
-Boston.  The streets near the station were full of the
-smell of beer and coffee and decaying fruit and a shirt-
-sleeved populace moved through them with the intimate
-abandon of boarders going down the passage to
-the bathroom.
-
-Archer found a cab and drove to the Somerset Club
-for breakfast.  Even the fashionable quarters had the air
-of untidy domesticity to which no excess of heat ever
-degrades the European cities.  Care-takers in calico
-lounged on the door-steps of the wealthy, and the
-Common looked like a pleasure-ground on the morrow
-of a Masonic picnic.  If Archer had tried to imagine
-Ellen Olenska in improbable scenes he could not have
-called up any into which it was more difficult to fit her
-than this heat-prostrated and deserted Boston.
-
-He breakfasted with appetite and method, beginning
-with a slice of melon, and studying a morning paper
-while he waited for his toast and scrambled eggs.  A
-new sense of energy and activity had possessed him
-ever since he had announced to May the night before
-that he had business in Boston, and should take the
-Fall River boat that night and go on to New York the
-following evening.  It had always been understood that
-he would return to town early in the week, and when
-he got back from his expedition to Portsmouth a letter
-from the office, which fate had conspicuously placed
-on a corner of the hall table, sufficed to justify his
-sudden change of plan.  He was even ashamed of the
-ease with which the whole thing had been done: it
-reminded him, for an uncomfortable moment, of Lawrence
-Lefferts's masterly contrivances for securing his
-freedom.  But this did not long trouble him, for he was
-not in an analytic mood.
-
-After breakfast he smoked a cigarette and glanced
-over the Commercial Advertiser.  While he was thus
-engaged two or three men he knew came in, and the
-usual greetings were exchanged: it was the same world
-after all, though he had such a queer sense of having
-slipped through the meshes of time and space.
-
-He looked at his watch, and finding that it was
-half-past nine got up and went into the writing-room.
-There he wrote a few lines, and ordered a messenger to
-take a cab to the Parker House and wait for the
-answer.  He then sat down behind another newspaper and
-tried to calculate how long it would take a cab to get to
-the Parker House.
-
-"The lady was out, sir," he suddenly heard a waiter's
-voice at his elbow; and he stammered:  "Out?--" as if
-it were a word in a strange language.
-
-He got up and went into the hall.  It must be a
-mistake: she could not be out at that hour.  He flushed
-with anger at his own stupidity: why had he not sent
-the note as soon as he arrived?
-
-He found his hat and stick and went forth into the
-street.  The city had suddenly become as strange and
-vast and empty as if he were a traveller from distant
-lands.  For a moment he stood on the door-step hesitating;
-then he decided to go to the Parker House.  What if
-the messenger had been misinformed, and she were still
-there?
-
-He started to walk across the Common; and on the
-first bench, under a tree, he saw her sitting.  She had a
-grey silk sunshade over her head--how could he ever
-have imagined her with a pink one?  As he approached
-he was struck by her listless attitude: she sat there as if
-she had nothing else to do.  He saw her drooping profile,
-and the knot of hair fastened low in the neck
-under her dark hat, and the long wrinkled glove on the
-hand that held the sunshade.  He came a step or two
-nearer, and she turned and looked at him.
-
-"Oh"--she said; and for the first time he noticed a
-startled look on her face; but in another moment it
-gave way to a slow smile of wonder and contentment.
-
-"Oh"--she murmured again, on a different note, as
-he stood looking down at her; and without rising she
-made a place for him on the bench.
-
-"I'm here on business--just got here," Archer
-explained; and, without knowing why, he suddenly began
-to feign astonishment at seeing her.  "But what on earth
-are you doing in this wilderness?"  He had really no
-idea what he was saying: he felt as if he were shouting
-at her across endless distances, and she might vanish
-again before he could overtake her.
-
-"I?  Oh, I'm here on business too," she answered,
-turning her head toward him so that they were face to
-face.  The words hardly reached him: he was aware
-only of her voice, and of the startling fact that not an
-echo of it had remained in his memory.  He had not
-even remembered that it was low-pitched, with a faint
-roughness on the consonants.
-
-"You do your hair differently," he said, his heart
-beating as if he had uttered something irrevocable.
-
-"Differently?  No--it's only that I do it as best I can
-when I'm without Nastasia."
-
-"Nastasia; but isn't she with you?"
-
-"No; I'm alone.  For two days it was not worth while
-to bring her."
-
-"You're alone--at the Parker House?"
-
-She looked at him with a flash of her old malice.
-"Does it strike you as dangerous?"
-
-"No; not dangerous--"
-
-"But unconventional?  I see; I suppose it is."  She
-considered a moment.  "I hadn't thought of it, because
-I've just done something so much more unconventional."
-The faint tinge of irony lingered in her eyes.  "I've just
-refused to take back a sum of money--that belonged to
-me."
-
-Archer sprang up and moved a step or two away.
-She had furled her parasol and sat absently drawing
-patterns on the gravel.  Presently he came back and
-stood before her.
-
-"Some one--has come here to meet you?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"With this offer?"
-
-She nodded.
-
-"And you refused--because of the conditions?"
-
-"I refused," she said after a moment.
-
-He sat down by her again.  "What were the conditions?"
-
-"Oh, they were not onerous: just to sit at the head of
-his table now and then."
-
-There was another interval of silence.  Archer's heart
-had slammed itself shut in the queer way it had, and he
-sat vainly groping for a word.
-
-"He wants you back--at any price?"
-
-"Well--a considerable price.  At least the sum is
-considerable for me."
-
-He paused again, beating about the question he felt
-he must put.
-
-"It was to meet him here that you came?"
-
-She stared, and then burst into a laugh.  "Meet
-him--my husband?  HERE?  At this season he's always at
-Cowes or Baden."
-
-"He sent some one?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"With a letter?"
-
-She shook her head.  "No; just a message.  He never
-writes.  I don't think I've had more than one letter from
-him."  The allusion brought the colour to her cheek,
-and it reflected itself in Archer's vivid blush.
-
-"Why does he never write?"
-
-"Why should he?  What does one have secretaries
-for?"
-
-The young man's blush deepened.  She had pronounced
-the word as if it had no more significance than any
-other in her vocabulary.  For a moment it was on the
-tip of his tongue to ask:  "Did he send his secretary,
-then?"  But the remembrance of Count Olenski's only
-letter to his wife was too present to him.  He paused
-again, and then took another plunge.
-
-"And the person?"--
-
-"The emissary?  The emissary," Madame Olenska
-rejoined, still smiling, "might, for all I care, have left
-already; but he has insisted on waiting till this evening
-. . . in case . . . on the chance . . ."
-
-"And you came out here to think the chance over?"
-
-"I came out to get a breath of air.  The hotel's too
-stifling.  I'm taking the afternoon train back to Portsmouth."
-
-They sat silent, not looking at each other, but straight
-ahead at the people passing along the path.  Finally she
-turned her eyes again to his face and said:  "You're not
-changed."
-
-He felt like answering:  "I was, till I saw you again;"
-but instead he stood up abruptly and glanced about
-him at the untidy sweltering park.
-
-"This is horrible.  Why shouldn't we go out a little on
-the bay?  There's a breeze, and it will be cooler.  We
-might take the steamboat down to Point Arley."  She
-glanced up at him hesitatingly and he went on:  "On a
-Monday morning there won't be anybody on the boat.
-My train doesn't leave till evening: I'm going back to
-New York.  Why shouldn't we?" he insisted, looking
-down at her; and suddenly he broke out:  "Haven't we
-done all we could?"
-
-"Oh"--she murmured again.  She stood up and
-reopened her sunshade, glancing about her as if to take
-counsel of the scene, and assure herself of the impossibility
-of remaining in it.  Then her eyes returned to his
-face.  "You mustn't say things like that to me," she
-said.
-
-"I'll say anything you like; or nothing.  I won't open
-my mouth unless you tell me to.  What harm can it do
-to anybody?  All I want is to listen to you," he
-stammered.
-
-She drew out a little gold-faced watch on an
-enamelled chain.  "Oh, don't calculate," he broke out; "give
-me the day!  I want to get you away from that man.  At
-what time was he coming?"
-
-Her colour rose again.  "At eleven."
-
-"Then you must come at once."
-
-"You needn't be afraid--if I don't come."
-
-"Nor you either--if you do.  I swear I only want to
-hear about you, to know what you've been doing.  It's a
-hundred years since we've met--it may be another
-hundred before we meet again."
-
-She still wavered, her anxious eyes on his face.  "Why
-didn't you come down to the beach to fetch me, the
-day I was at Granny's?" she asked.
-
-"Because you didn't look round--because you didn't
-know I was there.  I swore I wouldn't unless you looked
-round."  He laughed as the childishness of the confession
-struck him.
-
-"But I didn't look round on purpose."
-
-"On purpose?"
-
-"I knew you were there; when you drove in I
-recognised the ponies.  So I went down to the beach."
-
-"To get away from me as far as you could?"
-
-She repeated in a low voice:  "To get away from you
-as far as I could."
-
-He laughed out again, this time in boyish satisfaction.
-"Well, you see it's no use.  I may as well tell you,"
-he added, "that the business I came here for was just to
-find you.  But, look here, we must start or we shall miss
-our boat."
-
-"Our boat?"  She frowned perplexedly, and then
-smiled.  "Oh, but I must go back to the hotel first:  I
-must leave a note--"
-
-"As many notes as you please.  You can write here."
-He drew out a note-case and one of the new stylographic
-pens.  "I've even got an envelope--you see how
-everything's predestined!  There--steady the thing on
-your knee, and I'll get the pen going in a second.  They
-have to be humoured; wait--"  He banged the hand
-that held the pen against the back of the bench.  "It's
-like jerking down the mercury in a thermometer: just a
-trick.  Now try--"
-
-She laughed, and bending over the sheet of paper
-which he had laid on his note-case, began to write.
-Archer walked away a few steps, staring with radiant
-unseeing eyes at the passersby, who, in their turn,
-paused to stare at the unwonted sight of a fashionably-
-dressed lady writing a note on her knee on a bench in
-the Common.
-
-Madame Olenska slipped the sheet into the envelope,
-wrote a name on it, and put it into her pocket.  Then
-she too stood up.
-
-They walked back toward Beacon Street, and near
-the club Archer caught sight of the plush-lined "herdic"
-which had carried his note to the Parker House,
-and whose driver was reposing from this effort by
-bathing his brow at the corner hydrant.
-
-"I told you everything was predestined!  Here's a cab
-for us.  You see!"  They laughed, astonished at the miracle
-of picking up a public conveyance at that hour, and
-in that unlikely spot, in a city where cab-stands were
-still a "foreign" novelty.
-
-Archer, looking at his watch, saw that there was
-time to drive to the Parker House before going to the
-steamboat landing.  They rattled through the hot streets
-and drew up at the door of the hotel.
-
-Archer held out his hand for the letter.  "Shall I take
-it in?" he asked; but Madame Olenska, shaking her
-head, sprang out and disappeared through the glazed
-doors.  It was barely half-past ten; but what if the
-emissary, impatient for her reply, and not knowing how
-else to employ his time, were already seated among the
-travellers with cooling drinks at their elbows of whom
-Archer had caught a glimpse as she went in?
-
-He waited, pacing up and down before the herdic.  A
-Sicilian youth with eyes like Nastasia's offered to shine
-his boots, and an Irish matron to sell him peaches; and
-every few moments the doors opened to let out hot
-men with straw hats tilted far back, who glanced at
-him as they went by.  He marvelled that the door should
-open so often, and that all the people it let out should
-look so like each other, and so like all the other hot
-men who, at that hour, through the length and breadth
-of the land, were passing continuously in and out of
-the swinging doors of hotels.
-
-And then, suddenly, came a face that he could not
-relate to the other faces.  He caught but a flash of it, for
-his pacings had carried him to the farthest point of his
-beat, and it was in turning back to the hotel that he
-saw, in a group of typical countenances--the lank and
-weary, the round and surprised, the lantern-jawed and
-mild--this other face that was so many more things at
-once, and things so different.  It was that of a young
-man, pale too, and half-extinguished by the heat, or
-worry, or both, but somehow, quicker, vivider, more
-conscious; or perhaps seeming so because he was so
-different.  Archer hung a moment on a thin thread of
-memory, but it snapped and floated off with the disappearing
-face--apparently that of some foreign business
-man, looking doubly foreign in such a setting.  He
-vanished in the stream of passersby, and Archer
-resumed his patrol.
-
-He did not care to be seen watch in hand within
-view of the hotel, and his unaided reckoning of the
-lapse of time led him to conclude that, if Madame
-Olenska was so long in reappearing, it could only be
-because she had met the emissary and been waylaid by
-him.  At the thought Archer's apprehension rose to
-anguish.
-
-"If she doesn't come soon I'll go in and find her," he
-said.
-
-The doors swung open again and she was at his side.
-They got into the herdic, and as it drove off he took
-out his watch and saw that she had been absent just
-three minutes.  In the clatter of loose windows that
-made talk impossible they bumped over the disjointed
-cobblestones to the wharf.
-
-
-Seated side by side on a bench of the half-empty boat
-they found that they had hardly anything to say to each
-other, or rather that what they had to say communicated
-itself best in the blessed silence of their release
-and their isolation.
-
-As the paddle-wheels began to turn, and wharves
-and shipping to recede through the veil of heat, it
-seemed to Archer that everything in the old familiar
-world of habit was receding also.  He longed to ask
-Madame Olenska if she did not have the same feeling:
-the feeling that they were starting on some long voyage
-from which they might never return.  But he was afraid
-to say it, or anything else that might disturb the delicate
-balance of her trust in him.  In reality he had no
-wish to betray that trust.  There had been days and
-nights when the memory of their kiss had burned and
-burned on his lips; the day before even, on the drive to
-Portsmouth, the thought of her had run through him
-like fire; but now that she was beside him, and they
-were drifting forth into this unknown world, they seemed
-to have reached the kind of deeper nearness that a
-touch may sunder.
-
-As the boat left the harbour and turned seaward a
-breeze stirred about them and the bay broke up into
-long oily undulations, then into ripples tipped with
-spray.  The fog of sultriness still hung over the city, but
-ahead lay a fresh world of ruffled waters, and distant
-promontories with light-houses in the sun.  Madame
-Olenska, leaning back against the boat-rail, drank in
-the coolness between parted lips.  She had wound a
-long veil about her hat, but it left her face uncovered,
-and Archer was struck by the tranquil gaiety of her
-expression.  She seemed to take their adventure as a
-matter of course, and to be neither in fear of unexpected
-encounters, nor (what was worse) unduly elated
-by their possibility.
-
-In the bare dining-room of the inn, which he had
-hoped they would have to themselves, they found a
-strident party of innocent-looking young men and
-women--school-teachers on a holiday, the landlord told
-them--and Archer's heart sank at the idea of having to
-talk through their noise.
-
-"This is hopeless--I'll ask for a private room," he
-said; and Madame Olenska, without offering any objection,
-waited while he went in search of it.  The room
-opened on a long wooden verandah, with the sea coming
-in at the windows.  It was bare and cool, with a
-table covered with a coarse checkered cloth and adorned
-by a bottle of pickles and a blueberry pie under a cage.
-No more guileless-looking cabinet particulier ever
-offered its shelter to a clandestine couple: Archer fancied
-he saw the sense of its reassurance in the faintly amused
-smile with which Madame Olenska sat down opposite
-to him.  A woman who had run away from her husband--
-and reputedly with another man--was likely to have
-mastered the art of taking things for granted; but
-something in the quality of her composure took the edge
-from his irony.  By being so quiet, so unsurprised and
-so simple she had managed to brush away the conventions
-and make him feel that to seek to be alone was
-the natural thing for two old friends who had so much
-to say to each other. . . .
-
-
-
-XXIV.
-
-They lunched slowly and meditatively, with mute
-intervals between rushes of talk; for, the spell once
-broken, they had much to say, and yet moments when
-saying became the mere accompaniment to long duologues
-of silence.  Archer kept the talk from his own
-affairs, not with conscious intention but because he did
-not want to miss a word of her history; and leaning on
-the table, her chin resting on her clasped hands, she
-talked to him of the year and a half since they had met.
-
-She had grown tired of what people called "society";
-New York was kind, it was almost oppressively
-hospitable; she should never forget the way in which it had
-welcomed her back; but after the first flush of novelty
-she had found herself, as she phrased it, too "different"
-to care for the things it cared about--and so she had
-decided to try Washington, where one was supposed to
-meet more varieties of people and of opinion.  And on
-the whole she should probably settle down in Washington,
-and make a home there for poor Medora, who
-had worn out the patience of all her other relations just
-at the time when she most needed looking after and
-protecting from matrimonial perils.
-
-"But Dr. Carver--aren't you afraid of Dr. Carver?  I
-hear he's been staying with you at the Blenkers'."
-
-She smiled.  "Oh, the Carver danger is over.  Dr.
-Carver is a very clever man.  He wants a rich wife to
-finance his plans, and Medora is simply a good
-advertisement as a convert."
-
-"A convert to what?"
-
-"To all sorts of new and crazy social schemes.  But,
-do you know, they interest me more than the blind
-conformity to tradition--somebody else's tradition--that
-I see among our own friends.  It seems stupid to have
-discovered America only to make it into a copy of another
-country."  She smiled across the table.  "Do you suppose
-Christopher Columbus would have taken all that trouble
-just to go to the Opera with the Selfridge Merrys?"
-
-Archer changed colour.  "And Beaufort--do you say
-these things to Beaufort?" he asked abruptly.
-
-"I haven't seen him for a long time.  But I used to;
-and he understands."
-
-"Ah, it's what I've always told you; you don't like
-us. And you like Beaufort because he's so unlike us."
-He looked about the bare room and out at the bare
-beach and the row of stark white village houses strung
-along the shore.  "We're damnably dull.  We've no
-character, no colour, no variety.--I wonder," he broke out,
-"why you don't go back?"
-
-Her eyes darkened, and he expected an indignant
-rejoinder.  But she sat silent, as if thinking over what he
-had said, and he grew frightened lest she should answer
-that she wondered too.
-
-At length she said:  "I believe it's because of you."
-
-It was impossible to make the confession more
-dispassionately, or in a tone less encouraging to the
-vanity of the person addressed.  Archer reddened to the
-temples, but dared not move or speak: it was as if her
-words had been some rare butterfly that the least motion
-might drive off on startled wings, but that might
-gather a flock about it if it were left undisturbed.
-
-"At least," she continued, "it was you who made me
-understand that under the dullness there are things so
-fine and sensitive and delicate that even those I most
-cared for in my other life look cheap in comparison.  I
-don't know how to explain myself"--she drew together
-her troubled brows-- "but it seems as if I'd
-never before understood with how much that is hard
-and shabby and base the most exquisite pleasures may
-be paid."
-
-"Exquisite pleasures--it's something to have had
-them!" he felt like retorting; but the appeal in her eyes
-kept him silent.
-
-"I want," she went on, "to be perfectly honest with
-you--and with myself.  For a long time I've hoped this
-chance would come: that I might tell you how you've
-helped me, what you've made of me--"
-
-Archer sat staring beneath frowning brows.  He
-interrupted her with a laugh.  "And what do you make out
-that you've made of me?"
-
-She paled a little.  "Of you?"
-
-"Yes: for I'm of your making much more than you
-ever were of mine.  I'm the man who married one
-woman because another one told him to."
-
-Her paleness turned to a fugitive flush.  "I thought--
-you promised--you were not to say such things today."
-
-"Ah--how like a woman!  None of you will ever see
-a bad business through!"
-
-She lowered her voice.  "IS it a bad business--for
-May?"
-
-He stood in the window, drumming against the raised
-sash, and feeling in every fibre the wistful tenderness
-with which she had spoken her cousin's name.
-
-"For that's the thing we've always got to think of--
-haven't we--by your own showing?" she insisted.
-
-"My own showing?" he echoed, his blank eyes still
-on the sea.
-
-"Or if not," she continued, pursuing her own thought
-with a painful application, "if it's not worth while to
-have given up, to have missed things, so that others
-may be saved from disillusionment and misery--then
-everything I came home for, everything that made my
-other life seem by contrast so bare and so poor because
-no one there took account of them--all these things are
-a sham or a dream--"
-
-He turned around without moving from his place.
-"And in that case there's no reason on earth why you
-shouldn't go back?" he concluded for her.
-
-Her eyes were clinging to him desperately.  "Oh, IS
-there no reason?"
-
-"Not if you staked your all on the success of my
-marriage.  My marriage," he said savagely, "isn't going
-to be a sight to keep you here."  She made no answer,
-and he went on:  "What's the use?  You gave me my
-first glimpse of a real life, and at the same moment you
-asked me to go on with a sham one.  It's beyond human
-enduring--that's all."
-
-"Oh, don't say that; when I'm enduring it!" she
-burst out, her eyes filling.
-
-Her arms had dropped along the table, and she sat
-with her face abandoned to his gaze as if in the
-recklessness of a desperate peril.  The face exposed her as
-much as if it had been her whole person, with the soul
-behind it: Archer stood dumb, overwhelmed by what it
-suddenly told him.
-
-"You too--oh, all this time, you too?"
-
-For answer, she let the tears on her lids overflow and
-run slowly downward.
-
-Half the width of the room was still between them,
-and neither made any show of moving.  Archer was
-conscious of a curious indifference to her bodily presence:
-he would hardly have been aware of it if one of
-the hands she had flung out on the table had not drawn
-his gaze as on the occasion when, in the little Twenty-
-third Street house, he had kept his eye on it in order
-not to look at her face.  Now his imagination spun
-about the hand as about the edge of a vortex; but still
-he made no effort to draw nearer.  He had known the
-love that is fed on caresses and feeds them; but this
-passion that was closer than his bones was not to be
-superficially satisfied.  His one terror was to do anything
-which might efface the sound and impression of
-her words; his one thought, that he should never again
-feel quite alone.
-
-But after a moment the sense of waste and ruin
-overcame him.  There they were, close together and safe
-and shut in; yet so chained to their separate destinies
-that they might as well have been half the world apart.
-
-"What's the use--when you will go back?" he broke
-out, a great hopeless HOW ON EARTH CAN I KEEP YOU?
-crying out to her beneath his words.
-
-She sat motionless, with lowered lids.  "Oh--I shan't
-go yet!"
-
-"Not yet?  Some time, then?  Some time that you
-already foresee?"
-
-At that she raised her clearest eyes.  "I promise you:
-not as long as you hold out.  Not as long as we can
-look straight at each other like this."
-
-He dropped into his chair.  What her answer really
-said was:  "If you lift a finger you'll drive me back:
-back to all the abominations you know of, and all the
-temptations you half guess."  He understood it as clearly
-as if she had uttered the words, and the thought kept
-him anchored to his side of the table in a kind of
-moved and sacred submission.
-
-"What a life for you!--" he groaned.
-
-"Oh--as long as it's a part of yours."
-
-"And mine a part of yours?"
-
-She nodded.
-
-"And that's to be all--for either of us?"
-
-"Well; it IS all, isn't it?"
-
-At that he sprang up, forgetting everything but the
-sweetness of her face.  She rose too, not as if to meet
-him or to flee from him, but quietly, as though the
-worst of the task were done and she had only to wait;
-so quietly that, as he came close, her outstretched hands
-acted not as a check but as a guide to him.  They fell
-into his, while her arms, extended but not rigid, kept
-him far enough off to let her surrendered face say the
-rest.
-
-They may have stood in that way for a long time, or
-only for a few moments; but it was long enough for her
-silence to communicate all she had to say, and for him
-to feel that only one thing mattered.  He must do nothing
-to make this meeting their last; he must leave their
-future in her care, asking only that she should keep fast
-hold of it.
-
-"Don't--don't be unhappy," she said, with a break
-in her voice, as she drew her hands away; and he
-answered:  "You won't go back--you won't go back?"
-as if it were the one possibility he could not bear.
-
-"I won't go back," she said; and turning away she
-opened the door and led the way into the public
-dining-room.
-
-The strident school-teachers were gathering up their
-possessions preparatory to a straggling flight to the wharf;
-across the beach lay the white steam-boat at the pier;
-and over the sunlit waters Boston loomed in a line of haze.
-
-
-
-XXV.
-
-Once more on the boat, and in the presence of others,
-Archer felt a tranquillity of spirit that surprised as
-much as it sustained him.
-
-The day, according to any current valuation, had
-been a rather ridiculous failure; he had not so much as
-touched Madame Olenska's hand with his lips, or
-extracted one word from her that gave promise of farther
-opportunities.  Nevertheless, for a man sick with
-unsatisfied love, and parting for an indefinite period from
-the object of his passion, he felt himself almost
-humiliatingly calm and comforted.  It was the perfect balance
-she had held between their loyalty to others and their
-honesty to themselves that had so stirred and yet
-tranquillized him; a balance not artfully calculated, as her
-tears and her falterings showed, but resulting naturally
-from her unabashed sincerity.  It filled him with a tender
-awe, now the danger was over, and made him
-thank the fates that no personal vanity, no sense of
-playing a part before sophisticated witnesses, had
-tempted him to tempt her.  Even after they had clasped
-hands for good-bye at the Fall River station, and he
-had turned away alone, the conviction remained with
-him of having saved out of their meeting much more
-than he had sacrificed.
-
-He wandered back to the club, and went and sat
-alone in the deserted library, turning and turning over
-in his thoughts every separate second of their hours
-together.  It was clear to him, and it grew more clear
-under closer scrutiny, that if she should finally decide
-on returning to Europe--returning to her husband--it
-would not be because her old life tempted her, even on
-the new terms offered.  No: she would go only if she
-felt herself becoming a temptation to Archer, a
-temptation to fall away from the standard they had both set
-up.  Her choice would be to stay near him as long as he
-did not ask her to come nearer; and it depended on
-himself to keep her just there, safe but secluded.
-
-In the train these thoughts were still with him.  They
-enclosed him in a kind of golden haze, through which
-the faces about him looked remote and indistinct: he
-had a feeling that if he spoke to his fellow-travellers
-they would not understand what he was saying.  In this
-state of abstraction he found himself, the following
-morning, waking to the reality of a stifling September
-day in New York.  The heat-withered faces in the long
-train streamed past him, and he continued to stare at
-them through the same golden blur; but suddenly, as
-he left the station, one of the faces detached itself, came
-closer and forced itself upon his consciousness.  It was,
-as he instantly recalled, the face of the young man he
-had seen, the day before, passing out of the Parker
-House, and had noted as not conforming to type, as
-not having an American hotel face.
-
-The same thing struck him now; and again he became
-aware of a dim stir of former associations.  The
-young man stood looking about him with the dazed air
-of the foreigner flung upon the harsh mercies of American
-travel; then he advanced toward Archer, lifted his
-hat, and said in English:  "Surely, Monsieur, we met in
-London?"
-
-"Ah, to be sure: in London!"  Archer grasped his
-hand with curiosity and sympathy.  "So you DID get
-here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting a wondering eye
-on the astute and haggard little countenance of young
-Carfry's French tutor.
-
-"Oh, I got here--yes," M. Riviere smiled with drawn
-lips.  "But not for long; I return the day after tomorrow."
-He stood grasping his light valise in one neatly
-gloved hand, and gazing anxiously, perplexedly, almost
-appealingly, into Archer's face.
-
-"I wonder, Monsieur, since I've had the good luck to
-run across you, if I might--"
-
-"I was just going to suggest it: come to luncheon,
-won't you?  Down town, I mean: if you'll look me up in
-my office I'll take you to a very decent restaurant in
-that quarter."
-
-M. Riviere was visibly touched and surprised.  "You're
-too kind.  But I was only going to ask if you would tell
-me how to reach some sort of conveyance.  There are
-no porters, and no one here seems to listen--"
-
-"I know: our American stations must surprise you.
-When you ask for a porter they give you chewing-gum.
-But if you'll come along I'll extricate you; and you
-must really lunch with me, you know."
-
-The young man, after a just perceptible hesitation,
-replied, with profuse thanks, and in a tone that did not
-carry complete conviction, that he was already engaged;
-but when they had reached the comparative
-reassurance of the street he asked if he might call that
-afternoon.
-
-Archer, at ease in the midsummer leisure of the
-office, fixed an hour and scribbled his address, which the
-Frenchman pocketed with reiterated thanks and a wide
-flourish of his hat.  A horse-car received him, and Archer
-walked away.
-
-Punctually at the hour M. Riviere appeared, shaved,
-smoothed-out, but still unmistakably drawn and serious.
-Archer was alone in his office, and the young man,
-before accepting the seat he proffered, began abruptly:
-"I believe I saw you, sir, yesterday in Boston."
-
-The statement was insignificant enough, and Archer
-was about to frame an assent when his words were
-checked by something mysterious yet illuminating in
-his visitor's insistent gaze.
-
-"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Riviere
-continued, "that we should have met in the circumstances
-in which I find myself."
-
-"What circumstances?" Archer asked, wondering a
-little crudely if he needed money.
-
-M. Riviere continued to study him with tentative
-eyes.  "I have come, not to look for employment, as I
-spoke of doing when we last met, but on a special
-mission--"
-
-"Ah--!" Archer exclaimed.  In a flash the two
-meetings had connected themselves in his mind.  He paused
-to take in the situation thus suddenly lighted up for
-him, and M. Riviere also remained silent, as if aware
-that what he had said was enough.
-
-"A special mission," Archer at length repeated.
-
-The young Frenchman, opening his palms, raised
-them slightly, and the two men continued to look at
-each other across the office-desk till Archer roused
-himself to say:  "Do sit down"; whereupon M. Riviere
-bowed, took a distant chair, and again waited.
-
-"It was about this mission that you wanted to
-consult me?" Archer finally asked.
-
-M. Riviere bent his head.  "Not in my own behalf:
-on that score I--I have fully dealt with myself.  I should
-like--if I may--to speak to you about the Countess
-Olenska."
-
-Archer had known for the last few minutes that the
-words were coming; but when they came they sent the
-blood rushing to his temples as if he had been caught
-by a bent-back branch in a thicket.
-
-"And on whose behalf," he said, "do you wish to do
-this?"
-
-M. Riviere met the question sturdily.  "Well--I might
-say HERS, if it did not sound like a liberty.  Shall I say
-instead: on behalf of abstract justice?"
-
-Archer considered him ironically.  "In other words:
-you are Count Olenski's messenger?"
-
-He saw his blush more darkly reflected in M. Riviere's
-sallow countenance.  "Not to YOU, Monsieur.  If I come
-to you, it is on quite other grounds."
-
-"What right have you, in the circumstances, to BE on
-any other ground?" Archer retorted.  "If you're an
-emissary you're an emissary."
-
-The young man considered.  "My mission is over: as
-far as the Countess Olenska goes, it has failed."
-
-"I can't help that," Archer rejoined on the same note
-of irony.
-
-"No: but you can help--"  M. Riviere paused, turned
-his hat about in his still carefully gloved hands, looked
-into its lining and then back at Archer's face.  "You can
-help, Monsieur, I am convinced, to make it equally a
-failure with her family."
-
-Archer pushed back his chair and stood up.  "Well--
-and by God I will!" he exclaimed.  He stood with his
-hands in his pockets, staring down wrathfully at the
-little Frenchman, whose face, though he too had risen,
-was still an inch or two below the line of Archer's eyes.
-
-M. Riviere paled to his normal hue: paler than that
-his complexion could hardly turn.
-
-"Why the devil," Archer explosively continued,
-"should you have thought--since I suppose you're
-appealing to me on the ground of my relationship to
-Madame Olenska--that I should take a view contrary
-to the rest of her family?"
-
-The change of expression in M. Riviere's face was
-for a time his only answer.  His look passed from timidity
-to absolute distress: for a young man of his usually
-resourceful mien it would have been difficult to appear
-more disarmed and defenceless.  "Oh, Monsieur--"
-
-"I can't imagine," Archer continued, "why you should
-have come to me when there are others so much nearer
-to the Countess; still less why you thought I should be
-more accessible to the arguments I suppose you were
-sent over with."
-
-M. Riviere took this onslaught with a disconcerting
-humility.  "The arguments I want to present to you,
-Monsieur, are my own and not those I was sent over
-with."
-
-"Then I see still less reason for listening to them."
-
-M. Riviere again looked into his hat, as if considering
-whether these last words were not a sufficiently
-broad hint to put it on and be gone.  Then he spoke
-with sudden decision.  "Monsieur--will you tell me one
-thing?  Is it my right to be here that you question?  Or
-do you perhaps believe the whole matter to be already
-closed?"
-
-His quiet insistence made Archer feel the clumsiness
-of his own bluster.  M. Riviere had succeeded in imposing
-himself:  Archer, reddening slightly, dropped into
-his chair again, and signed to the young man to be
-seated.
-
-"I beg your pardon: but why isn't the matter closed?"
-
-M. Riviere gazed back at him with anguish.  "You
-do, then, agree with the rest of the family that, in face
-of the new proposals I have brought, it is hardly possible
-for Madame Olenska not to return to her husband?"
-
-"Good God!" Archer exclaimed; and his visitor gave
-out a low murmur of confirmation.
-
-"Before seeing her, I saw--at Count Olenski's
-request--Mr. Lovell Mingott, with whom I had several
-talks before going to Boston.  I understand that he
-represents his mother's view; and that Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's influence is great throughout her family."
-
-Archer sat silent, with the sense of clinging to the
-edge of a sliding precipice.  The discovery that he had
-been excluded from a share in these negotiations, and
-even from the knowledge that they were on foot, caused
-him a surprise hardly dulled by the acuter wonder of
-what he was learning.  He saw in a flash that if the
-family had ceased to consult him it was because some
-deep tribal instinct warned them that he was no longer
-on their side; and he recalled, with a start of comprehension,
-a remark of May's during their drive home
-from Mrs. Manson Mingott's on the day of the Archery
-Meeting:  "Perhaps, after all, Ellen would be happier
-with her husband."
-
-Even in the tumult of new discoveries Archer remembered
-his indignant exclamation, and the fact that since
-then his wife had never named Madame Olenska to
-him.  Her careless allusion had no doubt been the straw
-held up to see which way the wind blew; the result had
-been reported to the family, and thereafter Archer had
-been tacitly omitted from their counsels.  He admired
-the tribal discipline which made May bow to this decision.
-She would not have done so, he knew, had her
-conscience protested; but she probably shared the family
-view that Madame Olenska would be better off as
-an unhappy wife than as a separated one, and that
-there was no use in discussing the case with Newland,
-who had an awkward way of suddenly not seeming to
-take the most fundamental things for granted.
-
-Archer looked up and met his visitor's anxious gaze.
-"Don't you know, Monsieur--is it possible you don't
-know--that the family begin to doubt if they have the
-right to advise the Countess to refuse her husband's
-last proposals?"
-
-"The proposals you brought?"
-
-"The proposals I brought."
-
-It was on Archer's lips to exclaim that whatever he
-knew or did not know was no concern of M. Riviere's;
-but something in the humble and yet courageous tenacity
-of M. Riviere's gaze made him reject this conclusion,
-and he met the young man's question with another.
-"What is your object in speaking to me of this?"
-
-He had not to wait a moment for the answer.  "To
-beg you, Monsieur--to beg you with all the force I'm
-capable of--not to let her go back.--Oh, don't let
-her!" M. Riviere exclaimed.
-
-Archer looked at him with increasing astonishment.
-There was no mistaking the sincerity of his distress or
-the strength of his determination: he had evidently
-resolved to let everything go by the board but the
-supreme need of thus putting himself on record.  Archer
-considered.
-
-"May I ask," he said at length, "if this is the line you
-took with the Countess Olenska?"
-
-M. Riviere reddened, but his eyes did not falter.
-"No, Monsieur: I accepted my mission in good faith.  I
-really believed--for reasons I need not trouble you
-with--that it would be better for Madame Olenska to
-recover her situation, her fortune, the social consideration
-that her husband's standing gives her."
-
-"So I supposed: you could hardly have accepted such
-a mission otherwise."
-
-"I should not have accepted it."
-
-"Well, then--?"  Archer paused again, and their eyes
-met in another protracted scrutiny.
-
-"Ah, Monsieur, after I had seen her, after I had
-listened to her, I knew she was better off here."
-
-"You knew--?"
-
-"Monsieur, I discharged my mission faithfully: I put
-the Count's arguments, I stated his offers, without adding
-any comment of my own.  The Countess was good
-enough to listen patiently; she carried her goodness so
-far as to see me twice; she considered impartially all I
-had come to say.  And it was in the course of these two
-talks that I changed my mind, that I came to see things
-differently."
-
-"May I ask what led to this change?"
-
-"Simply seeing the change in HER," M. Riviere replied.
-
-"The change in her?  Then you knew her before?"
-
-The young man's colour again rose.  "I used to see
-her in her husband's house.  I have known Count Olenski
-for many years.  You can imagine that he would not
-have sent a stranger on such a mission."
-
-Archer's gaze, wandering away to the blank walls of
-the office, rested on a hanging calendar surmounted by
-the rugged features of the President of the United States.
-That such a conversation should be going on anywhere
-within the millions of square miles subject to his rule
-seemed as strange as anything that the imagination
-could invent.
-
-"The change--what sort of a change?"
-
-"Ah, Monsieur, if I could tell you!"  M. Riviere paused.
-"Tenez--the discovery, I suppose, of what I'd never
-thought of before: that she's an American.  And that if
-you're an American of HER kind--of your kind--things
-that are accepted in certain other societies, or at least
-put up with as part of a general convenient give-and-
-take--become unthinkable, simply unthinkable.  If
-Madame Olenska's relations understood what these things
-were, their opposition to her returning would no doubt
-be as unconditional as her own; but they seem to
-regard her husband's wish to have her back as proof of
-an irresistible longing for domestic life."  M. Riviere
-paused, and then added:  "Whereas it's far from being
-as simple as that."
-
-Archer looked back to the President of the United
-States, and then down at his desk and at the papers
-scattered on it.  For a second or two he could not trust
-himself to speak.  During this interval he heard M.
-Riviere's chair pushed back, and was aware that the
-young man had risen.  When he glanced up again he
-saw that his visitor was as moved as himself.
-
-"Thank you," Archer said simply.
-
-"There's nothing to thank me for, Monsieur: it is I,
-rather--"  M. Riviere broke off, as if speech for him
-too were difficult.  "I should like, though," he continued
-in a firmer voice, "to add one thing.  You asked me
-if I was in Count Olenski's employ.  I am at this moment:
-I returned to him, a few months ago, for reasons
-of private necessity such as may happen to any one
-who has persons, ill and older persons, dependent on
-him.  But from the moment that I have taken the step of
-coming here to say these things to you I consider myself
-discharged, and I shall tell him so on my return,
-and give him the reasons.  That's all, Monsieur."
-
-M. Riviere bowed and drew back a step.
-
-"Thank you," Archer said again, as their hands met.
-
-
-
-XXVI.
-
-Every year on the fifteenth of October Fifth Avenue
-opened its shutters, unrolled its carpets and hung
-up its triple layer of window-curtains.
-
-By the first of November this household ritual was
-over, and society had begun to look about and take
-stock of itself.  By the fifteenth the season was in full
-blast, Opera and theatres were putting forth their new
-attractions, dinner-engagements were accumulating, and
-dates for dances being fixed.  And punctually at about
-this time Mrs. Archer always said that New York was
-very much changed.
-
-Observing it from the lofty stand-point of a non-
-participant, she was able, with the help of Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson and Miss Sophy, to trace each new crack in its
-surface, and all the strange weeds pushing up between
-the ordered rows of social vegetables.  It had been one
-of the amusements of Archer's youth to wait for this
-annual pronouncement of his mother's, and to hear her
-enumerate the minute signs of disintegration that his
-careless gaze had overlooked.  For New York, to Mrs.
-Archer's mind, never changed without changing for the
-worse; and in this view Miss Sophy Jackson heartily
-concurred.
-
-Mr. Sillerton Jackson, as became a man of the world,
-suspended his judgment and listened with an amused
-impartiality to the lamentations of the ladies.  But even
-he never denied that New York had changed; and
-Newland Archer, in the winter of the second year of his
-marriage, was himself obliged to admit that if it had
-not actually changed it was certainly changing.
-
-These points had been raised, as usual, at Mrs.
-Archer's Thanksgiving dinner.  At the date when she was
-officially enjoined to give thanks for the blessings of
-the year it was her habit to take a mournful though not
-embittered stock of her world, and wonder what there
-was to be thankful for.  At any rate, not the state of
-society; society, if it could be said to exist, was rather a
-spectacle on which to call down Biblical imprecations--
-and in fact, every one knew what the Reverend Dr.
-Ashmore meant when he chose a text from Jeremiah
-(chap. ii., verse 25) for his Thanksgiving sermon.
-Dr. Ashmore, the new Rector of St. Matthew's, had
-been chosen because he was very "advanced": his
-sermons were considered bold in thought and novel in
-language.  When he fulminated against fashionable society
-he always spoke of its "trend"; and to Mrs. Archer
-it was terrifying and yet fascinating to feel herself part
-of a community that was trending.
-
-"There's no doubt that Dr. Ashmore is right: there IS
-a marked trend," she said, as if it were something
-visible and measurable, like a crack in a house.
-
-"It was odd, though, to preach about it on Thanksgiving,"
-Miss Jackson opined; and her hostess drily
-rejoined:  "Oh, he means us to give thanks for what's
-left."
-
-Archer had been wont to smile at these annual
-vaticinations of his mother's; but this year even he was
-obliged to acknowledge, as he listened to an enumeration
-of the changes, that the "trend" was visible.
-
-"The extravagance in dress--" Miss Jackson began.
-"Sillerton took me to the first night of the Opera, and I
-can only tell you that Jane Merry's dress was the only
-one I recognised from last year; and even that had had
-the front panel changed.  Yet I know she got it out from
-Worth only two years ago, because my seamstress always
-goes in to make over her Paris dresses before she
-wears them."
-
-"Ah, Jane Merry is one of US," said Mrs. Archer
-sighing, as if it were not such an enviable thing to be in
-an age when ladies were beginning to flaunt abroad
-their Paris dresses as soon as they were out of the
-Custom House, instead of letting them mellow under
-lock and key, in the manner of Mrs. Archer's contemporaries.
-
-"Yes; she's one of the few.  In my youth," Miss
-Jackson rejoined, "it was considered vulgar to dress in
-the newest fashions; and Amy Sillerton has always told
-me that in Boston the rule was to put away one's Paris
-dresses for two years.  Old Mrs. Baxter Pennilow, who
-did everything handsomely, used to import twelve a
-year, two velvet, two satin, two silk, and the other six
-of poplin and the finest cashmere.  It was a standing
-order, and as she was ill for two years before she died
-they found forty-eight Worth dresses that had never
-been taken out of tissue paper; and when the girls left
-off their mourning they were able to wear the first lot
-at the Symphony concerts without looking in advance
-of the fashion."
-
-"Ah, well, Boston is more conservative than New
-York; but I always think it's a safe rule for a lady to
-lay aside her French dresses for one season," Mrs.
-Archer conceded.
-
-"It was Beaufort who started the new fashion by
-making his wife clap her new clothes on her back as
-soon as they arrived: I must say at times it takes all
-Regina's distinction not to look like . . . like . . ."  Miss
-Jackson glanced around the table, caught Janey's bulging
-gaze, and took refuge in an unintelligible murmur.
-
-"Like her rivals," said Mr. Sillerton Jackson, with
-the air of producing an epigram.
-
-"Oh,--" the ladies murmured; and Mrs. Archer added,
-partly to distract her daughter's attention from forbidden
-topics:  "Poor Regina!  Her Thanksgiving hasn't
-been a very cheerful one, I'm afraid.  Have you heard
-the rumours about Beaufort's speculations, Sillerton?"
-
-Mr. Jackson nodded carelessly.  Every one had heard
-the rumours in question, and he scorned to confirm a
-tale that was already common property.
-
-A gloomy silence fell upon the party.  No one really
-liked Beaufort, and it was not wholly unpleasant to
-think the worst of his private life; but the idea of his
-having brought financial dishonour on his wife's family
-was too shocking to be enjoyed even by his enemies.
-Archer's New York tolerated hypocrisy in private relations;
-but in business matters it exacted a limpid and
-impeccable honesty.  It was a long time since any well-
-known banker had failed discreditably; but every one
-remembered the social extinction visited on the heads
-of the firm when the last event of the kind had
-happened.  It would be the same with the Beauforts, in spite
-of his power and her popularity; not all the leagued
-strength of the Dallas connection would save poor
-Regina if there were any truth in the reports of her
-husband's unlawful speculations.
-
-The talk took refuge in less ominous topics; but
-everything they touched on seemed to confirm Mrs.
-Archer's sense of an accelerated trend.
-
-"Of course, Newland, I know you let dear May go
-to Mrs. Struthers's Sunday evenings--" she began; and
-May interposed gaily:  "Oh, you know, everybody goes
-to Mrs. Struthers's now; and she was invited to Granny's
-last reception."
-
-It was thus, Archer reflected, that New York
-managed its transitions: conspiring to ignore them till they
-were well over, and then, in all good faith, imagining
-that they had taken place in a preceding age.  There was
-always a traitor in the citadel; and after he (or generally
-she) had surrendered the keys, what was the use of
-pretending that it was impregnable?  Once people had
-tasted of Mrs. Struthers's easy Sunday hospitality they
-were not likely to sit at home remembering that her
-champagne was transmuted Shoe-Polish.
-
-"I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Archer sighed.  "Such
-things have to be, I suppose, as long as AMUSEMENT is
-what people go out for; but I've never quite forgiven
-your cousin Madame Olenska for being the first person
-to countenance Mrs. Struthers."
-
-A sudden blush rose to young Mrs. Archer's face; it
-surprised her husband as much as the other guests
-about the table.  "Oh, ELLEN--" she murmured, much in
-the same accusing and yet deprecating tone in which
-her parents might have said:  "Oh, THE BLENKERS--."
-
-It was the note which the family had taken to sounding
-on the mention of the Countess Olenska's name,
-since she had surprised and inconvenienced them by
-remaining obdurate to her husband's advances; but on
-May's lips it gave food for thought, and Archer looked
-at her with the sense of strangeness that sometimes
-came over him when she was most in the tone of her
-environment.
-
-His mother, with less than her usual sensitiveness to
-atmosphere, still insisted:  "I've always thought that
-people like the Countess Olenska, who have lived in
-aristocratic societies, ought to help us to keep up our
-social distinctions, instead of ignoring them."
-
-May's blush remained permanently vivid: it seemed
-to have a significance beyond that implied by the
-recognition of Madame Olenska's social bad faith.
-
-"I've no doubt we all seem alike to foreigners," said
-Miss Jackson tartly.
-
-"I don't think Ellen cares for society; but nobody
-knows exactly what she does care for," May continued,
-as if she had been groping for something noncommittal.
-
-"Ah, well--" Mrs. Archer sighed again.
-
-Everybody knew that the Countess Olenska was no
-longer in the good graces of her family.  Even her
-devoted champion, old Mrs. Manson Mingott, had been
-unable to defend her refusal to return to her husband.
-The Mingotts had not proclaimed their disapproval
-aloud: their sense of solidarity was too strong.  They
-had simply, as Mrs. Welland said, "let poor Ellen find
-her own level"--and that, mortifyingly and
-incomprehensibly, was in the dim depths where the Blenkers
-prevailed, and "people who wrote" celebrated their
-untidy rites.  It was incredible, but it was a fact, that
-Ellen, in spite of all her opportunities and her privileges,
-had become simply "Bohemian."  The fact enforced
-the contention that she had made a fatal mistake
-in not returning to Count Olenski.  After all, a young
-woman's place was under her husband's roof, especially
-when she had left it in circumstances that . . .
-well . . . if one had cared to look into them . . .
-
-"Madame Olenska is a great favourite with the
-gentlemen," said Miss Sophy, with her air of wishing to
-put forth something conciliatory when she knew that
-she was planting a dart.
-
-"Ah, that's the danger that a young woman like
-Madame Olenska is always exposed to," Mrs. Archer
-mournfully agreed; and the ladies, on this conclusion,
-gathered up their trains to seek the carcel globes of the
-drawing-room, while Archer and Mr. Sillerton Jackson
-withdrew to the Gothic library.
-
-Once established before the grate, and consoling
-himself for the inadequacy of the dinner by the perfection
-of his cigar, Mr. Jackson became portentous and
-communicable.
-
-"If the Beaufort smash comes," he announced, "there
-are going to be disclosures."
-
-Archer raised his head quickly: he could never hear
-the name without the sharp vision of Beaufort's heavy
-figure, opulently furred and shod, advancing through
-the snow at Skuytercliff.
-
-"There's bound to be," Mr. Jackson continued, "the
-nastiest kind of a cleaning up.  He hasn't spent all his
-money on Regina."
-
-"Oh, well--that's discounted, isn't it?  My belief is
-he'll pull out yet," said the young man, wanting to
-change the subject.
-
-"Perhaps--perhaps.  I know he was to see some of
-the influential people today.  Of course," Mr. Jackson
-reluctantly conceded, "it's to be hoped they can tide
-him over--this time anyhow.  I shouldn't like to think
-of poor Regina's spending the rest of her life in some
-shabby foreign watering-place for bankrupts."
-
-Archer said nothing.  It seemed to him so natural--
-however tragic--that money ill-gotten should be cruelly
-expiated, that his mind, hardly lingering over Mrs.
-Beaufort's doom, wandered back to closer questions.
-What was the meaning of May's blush when the Countess
-Olenska had been mentioned?
-
-Four months had passed since the midsummer day
-that he and Madame Olenska had spent together; and
-since then he had not seen her.  He knew that she had
-returned to Washington, to the little house which she
-and Medora Manson had taken there: he had written
-to her once--a few words, asking when they were to
-meet again--and she had even more briefly replied:
-"Not yet."
-
-Since then there had been no farther communication
-between them, and he had built up within himself a
-kind of sanctuary in which she throned among his
-secret thoughts and longings.  Little by little it became
-the scene of his real life, of his only rational activities;
-thither he brought the books he read, the ideas and
-feelings which nourished him, his judgments and his
-visions.  Outside it, in the scene of his actual life, he
-moved with a growing sense of unreality and insufficiency,
-blundering against familiar prejudices and traditional
-points of view as an absent-minded man goes
-on bumping into the furniture of his own room.
-Absent--that was what he was: so absent from everything
-most densely real and near to those about him
-that it sometimes startled him to find they still
-imagined he was there.
-
-He became aware that Mr. Jackson was clearing his
-throat preparatory to farther revelations.
-
-"I don't know, of course, how far your wife's family
-are aware of what people say about--well, about Madame
-Olenska's refusal to accept her husband's latest
-offer."
-
-Archer was silent, and Mr. Jackson obliquely continued:
-"It's a pity--it's certainly a pity--that she refused
-it."
-
-"A pity?  In God's name, why?"
-
-Mr. Jackson looked down his leg to the unwrinkled
-sock that joined it to a glossy pump.
-
-"Well--to put it on the lowest ground--what's she
-going to live on now?"
-
-"Now--?"
-
-"If Beaufort--"
-
-Archer sprang up, his fist banging down on the black
-walnut-edge of the writing-table.  The wells of the brass
-double-inkstand danced in their sockets.
-
-"What the devil do you mean, sir?"
-
-Mr. Jackson, shifting himself slightly in his chair,
-turned a tranquil gaze on the young man's burning
-face.
-
-"Well--I have it on pretty good authority--in fact,
-on old Catherine's herself--that the family reduced
-Countess Olenska's allowance considerably when she
-definitely refused to go back to her husband; and as, by
-this refusal, she also forfeits the money settled on her
-when she married--which Olenski was ready to make
-over to her if she returned--why, what the devil do YOU
-mean, my dear boy, by asking me what I mean?" Mr.
-Jackson good-humouredly retorted.
-
-Archer moved toward the mantelpiece and bent over
-to knock his ashes into the grate.
-
-"I don't know anything of Madame Olenska's private
-affairs; but I don't need to, to be certain that what
-you insinuate--"
-
-"Oh, I don't: it's Lefferts, for one," Mr. Jackson
-interposed.
-
-"Lefferts--who made love to her and got snubbed
-for it!" Archer broke out contemptuously.
-
-"Ah--DID he?" snapped the other, as if this were
-exactly the fact he had been laying a trap for.  He still
-sat sideways from the fire, so that his hard old gaze
-held Archer's face as if in a spring of steel.
-
-"Well, well: it's a pity she didn't go back before
-Beaufort's cropper," he repeated.  "If she goes NOW, and
-if he fails, it will only confirm the general impression:
-which isn't by any means peculiar to Lefferts, by the
-way."
-
-"Oh, she won't go back now: less than ever!"  Archer
-had no sooner said it than he had once more the feeling
-that it was exactly what Mr. Jackson had been waiting
-for.
-
-The old gentleman considered him attentively.  "That's
-your opinion, eh?  Well, no doubt you know.  But everybody
-will tell you that the few pennies Medora Manson
-has left are all in Beaufort's hands; and how the
-two women are to keep their heads above water unless
-he does, I can't imagine.  Of course, Madame Olenska
-may still soften old Catherine, who's been the most
-inexorably opposed to her staying; and old Catherine
-could make her any allowance she chooses.  But we all
-know that she hates parting with good money; and the
-rest of the family have no particular interest in keeping
-Madame Olenska here."
-
-Archer was burning with unavailing wrath: he was
-exactly in the state when a man is sure to do something
-stupid, knowing all the while that he is doing it.
-
-He saw that Mr. Jackson had been instantly struck
-by the fact that Madame Olenska's differences with her
-grandmother and her other relations were not known
-to him, and that the old gentleman had drawn his own
-conclusions as to the reasons for Archer's exclusion
-from the family councils.  This fact warned Archer to
-go warily; but the insinuations about Beaufort made
-him reckless.  He was mindful, however, if not of his
-own danger, at least of the fact that Mr. Jackson was
-under his mother's roof, and consequently his guest.
-Old New York scrupulously observed the etiquette of
-hospitality, and no discussion with a guest was ever
-allowed to degenerate into a disagreement.
-
-"Shall we go up and join my mother?" he suggested
-curtly, as Mr. Jackson's last cone of ashes dropped into
-the brass ashtray at his elbow.
-
-On the drive homeward May remained oddly silent;
-through the darkness, he still felt her enveloped in her
-menacing blush.  What its menace meant he could not
-guess: but he was sufficiently warned by the fact that
-Madame Olenska's name had evoked it.
-
-They went upstairs, and he turned into the library.
-She usually followed him; but he heard her passing
-down the passage to her bedroom.
-
-"May!" he called out impatiently; and she came
-back, with a slight glance of surprise at his tone.
-
-"This lamp is smoking again; I should think the
-servants might see that it's kept properly trimmed," he
-grumbled nervously.
-
-"I'm so sorry: it shan't happen again," she answered,
-in the firm bright tone she had learned from her mother;
-and it exasperated Archer to feel that she was already
-beginning to humour him like a younger Mr. Welland.
-She bent over to lower the wick, and as the light struck
-up on her white shoulders and the clear curves of her
-face he thought:  "How young she is!  For what endless
-years this life will have to go on!"
-
-He felt, with a kind of horror, his own strong youth
-and the bounding blood in his veins.  "Look here," he
-said suddenly, "I may have to go to Washington for a
-few days--soon; next week perhaps."
-
-Her hand remained on the key of the lamp as she
-turned to him slowly.  The heat from its flame had
-brought back a glow to her face, but it paled as she
-looked up.
-
-"On business?" she asked, in a tone which implied
-that there could be no other conceivable reason, and
-that she had put the question automatically, as if merely
-to finish his own sentence.
-
-"On business, naturally.  There's a patent case coming
-up before the Supreme Court--"  He gave the name
-of the inventor, and went on furnishing details with all
-Lawrence Lefferts's practised glibness, while she listened
-attentively, saying at intervals:  "Yes, I see."
-
-"The change will do you good," she said simply,
-when he had finished; "and you must be sure to go and
-see Ellen," she added, looking him straight in the eyes
-with her cloudless smile, and speaking in the tone she
-might have employed in urging him not to neglect some
-irksome family duty.
-
-It was the only word that passed between them on
-the subject; but in the code in which they had both
-been trained it meant:  "Of course you understand that
-I know all that people have been saying about Ellen,
-and heartily sympathise with my family in their effort
-to get her to return to her husband.  I also know that,
-for some reason you have not chosen to tell me, you
-have advised her against this course, which all the older
-men of the family, as well as our grandmother, agree in
-approving; and that it is owing to your encouragement
-that Ellen defies us all, and exposes herself to the kind
-of criticism of which Mr. Sillerton Jackson probably
-gave you, this evening, the hint that has made you so
-irritable. . . .  Hints have indeed not been wanting; but
-since you appear unwilling to take them from others, I
-offer you this one myself, in the only form in which
-well-bred people of our kind can communicate
-unpleasant things to each other: by letting you understand
-that I know you mean to see Ellen when you are in
-Washington, and are perhaps going there expressly for
-that purpose; and that, since you are sure to see her, I
-wish you to do so with my full and explicit approval--
-and to take the opportunity of letting her know what
-the course of conduct you have encouraged her in is
-likely to lead to."
-
-Her hand was still on the key of the lamp when the
-last word of this mute message reached him.  She turned
-the wick down, lifted off the globe, and breathed on
-the sulky flame.
-
-"They smell less if one blows them out," she explained,
-with her bright housekeeping air.  On the threshold
-she turned and paused for his kiss.
-
-
-
-XXVII.
-
-Wall Street, the next day, had more reassuring
-reports of Beaufort's situation.  They were not
-definite, but they were hopeful.  It was generally understood
-that he could call on powerful influences in case
-of emergency, and that he had done so with success;
-and that evening, when Mrs. Beaufort appeared at the
-Opera wearing her old smile and a new emerald necklace,
-society drew a breath of relief.
-
-New York was inexorable in its condemnation of
-business irregularities.  So far there had been no exception
-to its tacit rule that those who broke the law of
-probity must pay; and every one was aware that even
-Beaufort and Beaufort's wife would be offered up
-unflinchingly to this principle.  But to be obliged to offer
-them up would be not only painful but inconvenient.
-The disappearance of the Beauforts would leave a
-considerable void in their compact little circle; and those
-who were too ignorant or too careless to shudder at the
-moral catastrophe bewailed in advance the loss of the
-best ball-room in New York.
-
-Archer had definitely made up his mind to go to
-Washington.  He was waiting only for the opening of
-the law-suit of which he had spoken to May, so that its
-date might coincide with that of his visit; but on the
-following Tuesday he learned from Mr. Letterblair that
-the case might be postponed for several weeks.  Nevertheless,
-he went home that afternoon determined in any
-event to leave the next evening.  The chances were that
-May, who knew nothing of his professional life, and
-had never shown any interest in it, would not learn of
-the postponement, should it take place, nor remember
-the names of the litigants if they were mentioned before
-her; and at any rate he could no longer put off seeing
-Madame Olenska.  There were too many things that he
-must say to her.
-
-On the Wednesday morning, when he reached his
-office, Mr. Letterblair met him with a troubled face.
-Beaufort, after all, had not managed to "tide over";
-but by setting afloat the rumour that he had done so he
-had reassured his depositors, and heavy payments had
-poured into the bank till the previous evening, when
-disturbing reports again began to predominate.  In
-consequence, a run on the bank had begun, and its doors
-were likely to close before the day was over.  The ugliest
-things were being said of Beaufort's dastardly
-manoeuvre, and his failure promised to be one of the
-most discreditable in the history of Wall Street.
-
-The extent of the calamity left Mr. Letterblair white
-and incapacitated.  "I've seen bad things in my time;
-but nothing as bad as this.  Everybody we know will be
-hit, one way or another.  And what will be done about
-Mrs. Beaufort?  What CAN be done about her?  I pity
-Mrs. Manson Mingott as much as anybody: coming at
-her age, there's no knowing what effect this affair may
-have on her.  She always believed in Beaufort--she made
-a friend of him!  And there's the whole Dallas connection:
-poor Mrs. Beaufort is related to every one of you.
-Her only chance would be to leave her husband--yet
-how can any one tell her so?  Her duty is at his side;
-and luckily she seems always to have been blind to his
-private weaknesses."
-
-There was a knock, and Mr. Letterblair turned his
-head sharply.  "What is it?  I can't be disturbed."
-
-A clerk brought in a letter for Archer and withdrew.
-Recognising his wife's hand, the young man opened
-the envelope and read:  "Won't you please come up
-town as early as you can?  Granny had a slight stroke
-last night.  In some mysterious way she found out before
-any one else this awful news about the bank.
-Uncle Lovell is away shooting, and the idea of the
-disgrace has made poor Papa so nervous that he has a
-temperature and can't leave his room.  Mamma needs
-you dreadfully, and I do hope you can get away at once
-and go straight to Granny's."
-
-Archer handed the note to his senior partner, and a
-few minutes later was crawling northward in a crowded
-horse-car, which he exchanged at Fourteenth Street for
-one of the high staggering omnibuses of the Fifth Avenue
-line.  It was after twelve o'clock when this laborious
-vehicle dropped him at old Catherine's.  The
-sitting-room window on the ground floor, where she
-usually throned, was tenanted by the inadequate figure
-of her daughter, Mrs. Welland, who signed a haggard
-welcome as she caught sight of Archer; and at the door
-he was met by May.  The hall wore the unnatural
-appearance peculiar to well-kept houses suddenly
-invaded by illness: wraps and furs lay in heaps on the
-chairs, a doctor's bag and overcoat were on the table,
-and beside them letters and cards had already piled up
-unheeded.
-
-May looked pale but smiling: Dr. Bencomb, who
-had just come for the second time, took a more hopeful
-view, and Mrs. Mingott's dauntless determination to
-live and get well was already having an effect on her
-family.  May led Archer into the old lady's sitting-room,
-where the sliding doors opening into the bedroom had
-been drawn shut, and the heavy yellow damask portieres
-dropped over them; and here Mrs. Welland communicated
-to him in horrified undertones the details of
-the catastrophe.  It appeared that the evening before
-something dreadful and mysterious had happened.  At
-about eight o'clock, just after Mrs. Mingott had finished
-the game of solitaire that she always played after
-dinner, the door-bell had rung, and a lady so thickly
-veiled that the servants did not immediately recognise
-her had asked to be received.
-
-The butler, hearing a familiar voice, had thrown
-open the sitting-room door, announcing:  "Mrs. Julius
-Beaufort"--and had then closed it again on the two
-ladies.  They must have been together, he thought, about
-an hour.  When Mrs. Mingott's bell rang Mrs. Beaufort
-had already slipped away unseen, and the old lady,
-white and vast and terrible, sat alone in her great chair,
-and signed to the butler to help her into her room.  She
-seemed, at that time, though obviously distressed, in
-complete control of her body and brain.  The mulatto
-maid put her to bed, brought her a cup of tea as usual,
-laid everything straight in the room, and went away;
-but at three in the morning the bell rang again, and the
-two servants, hastening in at this unwonted summons
-(for old Catherine usually slept like a baby), had found
-their mistress sitting up against her pillows with a
-crooked smile on her face and one little hand hanging
-limp from its huge arm.
-
-The stroke had clearly been a slight one, for she was
-able to articulate and to make her wishes known; and
-soon after the doctor's first visit she had begun to
-regain control of her facial muscles.  But the alarm had
-been great; and proportionately great was the indignation
-when it was gathered from Mrs. Mingott's fragmentary
-phrases that Regina Beaufort had come to ask
-her--incredible effrontery!--to back up her husband,
-see them through--not to "desert" them, as she called
-it--in fact to induce the whole family to cover and
-condone their monstrous dishonour.
-
-"I said to her:  `Honour's always been honour, and
-honesty honesty, in Manson Mingott's house, and will
-be till I'm carried out of it feet first,'" the old woman
-had stammered into her daughter's ear, in the thick
-voice of the partly paralysed.  "And when she said:  `But
-my name, Auntie--my name's Regina Dallas,' I said:  `It
-was Beaufort when he covered you with jewels, and it's
-got to stay Beaufort now that he's covered you with
-shame.'"
-
-So much, with tears and gasps of horror, Mrs. Welland
-imparted, blanched and demolished by the unwonted
-obligation of having at last to fix her eyes on
-the unpleasant and the discreditable.  "If only I could
-keep it from your father-in-law: he always says:
-`Augusta, for pity's sake, don't destroy my last illusions'
---and how am I to prevent his knowing these horrors?"
-the poor lady wailed.
-
-"After all, Mamma, he won't have SEEN them," her
-daughter suggested; and Mrs. Welland sighed:  "Ah,
-no; thank heaven he's safe in bed.  And Dr. Bencomb
-has promised to keep him there till poor Mamma is
-better, and Regina has been got away somewhere."
-
-Archer had seated himself near the window and was
-gazing out blankly at the deserted thoroughfare.  It was
-evident that he had been summoned rather for the
-moral support of the stricken ladies than because of
-any specific aid that he could render.  Mr. Lovell Mingott
-had been telegraphed for, and messages were being
-despatched by hand to the members of the family living
-in New York; and meanwhile there was nothing to do
-but to discuss in hushed tones the consequences of
-Beaufort's dishonour and of his wife's unjustifiable
-action.
-
-Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who had been in another room
-writing notes, presently reappeared, and added her voice
-to the discussion.  In THEIR day, the elder ladies agreed,
-the wife of a man who had done anything disgraceful
-in business had only one idea: to efface herself, to
-disappear with him.  "There was the case of poor Grandmamma
-Spicer; your great-grandmother, May.  Of
-course," Mrs. Welland hastened to add, "your great-
-grandfather's money difficulties were private--losses
-at cards, or signing a note for somebody--I never quite
-knew, because Mamma would never speak of it.  But
-she was brought up in the country because her mother
-had to leave New York after the disgrace, whatever it
-was: they lived up the Hudson alone, winter and summer,
-till Mamma was sixteen.  It would never have
-occurred to Grandmamma Spicer to ask the family to
-`countenance' her, as I understand Regina calls it; though
-a private disgrace is nothing compared to the scandal
-of ruining hundreds of innocent people."
-
-"Yes, it would be more becoming in Regina to hide
-her own countenance than to talk about other people's,"
-Mrs. Lovell Mingott agreed.  "I understand that
-the emerald necklace she wore at the Opera last Friday
-had been sent on approval from Ball and Black's in the
-afternoon.  I wonder if they'll ever get it back?"
-
-Archer listened unmoved to the relentless chorus.
-The idea of absolute financial probity as the first law of
-a gentleman's code was too deeply ingrained in him for
-sentimental considerations to weaken it.  An adventurer
-like Lemuel Struthers might build up the millions of his
-Shoe Polish on any number of shady dealings; but
-unblemished honesty was the noblesse oblige of old
-financial New York.  Nor did Mrs. Beaufort's fate greatly
-move Archer.  He felt, no doubt, more sorry for her
-than her indignant relatives; but it seemed to him that
-the tie between husband and wife, even if breakable in
-prosperity, should be indissoluble in misfortune.  As
-Mr. Letterblair had said, a wife's place was at her
-husband's side when he was in trouble; but society's
-place was not at his side, and Mrs. Beaufort's cool
-assumption that it was seemed almost to make her his
-accomplice.  The mere idea of a woman's appealing to
-her family to screen her husband's business dishonour
-was inadmissible, since it was the one thing that the
-Family, as an institution, could not do.
-
-The mulatto maid called Mrs. Lovell Mingott into
-the hall, and the latter came back in a moment with a
-frowning brow.
-
-"She wants me to telegraph for Ellen Olenska.  I had
-written to Ellen, of course, and to Medora; but now it
-seems that's not enough.  I'm to telegraph to her
-immediately, and to tell her that she's to come alone."
-
-The announcement was received in silence.  Mrs.
-Welland sighed resignedly, and May rose from her seat and
-went to gather up some newspapers that had been
-scattered on the floor.
-
-"I suppose it must be done," Mrs. Lovell Mingott
-continued, as if hoping to be contradicted; and May
-turned back toward the middle of the room.
-
-"Of course it must be done," she said.  "Granny
-knows what she wants, and we must carry out all her
-wishes.  Shall I write the telegram for you, Auntie?  If it
-goes at once Ellen can probably catch tomorrow morning's
-train."  She pronounced the syllables of the name
-with a peculiar clearness, as if she had tapped on two
-silver bells.
-
-"Well, it can't go at once.  Jasper and the pantry-boy
-are both out with notes and telegrams."
-
-May turned to her husband with a smile.  "But here's
-Newland, ready to do anything.  Will you take the
-telegram, Newland?  There'll be just time before luncheon."
-
-Archer rose with a murmur of readiness, and she
-seated herself at old Catherine's rosewood "Bonheur
-du Jour," and wrote out the message in her large
-immature hand.  When it was written she blotted it
-neatly and handed it to Archer.
-
-"What a pity," she said, "that you and Ellen will
-cross each other on the way!--Newland," she added,
-turning to her mother and aunt, "is obliged to go to
-Washington about a patent law-suit that is coming up
-before the Supreme Court.  I suppose Uncle Lovell will
-be back by tomorrow night, and with Granny improving
-so much it doesn't seem right to ask Newland to
-give up an important engagement for the firm--does
-it?"
-
-She paused, as if for an answer, and Mrs. Welland
-hastily declared:  "Oh, of course not, darling.  Your
-Granny would be the last person to wish it."  As Archer
-left the room with the telegram, he heard his mother-in-
-law add, presumably to Mrs. Lovell Mingott:  "But
-why on earth she should make you telegraph for Ellen
-Olenska--" and May's clear voice rejoin:  "Perhaps it's
-to urge on her again that after all her duty is with her
-husband."
-
-The outer door closed on Archer and he walked
-hastily away toward the telegraph office.
-
-
-
-XXVIII.
-
-"Ol-ol--howjer spell it, anyhow?" asked the tart
-young lady to whom Archer had pushed his wife's
-telegram across the brass ledge of the Western Union
-office.
-
-"Olenska--O-len-ska," he repeated, drawing back
-the message in order to print out the foreign syllables
-above May's rambling script.
-
-"It's an unlikely name for a New York telegraph
-office; at least in this quarter," an unexpected voice
-observed; and turning around Archer saw Lawrence
-Lefferts at his elbow, pulling an imperturbable moustache
-and affecting not to glance at the message.
-
-"Hallo, Newland: thought I'd catch you here.  I've
-just heard of old Mrs. Mingott's stroke; and as I was
-on my way to the house I saw you turning down this
-street and nipped after you.  I suppose you've come
-from there?"
-
-Archer nodded, and pushed his telegram under the
-lattice.
-
-"Very bad, eh?" Lefferts continued.  "Wiring to the
-family, I suppose.  I gather it IS bad, if you're including
-Countess Olenska."
-
-Archer's lips stiffened; he felt a savage impulse to
-dash his fist into the long vain handsome face at his side.
-
-"Why?" he questioned.
-
-Lefferts, who was known to shrink from discussion,
-raised his eye-brows with an ironic grimace that warned
-the other of the watching damsel behind the lattice.
-Nothing could be worse "form" the look reminded
-Archer, than any display of temper in a public place.
-
-Archer had never been more indifferent to the
-requirements of form; but his impulse to do Lawrence
-Lefferts a physical injury was only momentary.  The
-idea of bandying Ellen Olenska's name with him at
-such a time, and on whatsoever provocation, was
-unthinkable.  He paid for his telegram, and the two young
-men went out together into the street.  There Archer,
-having regained his self-control, went on:  "Mrs. Mingott
-is much better: the doctor feels no anxiety whatever";
-and Lefferts, with profuse expressions of relief,
-asked him if he had heard that there were beastly bad
-rumours again about Beaufort. . . .
-
-That afternoon the announcement of the Beaufort failure
-was in all the papers.  It overshadowed the report of
-Mrs. Manson Mingott's stroke, and only the few who
-had heard of the mysterious connection between the
-two events thought of ascribing old Catherine's illness
-to anything but the accumulation of flesh and years.
-
-The whole of New York was darkened by the tale of
-Beaufort's dishonour.  There had never, as Mr. Letterblair
-said, been a worse case in his memory, nor, for that
-matter, in the memory of the far-off Letterblair who
-had given his name to the firm.  The bank had continued
-to take in money for a whole day after its failure
-was inevitable; and as many of its clients belonged to
-one or another of the ruling clans, Beaufort's duplicity
-seemed doubly cynical.  If Mrs. Beaufort had not taken
-the tone that such misfortunes (the word was her own)
-were "the test of friendship," compassion for her might
-have tempered the general indignation against her husband.
-As it was--and especially after the object of her
-nocturnal visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott had become
-known--her cynicism was held to exceed his; and she
-had not the excuse--nor her detractors the satisfaction--
-of pleading that she was "a foreigner."  It was some
-comfort (to those whose securities were not in jeopardy)
-to be able to remind themselves that Beaufort
-WAS; but, after all, if a Dallas of South Carolina took
-his view of the case, and glibly talked of his soon being
-"on his feet again," the argument lost its edge, and
-there was nothing to do but to accept this awful evidence
-of the indissolubility of marriage.  Society must
-manage to get on without the Beauforts, and there was
-an end of it--except indeed for such hapless victims of
-the disaster as Medora Manson, the poor old Miss
-Lannings, and certain other misguided ladies of good
-family who, if only they had listened to Mr. Henry van
-der Luyden . . .
-
-"The best thing the Beauforts can do," said Mrs.
-Archer, summing it up as if she were pronouncing a
-diagnosis and prescribing a course of treatment, "is to
-go and live at Regina's little place in North Carolina.
-Beaufort has always kept a racing stable, and he had
-better breed trotting horses.  I should say he had all the
-qualities of a successful horsedealer."  Every one agreed
-with her, but no one condescended to enquire what the
-Beauforts really meant to do.
-
-The next day Mrs. Manson Mingott was much better:
-she recovered her voice sufficiently to give orders
-that no one should mention the Beauforts to her again,
-and asked--when Dr. Bencomb appeared--what in the
-world her family meant by making such a fuss about
-her health.
-
-"If people of my age WILL eat chicken-salad in the
-evening what are they to expect?" she enquired; and,
-the doctor having opportunely modified her dietary,
-the stroke was transformed into an attack of indigestion.
-But in spite of her firm tone old Catherine did not
-wholly recover her former attitude toward life.  The
-growing remoteness of old age, though it had not
-diminished her curiosity about her neighbours, had blunted
-her never very lively compassion for their troubles; and
-she seemed to have no difficulty in putting the Beaufort
-disaster out of her mind.  But for the first time she
-became absorbed in her own symptoms, and began to
-take a sentimental interest in certain members of her
-family to whom she had hitherto been contemptuously
-indifferent.
-
-Mr. Welland, in particular, had the privilege of
-attracting her notice.  Of her sons-in-law he was the one
-she had most consistently ignored; and all his wife's
-efforts to represent him as a man of forceful character
-and marked intellectual ability (if he had only "chosen")
-had been met with a derisive chuckle.  But his
-eminence as a valetudinarian now made him an object
-of engrossing interest, and Mrs. Mingott issued an
-imperial summons to him to come and compare diets
-as soon as his temperature permitted; for old Catherine
-was now the first to recognise that one could not be
-too careful about temperatures.
-
-Twenty-four hours after Madame Olenska's summons
-a telegram announced that she would arrive from Washington
-on the evening of the following day.  At the
-Wellands', where the Newland Archers chanced to be
-lunching, the question as to who should meet her at
-Jersey City was immediately raised; and the material
-difficulties amid which the Welland household struggled
-as if it had been a frontier outpost, lent animation
-to the debate.  It was agreed that Mrs. Welland could
-not possibly go to Jersey City because she was to
-accompany her husband to old Catherine's that afternoon,
-and the brougham could not be spared, since, if
-Mr. Welland were "upset" by seeing his mother-in-law
-for the first time after her attack, he might have to be
-taken home at a moment's notice.  The Welland sons
-would of course be "down town," Mr. Lovell Mingott
-would be just hurrying back from his shooting, and the
-Mingott carriage engaged in meeting him; and one
-could not ask May, at the close of a winter afternoon,
-to go alone across the ferry to Jersey City, even in her
-own carriage.  Nevertheless, it might appear inhospitable
---and contrary to old Catherine's express wishes--if
-Madame Olenska were allowed to arrive without any
-of the family being at the station to receive her.  It was
-just like Ellen, Mrs. Welland's tired voice implied, to
-place the family in such a dilemma.  "It's always one
-thing after another," the poor lady grieved, in one of
-her rare revolts against fate; "the only thing that makes
-me think Mamma must be less well than Dr. Bencomb
-will admit is this morbid desire to have Ellen come at
-once, however inconvenient it is to meet her."
-
-The words had been thoughtless, as the utterances of
-impatience often are; and Mr. Welland was upon them
-with a pounce.
-
-"Augusta," he said, turning pale and laying down his
-fork, "have you any other reason for thinking that
-Bencomb is less to be relied on than he was?  Have you
-noticed that he has been less conscientious than usual
-in following up my case or your mother's?"
-
-It was Mrs. Welland's turn to grow pale as the
-endless consequences of her blunder unrolled themselves
-before her; but she managed to laugh, and take a
-second helping of scalloped oysters, before she said,
-struggling back into her old armour of cheerfulness:
-"My dear, how could you imagine such a thing?  I only
-meant that, after the decided stand Mamma took about
-its being Ellen's duty to go back to her husband, it
-seems strange that she should be seized with this sudden
-whim to see her, when there are half a dozen other
-grandchildren that she might have asked for.  But we
-must never forget that Mamma, in spite of her wonderful
-vitality, is a very old woman."
-
-Mr. Welland's brow remained clouded, and it was
-evident that his perturbed imagination had fastened at
-once on this last remark.  "Yes: your mother's a very
-old woman; and for all we know Bencomb may not be
-as successful with very old people.  As you say, my
-dear, it's always one thing after another; and in
-another ten or fifteen years I suppose I shall have the
-pleasing duty of looking about for a new doctor.  It's
-always better to make such a change before it's absolutely
-necessary."  And having arrived at this Spartan
-decision Mr. Welland firmly took up his fork.
-
-"But all the while," Mrs. Welland began again, as
-she rose from the luncheon-table, and led the way into
-the wilderness of purple satin and malachite known as
-the back drawing-room, "I don't see how Ellen's to be
-got here tomorrow evening; and I do like to have
-things settled for at least twenty-four hours ahead."
-
-Archer turned from the fascinated contemplation of
-a small painting representing two Cardinals carousing,
-in an octagonal ebony frame set with medallions of onyx.
-
-"Shall I fetch her?" he proposed.  "I can easily get
-away from the office in time to meet the brougham at
-the ferry, if May will send it there."  His heart was
-beating excitedly as he spoke.
-
-Mrs. Welland heaved a sigh of gratitude, and May, who
-had moved away to the window, turned to shed on him
-a beam of approval.  "So you see, Mamma, everything
-WILL be settled twenty-four hours in advance," she said,
-stooping over to kiss her mother's troubled forehead.
-
-May's brougham awaited her at the door, and she was
-to drive Archer to Union Square, where he could pick
-up a Broadway car to carry him to the office.  As she
-settled herself in her corner she said:  "I didn't want to
-worry Mamma by raising fresh obstacles; but how can
-you meet Ellen tomorrow, and bring her back to New
-York, when you're going to Washington?"
-
-"Oh, I'm not going," Archer answered.
-
-"Not going?  Why, what's happened?"  Her voice was
-as clear as a bell, and full of wifely solicitude.
-
-"The case is off--postponed."
-
-"Postponed?  How odd!  I saw a note this morning
-from Mr. Letterblair to Mamma saying that he was
-going to Washington tomorrow for the big patent case
-that he was to argue before the Supreme Court.  You
-said it was a patent case, didn't you?"
-
-"Well--that's it: the whole office can't go.  Letterblair
-decided to go this morning."
-
-"Then it's NOT postponed?" she continued, with an
-insistence so unlike her that he felt the blood rising to
-his face, as if he were blushing for her unwonted lapse
-from all the traditional delicacies.
-
-"No: but my going is," he answered, cursing the
-unnecessary explanations that he had given when he
-had announced his intention of going to Washington,
-and wondering where he had read that clever liars give
-details, but that the cleverest do not.  It did not hurt
-him half as much to tell May an untruth as to see her
-trying to pretend that she had not detected him.
-
-"I'm not going till later on: luckily for the
-convenience of your family," he continued, taking base
-refuge in sarcasm.  As he spoke he felt that she was looking
-at him, and he turned his eyes to hers in order not to
-appear to be avoiding them.  Their glances met for a
-second, and perhaps let them into each other's meanings
-more deeply than either cared to go.
-
-"Yes; it IS awfully convenient," May brightly agreed,
-"that you should be able to meet Ellen after all; you
-saw how much Mamma appreciated your offering to
-do it."
-
-"Oh, I'm delighted to do it."  The carriage stopped,
-and as he jumped out she leaned to him and laid her
-hand on his.  "Good-bye, dearest," she said, her eyes so
-blue that he wondered afterward if they had shone on
-him through tears.
-
-He turned away and hurried across Union Square,
-repeating to himself, in a sort of inward chant:  "It's all
-of two hours from Jersey City to old Catherine's.  It's
-all of two hours--and it may be more."
-
-
-
-XXIX.
-
-His wife's dark blue brougham (with the wedding
-varnish still on it) met Archer at the ferry, and
-conveyed him luxuriously to the Pennsylvania terminus
-in Jersey City.
-
-It was a sombre snowy afternoon, and the gas-lamps
-were lit in the big reverberating station.  As he paced
-the platform, waiting for the Washington express, he
-remembered that there were people who thought there
-would one day be a tunnel under the Hudson through
-which the trains of the Pennsylvania railway would run
-straight into New York.  They were of the brotherhood
-of visionaries who likewise predicted the building of
-ships that would cross the Atlantic in five days, the
-invention of a flying machine, lighting by electricity,
-telephonic communication without wires, and other
-Arabian Night marvels.
-
-"I don't care which of their visions comes true,"
-Archer mused, "as long as the tunnel isn't built yet."  In
-his senseless school-boy happiness he pictured Madame
-Olenska's descent from the train, his discovery of her a
-long way off, among the throngs of meaningless faces,
-her clinging to his arm as he guided her to the carriage,
-their slow approach to the wharf among slipping horses,
-laden carts, vociferating teamsters, and then the startling
-quiet of the ferry-boat, where they would sit side
-by side under the snow, in the motionless carriage,
-while the earth seemed to glide away under them,
-rolling to the other side of the sun.  It was incredible,
-the number of things he had to say to her, and in what
-eloquent order they were forming themselves on his
-lips . . .
-
-The clanging and groaning of the train came nearer,
-and it staggered slowly into the station like a prey-
-laden monster into its lair.  Archer pushed forward,
-elbowing through the crowd, and staring blindly into
-window after window of the high-hung carriages.  And
-then, suddenly, he saw Madame Olenska's pale and
-surprised face close at hand, and had again the mortified
-sensation of having forgotten what she looked like.
-
-They reached each other, their hands met, and he
-drew her arm through his.  "This way--I have the
-carriage," he said.
-
-After that it all happened as he had dreamed.  He
-helped her into the brougham with her bags, and had
-afterward the vague recollection of having properly
-reassured her about her grandmother and given her a
-summary of the Beaufort situation (he was struck by
-the softness of her:  "Poor Regina!").  Meanwhile the
-carriage had worked its way out of the coil about the
-station, and they were crawling down the slippery
-incline to the wharf, menaced by swaying coal-carts,
-bewildered horses, dishevelled express-wagons, and an
-empty hearse--ah, that hearse!  She shut her eyes as it
-passed, and clutched at Archer's hand.
-
-"If only it doesn't mean--poor Granny!"
-
-"Oh, no, no--she's much better--she's all right, really.
-There--we've passed it!" he exclaimed, as if that
-made all the difference.  Her hand remained in his, and
-as the carriage lurched across the gang-plank onto the
-ferry he bent over, unbuttoned her tight brown glove,
-and kissed her palm as if he had kissed a relic.  She
-disengaged herself with a faint smile, and he said:
-"You didn't expect me today?"
-
-"Oh, no."
-
-"I meant to go to Washington to see you.  I'd made
-all my arrangements--I very nearly crossed you in the
-train."
-
-"Oh--" she exclaimed, as if terrified by the narrowness
-of their escape.
-
-"Do you know--I hardly remembered you?"
-
-"Hardly remembered me?"
-
-"I mean: how shall I explain?  I--it's always so.  EACH
-TIME YOU HAPPEN TO ME ALL OVER AGAIN."
-
-"Oh, yes: I know!  I know!"
-
-"Does it--do I too: to you?" he insisted.
-
-She nodded, looking out of the window.
-
-"Ellen--Ellen--Ellen!"
-
-She made no answer, and he sat in silence, watching
-her profile grow indistinct against the snow-streaked
-dusk beyond the window.  What had she been doing in
-all those four long months, he wondered?  How little
-they knew of each other, after all!  The precious moments
-were slipping away, but he had forgotten everything
-that he had meant to say to her and could only
-helplessly brood on the mystery of their remoteness
-and their proximity, which seemed to be symbolised by
-the fact of their sitting so close to each other, and yet
-being unable to see each other's faces.
-
-"What a pretty carriage!  Is it May's?" she asked,
-suddenly turning her face from the window.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"It was May who sent you to fetch me, then?  How
-kind of her!"
-
-He made no answer for a moment; then he said
-explosively:  "Your husband's secretary came to see me
-the day after we met in Boston."
-
-In his brief letter to her he had made no allusion to
-M. Riviere's visit, and his intention had been to bury
-the incident in his bosom.  But her reminder that they
-were in his wife's carriage provoked him to an impulse
-of retaliation.  He would see if she liked his reference to
-Riviere any better than he liked hers to May!  As on
-certain other occasions when he had expected to shake
-her out of her usual composure, she betrayed no sign of
-surprise: and at once he concluded:  "He writes to her,
-then."
-
-"M. Riviere went to see you?"
-
-"Yes: didn't you know?"
-
-"No," she answered simply.
-
-"And you're not surprised?"
-
-She hesitated.  "Why should I be?  He told me in
-Boston that he knew you; that he'd met you in England
-I think."
-
-"Ellen--I must ask you one thing."
-
-"Yes."
-
-"I wanted to ask it after I saw him, but I couldn't
-put it in a letter.  It was Riviere who helped you to
-get away--when you left your husband?"
-
-His heart was beating suffocatingly.  Would she meet
-this question with the same composure?
-
-"Yes: I owe him a great debt," she answered, without
-the least tremor in her quiet voice.
-
-Her tone was so natural, so almost indifferent, that
-Archer's turmoil subsided.  Once more she had managed,
-by her sheer simplicity, to make him feel stupidly
-conventional just when he thought he was flinging
-convention to the winds.
-
-"I think you're the most honest woman I ever met!"
-he exclaimed.
-
-"Oh, no--but probably one of the least fussy," she
-answered, a smile in her voice.
-
-"Call it what you like: you look at things as they
-are."
-
-"Ah--I've had to.  I've had to look at the Gorgon."
-
-"Well--it hasn't blinded you!  You've seen that she's
-just an old bogey like all the others."
-
-"She doesn't blind one; but she dries up one's tears."
-
-The answer checked the pleading on Archer's lips: it
-seemed to come from depths of experience beyond his
-reach.  The slow advance of the ferry-boat had ceased,
-and her bows bumped against the piles of the slip with
-a violence that made the brougham stagger, and flung
-Archer and Madame Olenska against each other.  The
-young man, trembling, felt the pressure of her shoulder,
-and passed his arm about her.
-
-"If you're not blind, then, you must see that this
-can't last."
-
-"What can't?"
-
-"Our being together--and not together."
-
-"No.  You ought not to have come today," she said
-in an altered voice; and suddenly she turned, flung her
-arms about him and pressed her lips to his.  At the same
-moment the carriage began to move, and a gas-lamp at
-the head of the slip flashed its light into the window.
-She drew away, and they sat silent and motionless
-while the brougham struggled through the congestion
-of carriages about the ferry-landing.  As they gained the
-street Archer began to speak hurriedly.
-
-"Don't be afraid of me: you needn't squeeze yourself
-back into your corner like that.  A stolen kiss isn't what
-I want.  Look: I'm not even trying to touch the sleeve of
-your jacket.  Don't suppose that I don't understand
-your reasons for not wanting to let this feeling between
-us dwindle into an ordinary hole-and-corner love-affair.
-I couldn't have spoken like this yesterday, because when
-we've been apart, and I'm looking forward to seeing
-you, every thought is burnt up in a great flame.  But
-then you come; and you're so much more than I
-remembered, and what I want of you is so much more
-than an hour or two every now and then, with wastes
-of thirsty waiting between, that I can sit perfectly still
-beside you, like this, with that other vision in my mind,
-just quietly trusting to it to come true."
-
-For a moment she made no reply; then she asked,
-hardly above a whisper:  "What do you mean by trusting
-to it to come true?"
-
-"Why--you know it will, don't you?"
-
-"Your vision of you and me together?"  She burst
-into a sudden hard laugh.  "You choose your place well
-to put it to me!"
-
-"Do you mean because we're in my wife's brougham?
-Shall we get out and walk, then?  I don't suppose you
-mind a little snow?"
-
-She laughed again, more gently.  "No; I shan't get
-out and walk, because my business is to get to Granny's
-as quickly as I can.  And you'll sit beside me, and
-we'll look, not at visions, but at realities."
-
-"I don't know what you mean by realities.  The only
-reality to me is this."
-
-She met the words with a long silence, during which
-the carriage rolled down an obscure side-street and
-then turned into the searching illumination of Fifth
-Avenue.
-
-"Is it your idea, then, that I should live with you as
-your mistress--since I can't be your wife?" she asked.
-
-The crudeness of the question startled him: the word
-was one that women of his class fought shy of, even
-when their talk flitted closest about the topic.  He
-noticed that Madame Olenska pronounced it as if it had a
-recognised place in her vocabulary, and he wondered if
-it had been used familiarly in her presence in the horrible
-life she had fled from.  Her question pulled him up
-with a jerk, and he floundered.
-
-"I want--I want somehow to get away with you into
-a world where words like that--categories like that--
-won't exist.  Where we shall be simply two human
-beings who love each other, who are the whole of life
-to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter."
-
-She drew a deep sigh that ended in another laugh.
-"Oh, my dear--where is that country?  Have you ever
-been there?" she asked; and as he remained sullenly
-dumb she went on:  "I know so many who've tried to
-find it; and, believe me, they all got out by mistake at
-wayside stations: at places like Boulogne, or Pisa, or
-Monte Carlo--and it wasn't at all different from the
-old world they'd left, but only rather smaller and dingier
-and more promiscuous."
-
-He had never heard her speak in such a tone, and he
-remembered the phrase she had used a little while
-before.
-
-"Yes, the Gorgon HAS dried your tears," he said.
-
-"Well, she opened my eyes too; it's a delusion to say
-that she blinds people.  What she does is just the
-contrary--she fastens their eyelids open, so that they're
-never again in the blessed darkness.  Isn't there a Chinese
-torture like that?  There ought to be.  Ah, believe
-me, it's a miserable little country!"
-
-The carriage had crossed Forty-second Street: May's
-sturdy brougham-horse was carrying them northward
-as if he had been a Kentucky trotter.  Archer choked
-with the sense of wasted minutes and vain words.
-
-"Then what, exactly, is your plan for us?" he asked.
-
-"For US?  But there's no US in that sense!  We're near
-each other only if we stay far from each other.  Then we
-can be ourselves.  Otherwise we're only Newland Archer,
-the husband of Ellen Olenska's cousin, and Ellen
-Olenska, the cousin of Newland Archer's wife, trying
-to be happy behind the backs of the people who trust
-them."
-
-"Ah, I'm beyond that," he groaned.
-
-"No, you're not!  You've never been beyond.  And I
-have," she said, in a strange voice, "and I know what it
-looks like there."
-
-He sat silent, dazed with inarticulate pain.  Then he
-groped in the darkness of the carriage for the little bell
-that signalled orders to the coachman.  He remembered
-that May rang twice when she wished to stop.  He
-pressed the bell, and the carriage drew up beside the
-curbstone.
-
-"Why are we stopping?  This is not Granny's," Madame
-Olenska exclaimed.
-
-"No: I shall get out here," he stammered, opening
-the door and jumping to the pavement.  By the light of
-a street-lamp he saw her startled face, and the instinctive
-motion she made to detain him.  He closed the
-door, and leaned for a moment in the window.
-
-"You're right: I ought not to have come today," he
-said, lowering his voice so that the coachman should
-not hear.  She bent forward, and seemed about to speak;
-but he had already called out the order to drive on, and
-the carriage rolled away while he stood on the corner.
-The snow was over, and a tingling wind had sprung
-up, that lashed his face as he stood gazing.  Suddenly he
-felt something stiff and cold on his lashes, and perceived
-that he had been crying, and that the wind had
-frozen his tears.
-
-He thrust his hands in his pockets, and walked at a
-sharp pace down Fifth Avenue to his own house.
-
-
-
-XXX.
-
-That evening when Archer came down before dinner
-he found the drawing-room empty.
-
-He and May were dining alone, all the family
-engagements having been postponed since Mrs. Manson
-Mingott's illness; and as May was the more punctual
-of the two he was surprised that she had not preceded
-him.  He knew that she was at home, for while he
-dressed he had heard her moving about in her room;
-and he wondered what had delayed her.
-
-He had fallen into the way of dwelling on such
-conjectures as a means of tying his thoughts fast to
-reality.  Sometimes he felt as if he had found the clue to
-his father-in-law's absorption in trifles; perhaps even
-Mr. Welland, long ago, had had escapes and visions,
-and had conjured up all the hosts of domesticity to
-defend himself against them.
-
-When May appeared he thought she looked tired.
-She had put on the low-necked and tightly-laced dinner-
-dress which the Mingott ceremonial exacted on the
-most informal occasions, and had built her fair hair
-into its usual accumulated coils; and her face, in
-contrast, was wan and almost faded.  But she shone on him
-with her usual tenderness, and her eyes had kept the
-blue dazzle of the day before.
-
-"What became of you, dear?" she asked.  "I was
-waiting at Granny's, and Ellen came alone, and said
-she had dropped you on the way because you had to
-rush off on business.  There's nothing wrong?"
-
-"Only some letters I'd forgotten, and wanted to get
-off before dinner."
-
-"Ah--" she said; and a moment afterward:  "I'm
-sorry you didn't come to Granny's--unless the letters
-were urgent."
-
-"They were," he rejoined, surprised at her insistence.
-"Besides, I don't see why I should have gone to your
-grandmother's.  I didn't know you were there."
-
-She turned and moved to the looking-glass above the
-mantel-piece.  As she stood there, lifting her long arm to
-fasten a puff that had slipped from its place in her
-intricate hair, Archer was struck by something languid
-and inelastic in her attitude, and wondered if the deadly
-monotony of their lives had laid its weight on her also.
-Then he remembered that, as he had left the house that
-morning, she had called over the stairs that she would
-meet him at her grandmother's so that they might drive
-home together.  He had called back a cheery "Yes!"
-and then, absorbed in other visions, had forgotten his
-promise.  Now he was smitten with compunction, yet
-irritated that so trifling an omission should be stored
-up against him after nearly two years of marriage.  He
-was weary of living in a perpetual tepid honeymoon,
-without the temperature of passion yet with all its
-exactions.  If May had spoken out her grievances (he
-suspected her of many) he might have laughed them
-away; but she was trained to conceal imaginary wounds
-under a Spartan smile.
-
-To disguise his own annoyance he asked how her
-grandmother was, and she answered that Mrs. Mingott
-was still improving, but had been rather disturbed by
-the last news about the Beauforts.
-
-"What news?"
-
-"It seems they're going to stay in New York.  I believe
-he's going into an insurance business, or something.
-They're looking about for a small house."
-
-The preposterousness of the case was beyond discussion,
-and they went in to dinner.  During dinner their
-talk moved in its usual limited circle; but Archer
-noticed that his wife made no allusion to Madame Olenska,
-nor to old Catherine's reception of her.  He was thankful
-for the fact, yet felt it to be vaguely ominous.
-
-They went up to the library for coffee, and Archer
-lit a cigar and took down a volume of Michelet.  He
-had taken to history in the evenings since May had
-shown a tendency to ask him to read aloud whenever
-she saw him with a volume of poetry: not that he
-disliked the sound of his own voice, but because he
-could always foresee her comments on what he read.  In
-the days of their engagement she had simply (as he now
-perceived) echoed what he told her; but since he had
-ceased to provide her with opinions she had begun to
-hazard her own, with results destructive to his enjoyment
-of the works commented on.
-
-Seeing that he had chosen history she fetched her
-workbasket, drew up an arm-chair to the green-shaded
-student lamp, and uncovered a cushion she was
-embroidering for his sofa.  She was not a clever needle-
-woman; her large capable hands were made for riding,
-rowing and open-air activities; but since other wives
-embroidered cushions for their husbands she did not
-wish to omit this last link in her devotion.
-
-She was so placed that Archer, by merely raising his
-eyes, could see her bent above her work-frame, her
-ruffled elbow-sleeves slipping back from her firm round
-arms, the betrothal sapphire shining on her left hand
-above her broad gold wedding-ring, and the right hand
-slowly and laboriously stabbing the canvas.  As she sat
-thus, the lamplight full on her clear brow, he said to
-himself with a secret dismay that he would always
-know the thoughts behind it, that never, in all the years
-to come, would she surprise him by an unexpected
-mood, by a new idea, a weakness, a cruelty or an
-emotion.  She had spent her poetry and romance on
-their short courting: the function was exhausted
-because the need was past.  Now she was simply ripening
-into a copy of her mother, and mysteriously, by the
-very process, trying to turn him into a Mr. Welland.
-He laid down his book and stood up impatiently; and
-at once she raised her head.
-
-"What's the matter?"
-
-"The room is stifling: I want a little air."
-
-He had insisted that the library curtains should draw
-backward and forward on a rod, so that they might be
-closed in the evening, instead of remaining nailed to a
-gilt cornice, and immovably looped up over layers of
-lace, as in the drawing-room; and he pulled them back
-and pushed up the sash, leaning out into the icy night.
-The mere fact of not looking at May, seated beside his
-table, under his lamp, the fact of seeing other houses,
-roofs, chimneys, of getting the sense of other lives
-outside his own, other cities beyond New York, and a
-whole world beyond his world, cleared his brain and
-made it easier to breathe.
-
-After he had leaned out into the darkness for a few
-minutes he heard her say:  "Newland!  Do shut the
-window.  You'll catch your death."
-
-He pulled the sash down and turned back.  "Catch
-my death!" he echoed; and he felt like adding:  "But
-I've caught it already.  I AM dead--I've been dead for
-months and months."
-
-And suddenly the play of the word flashed up a wild
-suggestion.  What if it were SHE who was dead!  If she
-were going to die--to die soon--and leave him free!
-The sensation of standing there, in that warm familiar
-room, and looking at her, and wishing her dead, was
-so strange, so fascinating and overmastering, that its
-enormity did not immediately strike him.  He simply
-felt that chance had given him a new possibility to
-which his sick soul might cling.  Yes, May might die--
-people did: young people, healthy people like herself:
-she might die, and set him suddenly free.
-
-She glanced up, and he saw by her widening eyes
-that there must be something strange in his own.
-
-"Newland!  Are you ill?"
-
-He shook his head and turned toward his arm-chair.
-She bent over her work-frame, and as he passed he laid
-his hand on her hair.  "Poor May!" he said.
-
-"Poor?  Why poor?" she echoed with a strained laugh.
-
-"Because I shall never be able to open a window
-without worrying you," he rejoined, laughing also.
-
-For a moment she was silent; then she said very low,
-her head bowed over her work:  "I shall never worry if
-you're happy."
-
-"Ah, my dear; and I shall never be happy unless I
-can open the windows!"
-
-"In THIS weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh
-he buried his head in his book.
-
-Six or seven days passed.  Archer heard nothing from
-Madame Olenska, and became aware that her name
-would not be mentioned in his presence by any member
-of the family.  He did not try to see her; to do so
-while she was at old Catherine's guarded bedside would
-have been almost impossible.  In the uncertainty of the
-situation he let himself drift, conscious, somewhere
-below the surface of his thoughts, of a resolve which
-had come to him when he had leaned out from his
-library window into the icy night.  The strength of that
-resolve made it easy to wait and make no sign.
-
-Then one day May told him that Mrs. Manson
-Mingott had asked to see him.  There was nothing
-surprising in the request, for the old lady was steadily
-recovering, and she had always openly declared that
-she preferred Archer to any of her other grandsons-in-
-law.  May gave the message with evident pleasure: she
-was proud of old Catherine's appreciation of her
-husband.
-
-There was a moment's pause, and then Archer felt it
-incumbent on him to say:  "All right.  Shall we go
-together this afternoon?"
-
-His wife's face brightened, but she instantly answered:
-"Oh, you'd much better go alone.  It bores Granny to
-see the same people too often."
-
-Archer's heart was beating violently when he rang
-old Mrs. Mingott's bell.  He had wanted above all
-things to go alone, for he felt sure the visit would give
-him the chance of saying a word in private to the
-Countess Olenska.  He had determined to wait till the
-chance presented itself naturally; and here it was, and
-here he was on the doorstep.  Behind the door, behind
-the curtains of the yellow damask room next to the
-hall, she was surely awaiting him; in another moment
-he should see her, and be able to speak to her before
-she led him to the sick-room.
-
-He wanted only to put one question: after that his
-course would be clear.  What he wished to ask was
-simply the date of her return to Washington; and that
-question she could hardly refuse to answer.
-
-But in the yellow sitting-room it was the mulatto
-maid who waited.  Her white teeth shining like a
-keyboard, she pushed back the sliding doors and ushered
-him into old Catherine's presence.
-
-The old woman sat in a vast throne-like arm-chair
-near her bed.  Beside her was a mahogany stand bearing
-a cast bronze lamp with an engraved globe, over which
-a green paper shade had been balanced.  There was not
-a book or a newspaper in reach, nor any evidence of
-feminine employment: conversation had always been
-Mrs. Mingott's sole pursuit, and she would have scorned
-to feign an interest in fancywork.
-
-Archer saw no trace of the slight distortion left by
-her stroke.  She merely looked paler, with darker shadows
-in the folds and recesses of her obesity; and, in the
-fluted mob-cap tied by a starched bow between her
-first two chins, and the muslin kerchief crossed over
-her billowing purple dressing-gown, she seemed like
-some shrewd and kindly ancestress of her own who
-might have yielded too freely to the pleasures of the
-table.
-
-She held out one of the little hands that nestled in a
-hollow of her huge lap like pet animals, and called to
-the maid:  "Don't let in any one else.  If my daughters
-call, say I'm asleep."
-
-The maid disappeared, and the old lady turned to
-her grandson.
-
-"My dear, am I perfectly hideous?" she asked gaily,
-launching out one hand in search of the folds of muslin
-on her inaccessible bosom.  "My daughters tell me it
-doesn't matter at my age--as if hideousness didn't matter
-all the more the harder it gets to conceal!"
-
-"My dear, you're handsomer than ever!" Archer
-rejoined in the same tone; and she threw back her head
-and laughed.
-
-"Ah, but not as handsome as Ellen!" she jerked out,
-twinkling at him maliciously; and before he could answer
-she added:  "Was she so awfully handsome the
-day you drove her up from the ferry?"
-
-He laughed, and she continued:  "Was it because you
-told her so that she had to put you out on the way?  In
-my youth young men didn't desert pretty women unless
-they were made to!"  She gave another chuckle, and
-interrupted it to say almost querulously:  "It's a pity she
-didn't marry you; I always told her so.  It would have
-spared me all this worry.  But who ever thought of
-sparing their grandmother worry?"
-
-Archer wondered if her illness had blurred her faculties;
-but suddenly she broke out:  "Well, it's settled,
-anyhow: she's going to stay with me, whatever the rest
-of the family say!  She hadn't been here five minutes
-before I'd have gone down on my knees to keep her--if
-only, for the last twenty years, I'd been able to see
-where the floor was!"
-
-Archer listened in silence, and she went on:  "They'd
-talked me over, as no doubt you know: persuaded me,
-Lovell, and Letterblair, and Augusta Welland, and all
-the rest of them, that I must hold out and cut off her
-allowance, till she was made to see that it was her duty
-to go back to Olenski.  They thought they'd convinced
-me when the secretary, or whatever he was, came out
-with the last proposals: handsome proposals I confess
-they were.  After all, marriage is marriage, and money's
-money--both useful things in their way . . . and I didn't
-know what to answer--"  She broke off and drew a
-long breath, as if speaking had become an effort.  "But
-the minute I laid eyes on her, I said:  `You sweet bird,
-you!  Shut you up in that cage again?  Never!'  And now
-it's settled that she's to stay here and nurse her Granny
-as long as there's a Granny to nurse.  It's not a gay
-prospect, but she doesn't mind; and of course I've told
-Letterblair that she's to be given her proper allowance."
-
-The young man heard her with veins aglow; but in
-his confusion of mind he hardly knew whether her
-news brought joy or pain.  He had so definitely decided
-on the course he meant to pursue that for the moment
-he could not readjust his thoughts.  But gradually there
-stole over him the delicious sense of difficulties
-deferred and opportunities miraculously provided.  If
-Ellen had consented to come and live with her grandmother
-it must surely be because she had recognised the
-impossibility of giving him up.  This was her answer to his
-final appeal of the other day: if she would not take the
-extreme step he had urged, she had at last yielded to
-half-measures.  He sank back into the thought with the
-involuntary relief of a man who has been ready to risk
-everything, and suddenly tastes the dangerous sweetness
-of security.
-
-"She couldn't have gone back--it was impossible!"
-he exclaimed.
-
-"Ah, my dear, I always knew you were on her side;
-and that's why I sent for you today, and why I said to
-your pretty wife, when she proposed to come with you:
-`No, my dear, I'm pining to see Newland, and I don't
-want anybody to share our transports.'  For you see, my
-dear--" she drew her head back as far as its tethering
-chins permitted, and looked him full in the eyes--"you
-see, we shall have a fight yet.  The family don't want
-her here, and they'll say it's because I've been ill,
-because I'm a weak old woman, that she's persuaded me.
-I'm not well enough yet to fight them one by one, and
-you've got to do it for me."
-
-"I?" he stammered.
-
-"You.  Why not?" she jerked back at him, her round
-eyes suddenly as sharp as pen-knives.  Her hand fluttered
-from its chair-arm and lit on his with a clutch of
-little pale nails like bird-claws.  "Why not?" she
-searchingly repeated.
-
-Archer, under the exposure of her gaze, had recovered
-his self-possession.
-
-"Oh, I don't count--I'm too insignificant."
-
-"Well, you're Letterblair's partner, ain't you?  You've
-got to get at them through Letterblair.  Unless you've
-got a reason," she insisted.
-
-"Oh, my dear, I back you to hold your own against
-them all without my help; but you shall have it if you
-need it," he reassured her.
-
-"Then we're safe!" she sighed; and smiling on him
-with all her ancient cunning she added, as she settled
-her head among the cushions:  "I always knew you'd
-back us up, because they never quote you when they
-talk about its being her duty to go home."
-
-He winced a little at her terrifying perspicacity, and
-longed to ask:  "And May--do they quote her?"  But he
-judged it safer to turn the question.
-
-"And Madame Olenska?  When am I to see her?" he
-said.
-
-The old lady chuckled, crumpled her lids, and went
-through the pantomime of archness.  "Not today.  One
-at a time, please.  Madame Olenska's gone out."
-
-He flushed with disappointment, and she went on:
-"She's gone out, my child: gone in my carriage to see
-Regina Beaufort."
-
-She paused for this announcement to produce its
-effect.  "That's what she's reduced me to already.  The
-day after she got here she put on her best bonnet, and
-told me, as cool as a cucumber, that she was going to
-call on Regina Beaufort.  `I don't know her; who is
-she?' says I.  `She's your grand-niece, and a most
-unhappy woman,' she says.  `She's the wife of a scoundrel,'
-I answered.  `Well,' she says, `and so am I, and yet
-all my family want me to go back to him.'  Well, that
-floored me, and I let her go; and finally one day she
-said it was raining too hard to go out on foot, and she
-wanted me to lend her my carriage.  `What for?' I asked
-her; and she said: `To go and see cousin Regina'--COUSIN!
-Now, my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it
-wasn't raining a drop; but I understood her, and I let
-her have the carriage. . . .  After all, Regina's a brave
-woman, and so is she; and I've always liked courage
-above everything."
-
-Archer bent down and pressed his lips on the little
-hand that still lay on his.
-
-"Eh--eh--eh!  Whose hand did you think you were
-kissing, young man--your wife's, I hope?" the old lady
-snapped out with her mocking cackle; and as he rose to
-go she called out after him:  "Give her her Granny's
-love; but you'd better not say anything about our talk."
-
-
-
-XXXI.
-
-Archer had been stunned by old Catherine's news.
-It was only natural that Madame Olenska should
-have hastened from Washington in response to her
-grandmother's summons; but that she should have decided
-to remain under her roof--especially now that
-Mrs. Mingott had almost regained her health--was less
-easy to explain.
-
-Archer was sure that Madame Olenska's decision
-had not been influenced by the change in her financial
-situation.  He knew the exact figure of the small income
-which her husband had allowed her at their separation.
-Without the addition of her grandmother's allowance it
-was hardly enough to live on, in any sense known to
-the Mingott vocabulary; and now that Medora Manson,
-who shared her life, had been ruined, such a
-pittance would barely keep the two women clothed and
-fed.  Yet Archer was convinced that Madame Olenska
-had not accepted her grandmother's offer from interested
-motives.
-
-She had the heedless generosity and the spasmodic
-extravagance of persons used to large fortunes, and
-indifferent to money; but she could go without many
-things which her relations considered indispensable,
-and Mrs. Lovell Mingott and Mrs. Welland had often
-been heard to deplore that any one who had enjoyed
-the cosmopolitan luxuries of Count Olenski's establishments
-should care so little about "how things were
-done."  Moreover, as Archer knew, several months had
-passed since her allowance had been cut off; yet in the
-interval she had made no effort to regain her grand-
-mother's favour.  Therefore if she had changed her course
-it must be for a different reason.
-
-He did not have far to seek for that reason.  On the
-way from the ferry she had told him that he and she
-must remain apart; but she had said it with her head
-on his breast.  He knew that there was no calculated
-coquetry in her words; she was fighting her fate as he
-had fought his, and clinging desperately to her resolve
-that they should not break faith with the people who
-trusted them.  But during the ten days which had elapsed
-since her return to New York she had perhaps guessed
-from his silence, and from the fact of his making no
-attempt to see her, that he was meditating a decisive
-step, a step from which there was no turning back.  At
-the thought, a sudden fear of her own weakness might
-have seized her, and she might have felt that, after all,
-it was better to accept the compromise usual in such
-cases, and follow the line of least resistance.
-
-An hour earlier, when he had rung Mrs. Mingott's
-bell, Archer had fancied that his path was clear before
-him.  He had meant to have a word alone with Madame
-Olenska, and failing that, to learn from her
-grandmother on what day, and by which train, she was
-returning to Washington.  In that train he intended to
-join her, and travel with her to Washington, or as
-much farther as she was willing to go.  His own fancy
-inclined to Japan.  At any rate she would understand at
-once that, wherever she went, he was going.  He meant
-to leave a note for May that should cut off any other
-alternative.
-
-He had fancied himself not only nerved for this
-plunge but eager to take it; yet his first feeling on
-hearing that the course of events was changed had been
-one of relief.  Now, however, as he walked home from
-Mrs. Mingott's, he was conscious of a growing distaste
-for what lay before him.  There was nothing unknown
-or unfamiliar in the path he was presumably to tread;
-but when he had trodden it before it was as a free man,
-who was accountable to no one for his actions, and
-could lend himself with an amused detachment to the
-game of precautions and prevarications, concealments
-and compliances, that the part required.  This procedure
-was called "protecting a woman's honour"; and
-the best fiction, combined with the after-dinner talk of
-his elders, had long since initiated him into every detail
-of its code.
-
-Now he saw the matter in a new light, and his part
-in it seemed singularly diminished.  It was, in fact, that
-which, with a secret fatuity, he had watched Mrs.
-Thorley Rushworth play toward a fond and unperceiving
-husband: a smiling, bantering, humouring, watchful
-and incessant lie.  A lie by day, a lie by night, a lie in
-every touch and every look; a lie in every caress and
-every quarrel; a lie in every word and in every silence.
-
-It was easier, and less dastardly on the whole, for a
-wife to play such a part toward her husband.  A woman's
-standard of truthfulness was tacitly held to be
-lower: she was the subject creature, and versed in the
-arts of the enslaved.  Then she could always plead moods
-and nerves, and the right not to be held too strictly to
-account; and even in the most strait-laced societies the
-laugh was always against the husband.
-
-But in Archer's little world no one laughed at a wife
-deceived, and a certain measure of contempt was
-attached to men who continued their philandering after
-marriage.  In the rotation of crops there was a recognised
-season for wild oats; but they were not to be sown
-more than once.
-
-Archer had always shared this view: in his heart he
-thought Lefferts despicable.  But to love Ellen Olenska
-was not to become a man like Lefferts: for the first
-time Archer found himself face to face with the dread
-argument of the individual case.  Ellen Olenska was like
-no other woman, he was like no other man: their
-situation, therefore, resembled no one else's, and they
-were answerable to no tribunal but that of their own
-judgment.
-
-Yes, but in ten minutes more he would be mounting
-his own doorstep; and there were May, and habit, and
-honour, and all the old decencies that he and his people
-had always believed in . . .
-
-At his corner he hesitated, and then walked on down
-Fifth Avenue.
-
-Ahead of him, in the winter night, loomed a big unlit
-house.  As he drew near he thought how often he had
-seen it blazing with lights, its steps awninged and carpeted,
-and carriages waiting in double line to draw up
-at the curbstone.  It was in the conservatory that stretched
-its dead-black bulk down the side street that he had
-taken his first kiss from May; it was under the myriad
-candles of the ball-room that he had seen her appear,
-tall and silver-shining as a young Diana.
-
-Now the house was as dark as the grave, except for a
-faint flare of gas in the basement, and a light in one
-upstairs room where the blind had not been lowered.
-As Archer reached the corner he saw that the carriage
-standing at the door was Mrs. Manson Mingott's.  What
-an opportunity for Sillerton Jackson, if he should chance
-to pass!  Archer had been greatly moved by old Catherine's
-account of Madame Olenska's attitude toward
-Mrs. Beaufort; it made the righteous reprobation of
-New York seem like a passing by on the other side.  But
-he knew well enough what construction the clubs and
-drawing-rooms would put on Ellen Olenska's visits to
-her cousin.
-
-He paused and looked up at the lighted window.  No
-doubt the two women were sitting together in that
-room: Beaufort had probably sought consolation elsewhere.
-There were even rumours that he had left New
-York with Fanny Ring; but Mrs. Beaufort's attitude
-made the report seem improbable.
-
-Archer had the nocturnal perspective of Fifth Avenue
-almost to himself.  At that hour most people were
-indoors, dressing for dinner; and he was secretly glad
-that Ellen's exit was likely to be unobserved.  As the
-thought passed through his mind the door opened, and
-she came out.  Behind her was a faint light, such as
-might have been carried down the stairs to show her
-the way.  She turned to say a word to some one; then
-the door closed, and she came down the steps.
-
-"Ellen," he said in a low voice, as she reached the
-pavement.
-
-She stopped with a slight start, and just then he saw
-two young men of fashionable cut approaching.  There
-was a familiar air about their overcoats and the way
-their smart silk mufflers were folded over their white
-ties; and he wondered how youths of their quality
-happened to be dining out so early.  Then he remembered
-that the Reggie Chiverses, whose house was a
-few doors above, were taking a large party that evening
-to see Adelaide Neilson in Romeo and Juliet, and guessed
-that the two were of the number.  They passed under a
-lamp, and he recognised Lawrence Lefferts and a young
-Chivers.
-
-A mean desire not to have Madame Olenska seen at
-the Beauforts' door vanished as he felt the penetrating
-warmth of her hand.
-
-"I shall see you now--we shall be together," he
-broke out, hardly knowing what he said.
-
-"Ah," she answered, "Granny has told you?"
-
-While he watched her he was aware that Lefferts and
-Chivers, on reaching the farther side of the street corner,
-had discreetly struck away across Fifth Avenue.  It
-was the kind of masculine solidarity that he himself
-often practised; now he sickened at their connivance.
-Did she really imagine that he and she could live like
-this?  And if not, what else did she imagine?
-
-"Tomorrow I must see you--somewhere where we
-can be alone," he said, in a voice that sounded almost
-angry to his own ears.
-
-She wavered, and moved toward the carriage.
-
-"But I shall be at Granny's--for the present that is,"
-she added, as if conscious that her change of plans
-required some explanation.
-
-"Somewhere where we can be alone," he insisted.
-
-She gave a faint laugh that grated on him.
-
-"In New York?  But there are no churches . . . no
-monuments."
-
-"There's the Art Museum--in the Park," he explained,
-as she looked puzzled.  "At half-past two.  I shall be at
-the door . . ."
-
-She turned away without answering and got quickly
-into the carriage.  As it drove off she leaned forward,
-and he thought she waved her hand in the obscurity.
-He stared after her in a turmoil of contradictory feelings.
-It seemed to him that he had been speaking not to
-the woman he loved but to another, a woman he was
-indebted to for pleasures already wearied of: it was
-hateful to find himself the prisoner of this hackneyed
-vocabulary.
-
-"She'll come!" he said to himself, almost contemptuously.
-
-Avoiding the popular "Wolfe collection," whose anecdotic
-canvases filled one of the main galleries of the queer
-wilderness of cast-iron and encaustic tiles known as the
-Metropolitan Museum, they had wandered down a
-passage to the room where the "Cesnola antiquities"
-mouldered in unvisited loneliness.
-
-They had this melancholy retreat to themselves, and
-seated on the divan enclosing the central steam-radiator,
-they were staring silently at the glass cabinets mounted
-in ebonised wood which contained the recovered fragments
-of Ilium.
-
-"It's odd," Madame Olenska said, "I never came
-here before."
-
-"Ah, well--.  Some day, I suppose, it will be a great
-Museum."
-
-"Yes," she assented absently.
-
-She stood up and wandered across the room.  Archer,
-remaining seated, watched the light movements of her
-figure, so girlish even under its heavy furs, the cleverly
-planted heron wing in her fur cap, and the way a dark
-curl lay like a flattened vine spiral on each cheek above
-the ear.  His mind, as always when they first met, was
-wholly absorbed in the delicious details that made her
-herself and no other.  Presently he rose and approached
-the case before which she stood.  Its glass shelves were
-crowded with small broken objects--hardly recognisable
-domestic utensils, ornaments and personal trifles--made
-of glass, of clay, of discoloured bronze and other time-
-blurred substances.
-
-"It seems cruel," she said, "that after a while nothing
-matters . . . any more than these little things, that used
-to be necessary and important to forgotten people, and
-now have to be guessed at under a magnifying glass
-and labelled:  `Use unknown.'"
-
-"Yes; but meanwhile--"
-
-"Ah, meanwhile--"
-
-As she stood there, in her long sealskin coat, her
-hands thrust in a small round muff, her veil drawn
-down like a transparent mask to the tip of her nose,
-and the bunch of violets he had brought her stirring
-with her quickly-taken breath, it seemed incredible that
-this pure harmony of line and colour should ever suffer
-the stupid law of change.
-
-"Meanwhile everything matters--that concerns you,"
-he said.
-
-She looked at him thoughtfully, and turned back to
-the divan.  He sat down beside her and waited; but
-suddenly he heard a step echoing far off down the
-empty rooms, and felt the pressure of the minutes.
-
-"What is it you wanted to tell me?" she asked, as if
-she had received the same warning.
-
-"What I wanted to tell you?" he rejoined.  "Why,
-that I believe you came to New York because you were
-afraid."
-
-"Afraid?"
-
-"Of my coming to Washington."
-
-She looked down at her muff, and he saw her hands
-stir in it uneasily.
-
-"Well--?"
-
-"Well--yes," she said.
-
-"You WERE afraid?  You knew--?"
-
-"Yes: I knew . . ."
-
-"Well, then?" he insisted.
-
-"Well, then: this is better, isn't it?" she returned with
-a long questioning sigh.
-
-"Better--?"
-
-"We shall hurt others less.  Isn't it, after all, what you
-always wanted?"
-
-"To have you here, you mean--in reach and yet out
-of reach?  To meet you in this way, on the sly?  It's the
-very reverse of what I want.  I told you the other day
-what I wanted."
-
-She hesitated.  "And you still think this--worse?"
-
-"A thousand times!"  He paused.  "It would be easy
-to lie to you; but the truth is I think it detestable."
-
-"Oh, so do I!" she cried with a deep breath of relief.
-
-He sprang up impatiently.  "Well, then--it's my turn
-to ask: what is it, in God's name, that you think
-better?"
-
-She hung her head and continued to clasp and unclasp
-her hands in her muff.  The step drew nearer, and
-a guardian in a braided cap walked listlessly through
-the room like a ghost stalking through a necropolis.
-They fixed their eyes simultaneously on the case opposite
-them, and when the official figure had vanished
-down a vista of mummies and sarcophagi Archer spoke
-again.
-
-"What do you think better?"
-
-Instead of answering she murmured:  "I promised
-Granny to stay with her because it seemed to me that
-here I should be safer."
-
-"From me?"
-
-She bent her head slightly, without looking at him.
-
-"Safer from loving me?"
-
-Her profile did not stir, but he saw a tear overflow
-on her lashes and hang in a mesh of her veil.
-
-"Safer from doing irreparable harm.  Don't let us be
-like all the others!" she protested.
-
-"What others?  I don't profess to be different from
-my kind.  I'm consumed by the same wants and the
-same longings."
-
-She glanced at him with a kind of terror, and he saw
-a faint colour steal into her cheeks.
-
-"Shall I--once come to you; and then go home?" she
-suddenly hazarded in a low clear voice.
-
-The blood rushed to the young man's forehead.
-"Dearest!" he said, without moving.  It seemed as if he
-held his heart in his hands, like a full cup that the least
-motion might overbrim.
-
-Then her last phrase struck his ear and his face
-clouded.  "Go home?  What do you mean by going
-home?"
-
-"Home to my husband."
-
-"And you expect me to say yes to that?"
-
-She raised her troubled eyes to his.  "What else is
-there?  I can't stay here and lie to the people who've
-been good to me."
-
-"But that's the very reason why I ask you to come
-away!"
-
-"And destroy their lives, when they've helped me to
-remake mine?"
-
-Archer sprang to his feet and stood looking down on
-her in inarticulate despair.  It would have been easy to
-say:  "Yes, come; come once."  He knew the power she
-would put in his hands if she consented; there would
-be no difficulty then in persuading her not to go back
-to her husband.
-
-But something silenced the word on his lips.  A sort
-of passionate honesty in her made it inconceivable that
-he should try to draw her into that familiar trap.  "If I
-were to let her come," he said to himself, "I should
-have to let her go again."  And that was not to be
-imagined.
-
-But he saw the shadow of the lashes on her wet
-cheek, and wavered.
-
-"After all," he began again, "we have lives of our
-own. . . .  There's no use attempting the impossible.
-You're so unprejudiced about some things, so used, as
-you say, to looking at the Gorgon, that I don't know
-why you're afraid to face our case, and see it as it
-really is--unless you think the sacrifice is not worth
-making."
-
-She stood up also, her lips tightening under a rapid
-frown.
-
-"Call it that, then--I must go," she said, drawing her
-little watch from her bosom.
-
-She turned away, and he followed and caught her by
-the wrist.  "Well, then: come to me once," he said, his
-head turning suddenly at the thought of losing her; and
-for a second or two they looked at each other almost
-like enemies.
-
-"When?" he insisted.  "Tomorrow?"
-
-She hesitated.  "The day after."
-
-"Dearest--!" he said again.
-
-She had disengaged her wrist; but for a moment they
-continued to hold each other's eyes, and he saw that
-her face, which had grown very pale, was flooded with
-a deep inner radiance.  His heart beat with awe: he felt
-that he had never before beheld love visible.
-
-"Oh, I shall be late--good-bye.  No, don't come any
-farther than this," she cried, walking hurriedly away
-down the long room, as if the reflected radiance in his
-eyes had frightened her.  When she reached the door she
-turned for a moment to wave a quick farewell.
-
-Archer walked home alone.  Darkness was falling when
-he let himself into his house, and he looked about at
-the familiar objects in the hall as if he viewed them
-from the other side of the grave.
-
-The parlour-maid, hearing his step, ran up the stairs
-to light the gas on the upper landing.
-
-"Is Mrs. Archer in?"
-
-"No, sir; Mrs. Archer went out in the carriage after
-luncheon, and hasn't come back."
-
-With a sense of relief he entered the library and flung
-himself down in his armchair.  The parlour-maid followed,
-bringing the student lamp and shaking some
-coals onto the dying fire.  When she left he continued to
-sit motionless, his elbows on his knees, his chin on his
-clasped hands, his eyes fixed on the red grate.
-
-He sat there without conscious thoughts, without
-sense of the lapse of time, in a deep and grave amazement
-that seemed to suspend life rather than quicken it.
-"This was what had to be, then . . . this was what had
-to be," he kept repeating to himself, as if he hung in
-the clutch of doom.  What he had dreamed of had been
-so different that there was a mortal chill in his rapture.
-
-The door opened and May came in.
-
-"I'm dreadfully late--you weren't worried, were you?"
-she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder with one of
-her rare caresses.
-
-He looked up astonished.  "Is it late?"
-
-"After seven.  I believe you've been asleep!"  She
-laughed, and drawing out her hat pins tossed her velvet
-hat on the sofa.  She looked paler than usual, but sparkling
-with an unwonted animation.
-
-"I went to see Granny, and just as I was going away
-Ellen came in from a walk; so I stayed and had a long
-talk with her.  It was ages since we'd had a real talk. . . ."
-She had dropped into her usual armchair, facing his,
-and was running her fingers through her rumpled hair.
-He fancied she expected him to speak.
-
-"A really good talk," she went on, smiling with what
-seemed to Archer an unnatural vividness.  "She was so
-dear--just like the old Ellen.  I'm afraid I haven't been
-fair to her lately.  I've sometimes thought--"
-
-Archer stood up and leaned against the mantelpiece,
-out of the radius of the lamp.
-
-"Yes, you've thought--?" he echoed as she paused.
-
-"Well, perhaps I haven't judged her fairly.  She's so
-different--at least on the surface.  She takes up such
-odd people--she seems to like to make herself conspicuous.
-I suppose it's the life she's led in that fast European
-society; no doubt we seem dreadfully dull to her.
-But I don't want to judge her unfairly."
-
-She paused again, a little breathless with the
-unwonted length of her speech, and sat with her lips
-slightly parted and a deep blush on her cheeks.
-
-Archer, as he looked at her, was reminded of the
-glow which had suffused her face in the Mission Garden
-at St. Augustine.  He became aware of the same
-obscure effort in her, the same reaching out toward
-something beyond the usual range of her vision.
-
-"She hates Ellen," he thought, "and she's trying to
-overcome the feeling, and to get me to help her to
-overcome it."
-
-The thought moved him, and for a moment he was
-on the point of breaking the silence between them, and
-throwing himself on her mercy.
-
-"You understand, don't you," she went on, "why
-the family have sometimes been annoyed?  We all did
-what we could for her at first; but she never seemed to
-understand.  And now this idea of going to see Mrs.
-Beaufort, of going there in Granny's carriage!  I'm afraid
-she's quite alienated the van der Luydens . . ."
-
-"Ah," said Archer with an impatient laugh.  The
-open door had closed between them again.
-
-"It's time to dress; we're dining out, aren't we?" he
-asked, moving from the fire.
-
-She rose also, but lingered near the hearth.  As he
-walked past her she moved forward impulsively, as
-though to detain him: their eyes met, and he saw that
-hers were of the same swimming blue as when he had
-left her to drive to Jersey City.
-
-She flung her arms about his neck and pressed her
-cheek to his.
-
-"You haven't kissed me today," she said in a whisper;
-and he felt her tremble in his arms.
-
-
-
-XXXII.
-
-"At the court of the Tuileries," said Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson with his reminiscent smile, "such things
-were pretty openly tolerated."
-
-The scene was the van der Luydens' black walnut
-dining-room in Madison Avenue, and the time the evening
-after Newland Archer's visit to the Museum of
-Art.  Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden had come to town
-for a few days from Skuytercliff, whither they had
-precipitately fled at the announcement of Beaufort's
-failure.  It had been represented to them that the disarray
-into which society had been thrown by this deplorable
-affair made their presence in town more necessary
-than ever.  It was one of the occasions when, as Mrs.
-Archer put it, they "owed it to society" to show themselves
-at the Opera, and even to open their own doors.
-
-"It will never do, my dear Louisa, to let people like
-Mrs. Lemuel Struthers think they can step into Regina's
-shoes.  It is just at such times that new people push
-in and get a footing.  It was owing to the epidemic of
-chicken-pox in New York the winter Mrs. Struthers
-first appeared that the married men slipped away to
-her house while their wives were in the nursery.  You
-and dear Henry, Louisa, must stand in the breach as
-you always have."
-
-Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden could not remain deaf
-to such a call, and reluctantly but heroically they had
-come to town, unmuffled the house, and sent out
-invitations for two dinners and an evening reception.
-
-On this particular evening they had invited Sillerton
-Jackson, Mrs. Archer and Newland and his wife to go
-with them to the Opera, where Faust was being sung
-for the first time that winter.  Nothing was done without
-ceremony under the van der Luyden roof, and
-though there were but four guests the repast had begun
-at seven punctually, so that the proper sequence of
-courses might be served without haste before the gentlemen
-settled down to their cigars.
-
-Archer had not seen his wife since the evening
-before.  He had left early for the office, where he had
-plunged into an accumulation of unimportant business.
-In the afternoon one of the senior partners had made
-an unexpected call on his time; and he had reached
-home so late that May had preceded him to the van der
-Luydens', and sent back the carriage.
-
-Now, across the Skuytercliff carnations and the massive
-plate, she struck him as pale and languid; but her
-eyes shone, and she talked with exaggerated animation.
-
-The subject which had called forth Mr. Sillerton
-Jackson's favourite allusion had been brought up (Archer
-fancied not without intention) by their hostess.  The
-Beaufort failure, or rather the Beaufort attitude since
-the failure, was still a fruitful theme for the drawing-
-room moralist; and after it had been thoroughly examined
-and condemned Mrs. van der Luyden had turned
-her scrupulous eyes on May Archer.
-
-"Is it possible, dear, that what I hear is true?  I was
-told your grandmother Mingott's carriage was seen
-standing at Mrs. Beaufort's door."  It was noticeable
-that she no longer called the offending lady by her
-Christian name.
-
-May's colour rose, and Mrs. Archer put in hastily:
-"If it was, I'm convinced it was there without Mrs.
-Mingott's knowledge."
-
-"Ah, you think--?"  Mrs. van der Luyden paused,
-sighed, and glanced at her husband.
-
-"I'm afraid," Mr. van der Luyden said, "that Madame
-Olenska's kind heart may have led her into the
-imprudence of calling on Mrs. Beaufort."
-
-"Or her taste for peculiar people," put in Mrs. Archer
-in a dry tone, while her eyes dwelt innocently on her
-son's.
-
-"I'm sorry to think it of Madame Olenska," said
-Mrs. van der Luyden; and Mrs. Archer murmured:
-"Ah, my dear--and after you'd had her twice at
-Skuytercliff!"
-
-It was at this point that Mr. Jackson seized the
-chance to place his favourite allusion.
-
-"At the Tuileries," he repeated, seeing the eyes of the
-company expectantly turned on him, "the standard
-was excessively lax in some respects; and if you'd asked
-where Morny's money came from--!  Or who paid the
-debts of some of the Court beauties . . ."
-
-"I hope, dear Sillerton," said Mrs. Archer, "you are
-not suggesting that we should adopt such standards?"
-
-"I never suggest," returned Mr. Jackson imperturbably.
-"But Madame Olenska's foreign bringing-up may
-make her less particular--"
-
-"Ah," the two elder ladies sighed.
-
-"Still, to have kept her grandmother's carriage at a
-defaulter's door!" Mr. van der Luyden protested; and
-Archer guessed that he was remembering, and resenting,
-the hampers of carnations he had sent to the little
-house in Twenty-third Street.
-
-"Of course I've always said that she looks at things
-quite differently," Mrs. Archer summed up.
-
-A flush rose to May's forehead.  She looked across
-the table at her husband, and said precipitately:  "I'm
-sure Ellen meant it kindly."
-
-"Imprudent people are often kind," said Mrs. Archer,
-as if the fact were scarcely an extenuation; and Mrs.
-van der Luyden murmured:  "If only she had consulted
-some one--"
-
-"Ah, that she never did!" Mrs. Archer rejoined.
-
-At this point Mr. van der Luyden glanced at his wife,
-who bent her head slightly in the direction of Mrs.
-Archer; and the glimmering trains of the three ladies
-swept out of the door while the gentlemen settled down
-to their cigars.  Mr. van der Luyden supplied short ones
-on Opera nights; but they were so good that they made
-his guests deplore his inexorable punctuality.
-
-Archer, after the first act, had detached himself from
-the party and made his way to the back of the club
-box.  From there he watched, over various Chivers,
-Mingott and Rushworth shoulders, the same scene that
-he had looked at, two years previously, on the night of
-his first meeting with Ellen Olenska.  He had half-
-expected her to appear again in old Mrs. Mingott's
-box, but it remained empty; and he sat motionless, his
-eyes fastened on it, till suddenly Madame Nilsson's
-pure soprano broke out into "M'ama, non m'ama . . . "
-
-Archer turned to the stage, where, in the familiar
-setting of giant roses and pen-wiper pansies, the same
-large blonde victim was succumbing to the same small
-brown seducer.
-
-From the stage his eyes wandered to the point of the
-horseshoe where May sat between two older ladies,
-just as, on that former evening, she had sat between
-Mrs. Lovell Mingott and her newly-arrived "foreign"
-cousin.  As on that evening, she was all in white; and
-Archer, who had not noticed what she wore, recognised
-the blue-white satin and old lace of her wedding dress.
-
-It was the custom, in old New York, for brides to
-appear in this costly garment during the first year or
-two of marriage: his mother, he knew, kept hers in
-tissue paper in the hope that Janey might some day
-wear it, though poor Janey was reaching the age when
-pearl grey poplin and no bridesmaids would be thought
-more "appropriate."
-
-It struck Archer that May, since their return from
-Europe, had seldom worn her bridal satin, and the
-surprise of seeing her in it made him compare her
-appearance with that of the young girl he had watched
-with such blissful anticipations two years earlier.
-
-Though May's outline was slightly heavier, as her
-goddesslike build had foretold, her athletic erectness of
-carriage, and the girlish transparency of her expression,
-remained unchanged: but for the slight languor that
-Archer had lately noticed in her she would have been
-the exact image of the girl playing with the bouquet of
-lilies-of-the-valley on her betrothal evening.  The fact
-seemed an additional appeal to his pity: such innocence
-was as moving as the trustful clasp of a child.  Then he
-remembered the passionate generosity latent under that
-incurious calm.  He recalled her glance of understanding
-when he had urged that their engagement should be
-announced at the Beaufort ball; he heard the voice in
-which she had said, in the Mission garden:  "I couldn't
-have my happiness made out of a wrong--a wrong to
-some one else;" and an uncontrollable longing seized
-him to tell her the truth, to throw himself on her
-generosity, and ask for the freedom he had once refused.
-
-Newland Archer was a quiet and self-controlled young
-man.  Conformity to the discipline of a small society
-had become almost his second nature.  It was deeply
-distasteful to him to do anything melodramatic and
-conspicuous, anything Mr. van der Luyden would have
-deprecated and the club box condemned as bad form.
-But he had become suddenly unconscious of the club
-box, of Mr. van der Luyden, of all that had so long
-enclosed him in the warm shelter of habit.  He walked
-along the semi-circular passage at the back of the house,
-and opened the door of Mrs. van der Luyden's box as
-if it had been a gate into the unknown.
-
-"M'ama!" thrilled out the triumphant Marguerite;
-and the occupants of the box looked up in surprise at
-Archer's entrance.  He had already broken one of the
-rules of his world, which forbade the entering of a box
-during a solo.
-
-Slipping between Mr. van der Luyden and Sillerton
-Jackson, he leaned over his wife.
-
-"I've got a beastly headache; don't tell any one, but
-come home, won't you?" he whispered.
-
-May gave him a glance of comprehension, and he
-saw her whisper to his mother, who nodded sympathetically;
-then she murmured an excuse to Mrs. van
-der Luyden, and rose from her seat just as Marguerite
-fell into Faust's arms.  Archer, while he helped her on
-with her Opera cloak, noticed the exchange of a significant
-smile between the older ladies.
-
-As they drove away May laid her hand shyly on
-his.  "I'm so sorry you don't feel well.  I'm afraid they've
-been overworking you again at the office."
-
-"No--it's not that: do you mind if I open the
-window?" he returned confusedly, letting down the pane
-on his side.  He sat staring out into the street, feeling his
-wife beside him as a silent watchful interrogation, and
-keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the passing houses.
-At their door she caught her skirt in the step of the
-carriage, and fell against him.
-
-"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, steadying her
-with his arm.
-
-"No; but my poor dress--see how I've torn it!" she
-exclaimed.  She bent to gather up a mud-stained breadth,
-and followed him up the steps into the hall.  The servants
-had not expected them so early, and there was
-only a glimmer of gas on the upper landing.
-
-Archer mounted the stairs, turned up the light, and
-put a match to the brackets on each side of the library
-mantelpiece.  The curtains were drawn, and the warm
-friendly aspect of the room smote him like that of a
-familiar face met during an unavowable errand.
-
-He noticed that his wife was very pale, and asked if
-he should get her some brandy.
-
-"Oh, no," she exclaimed with a momentary flush, as
-she took off her cloak.  "But hadn't you better go to
-bed at once?" she added, as he opened a silver box on
-the table and took out a cigarette.
-
-Archer threw down the cigarette and walked to his
-usual place by the fire.
-
-"No; my head is not as bad as that."  He paused.
-"And there's something I want to say; something
-important--that I must tell you at once."
-
-She had dropped into an armchair, and raised her
-head as he spoke.  "Yes, dear?" she rejoined, so gently
-that he wondered at the lack of wonder with which she
-received this preamble.
-
-"May--" he began, standing a few feet from her
-chair, and looking over at her as if the slight distance
-between them were an unbridgeable abyss.  The sound
-of his voice echoed uncannily through the homelike
-hush, and he repeated:  "There is something I've got to
-tell you . . . about myself . . ."
-
-She sat silent, without a movement or a tremor of
-her lashes.  She was still extremely pale, but her face
-had a curious tranquillity of expression that seemed
-drawn from some secret inner source.
-
-Archer checked the conventional phrases of self-accusal
-that were crowding to his lips.  He was determined to
-put the case baldly, without vain recrimination or excuse.
-
-"Madame Olenska--" he said; but at the name his
-wife raised her hand as if to silence him.  As she did so
-the gaslight struck on the gold of her wedding-ring.
-
-"Oh, why should we talk about Ellen tonight?" she
-asked, with a slight pout of impatience.
-
-"Because I ought to have spoken before."
-
-Her face remained calm.  "Is it really worth while,
-dear?  I know I've been unfair to her at times--perhaps
-we all have.  You've understood her, no doubt, better
-than we did: you've always been kind to her.  But what
-does it matter, now it's all over?"
-
-Archer looked at her blankly.  Could it be possible
-that the sense of unreality in which he felt himself
-imprisoned had communicated itself to his wife?
-
-"All over--what do you mean?" he asked in an
-indistinct stammer.
-
-May still looked at him with transparent eyes.  "Why--
-since she's going back to Europe so soon; since Granny
-approves and understands, and has arranged to make
-her independent of her husband--"
-
-She broke off, and Archer, grasping the corner of the
-mantelpiece in one convulsed hand, and steadying himself
-against it, made a vain effort to extend the same
-control to his reeling thoughts.
-
-"I supposed," he heard his wife's even voice go on,
-"that you had been kept at the office this evening
-about the business arrangements.  It was settled this
-morning, I believe."  She lowered her eyes under his
-unseeing stare, and another fugitive flush passed over
-her face.
-
-He understood that his own eyes must be unbearable,
-and turning away, rested his elbows on the mantel-
-shelf and covered his face.  Something drummed and
-clanged furiously in his ears; he could not tell if it were
-the blood in his veins, or the tick of the clock on the
-mantel.
-
-May sat without moving or speaking while the clock
-slowly measured out five minutes.  A lump of coal fell
-forward in the grate, and hearing her rise to push it
-back, Archer at length turned and faced her.
-
-"It's impossible," he exclaimed.
-
-"Impossible--?"
-
-"How do you know--what you've just told me?"
-
-"I saw Ellen yesterday--I told you I'd seen her at
-Granny's."
-
-"It wasn't then that she told you?"
-
-"No; I had a note from her this afternoon.--Do you
-want to see it?"
-
-He could not find his voice, and she went out of the
-room, and came back almost immediately.
-
-"I thought you knew," she said simply.
-
-She laid a sheet of paper on the table, and Archer put
-out his hand and took it up.  The letter contained only a
-few lines.
-
-"May dear, I have at last made Granny understand
-that my visit to her could be no more than a visit; and
-she has been as kind and generous as ever.  She sees
-now that if I return to Europe I must live by myself, or
-rather with poor Aunt Medora, who is coming with
-me. I am hurrying back to Washington to pack up, and
-we sail next week.  You must be very good to Granny
-when I'm gone--as good as you've always been to me.
-Ellen.
-
-"If any of my friends wish to urge me to change my
-mind, please tell them it would be utterly useless."
-
-Archer read the letter over two or three times; then
-he flung it down and burst out laughing.
-
-The sound of his laugh startled him.  It recalled Janey's
-midnight fright when she had caught him rocking with
-incomprehensible mirth over May's telegram announcing
-that the date of their marriage had been advanced.
-
-"Why did she write this?" he asked, checking his
-laugh with a supreme effort.
-
-May met the question with her unshaken candour.  "I
-suppose because we talked things over yesterday--"
-
-"What things?"
-
-"I told her I was afraid I hadn't been fair to her--
-hadn't always understood how hard it must have been
-for her here, alone among so many people who were
-relations and yet strangers; who felt the right to criticise,
-and yet didn't always know the circumstances."
-She paused.  "I knew you'd been the one friend she
-could always count on; and I wanted her to know that
-you and I were the same--in all our feelings."
-
-She hesitated, as if waiting for him to speak, and
-then added slowly:  "She understood my wishing to tell
-her this.  I think she understands everything."
-
-She went up to Archer, and taking one of his cold
-hands pressed it quickly against her cheek.
-
-"My head aches too; good-night, dear," she said,
-and turned to the door, her torn and muddy wedding-
-dress dragging after her across the room.
-
-
-
-XXXIII.
-
-It was, as Mrs. Archer smilingly said to Mrs. Welland,
-a great event for a young couple to give their first
-big dinner.
-
-The Newland Archers, since they had set up their
-household, had received a good deal of company in an
-informal way.  Archer was fond of having three or four
-friends to dine, and May welcomed them with the
-beaming readiness of which her mother had set her the
-example in conjugal affairs.  Her husband questioned
-whether, if left to herself, she would ever have asked
-any one to the house; but he had long given up trying
-to disengage her real self from the shape into which
-tradition and training had moulded her.  It was
-expected that well-off young couples in New York should
-do a good deal of informal entertaining, and a Welland
-married to an Archer was doubly pledged to the
-tradition.
-
-But a big dinner, with a hired chef and two
-borrowed footmen, with Roman punch, roses from
-Henderson's, and menus on gilt-edged cards, was a different
-affair, and not to be lightly undertaken.  As Mrs. Archer
-remarked, the Roman punch made all the difference;
-not in itself but by its manifold implications--since it
-signified either canvas-backs or terrapin, two soups, a
-hot and a cold sweet, full decolletage with short sleeves,
-and guests of a proportionate importance.
-
-It was always an interesting occasion when a young
-pair launched their first invitations in the third person,
-and their summons was seldom refused even by the
-seasoned and sought-after.  Still, it was admittedly a
-triumph that the van der Luydens, at May's request,
-should have stayed over in order to be present at her
-farewell dinner for the Countess Olenska.
-
-The two mothers-in-law sat in May's drawing-room
-on the afternoon of the great day, Mrs. Archer writing
-out the menus on Tiffany's thickest gilt-edged bristol,
-while Mrs. Welland superintended the placing of the
-palms and standard lamps.
-
-Archer, arriving late from his office, found them still
-there.  Mrs. Archer had turned her attention to the
-name-cards for the table, and Mrs. Welland was
-considering the effect of bringing forward the large gilt
-sofa, so that another "corner" might be created
-between the piano and the window.
-
-May, they told him, was in the dining-room inspecting
-the mound of Jacqueminot roses and maidenhair in
-the centre of the long table, and the placing of the
-Maillard bonbons in openwork silver baskets between
-the candelabra.  On the piano stood a large basket of
-orchids which Mr. van der Luyden had had sent from
-Skuytercliff.  Everything was, in short, as it should be
-on the approach of so considerable an event.
-
-Mrs. Archer ran thoughtfully over the list, checking
-off each name with her sharp gold pen.
-
-"Henry van der Luyden--Louisa--the Lovell Mingotts
---the Reggie Chiverses--Lawrence Lefferts and
-Gertrude--(yes, I suppose May was right to have
-them)--the Selfridge Merrys, Sillerton Jackson, Van
-Newland and his wife. (How time passes!  It seems only
-yesterday that he was your best man, Newland)--and
-Countess Olenska--yes, I think that's all. . . ."
-
-Mrs. Welland surveyed her son-in-law affectionately.
-"No one can say, Newland, that you and May are not
-giving Ellen a handsome send-off."
-
-"Ah, well," said Mrs. Archer, "I understand May's
-wanting her cousin to tell people abroad that we're not
-quite barbarians."
-
-"I'm sure Ellen will appreciate it.  She was to arrive
-this morning, I believe.  It will make a most charming
-last impression.  The evening before sailing is usually so
-dreary," Mrs. Welland cheerfully continued.
-
-Archer turned toward the door, and his mother-in-
-law called to him:  "Do go in and have a peep at the
-table.  And don't let May tire herself too much."  But he
-affected not to hear, and sprang up the stairs to his
-library.  The room looked at him like an alien countenance
-composed into a polite grimace; and he perceived
-that it had been ruthlessly "tidied," and prepared,
-by a judicious distribution of ash-trays and cedar-wood
-boxes, for the gentlemen to smoke in.
-
-"Ah, well," he thought, "it's not for long--" and he
-went on to his dressing-room.
-
-Ten days had passed since Madame Olenska's departure
-from New York.  During those ten days Archer
-had had no sign from her but that conveyed by the
-return of a key wrapped in tissue paper, and sent to his
-office in a sealed envelope addressed in her hand.  This
-retort to his last appeal might have been interpreted as
-a classic move in a familiar game; but the young man
-chose to give it a different meaning.  She was still fighting
-against her fate; but she was going to Europe, and
-she was not returning to her husband.  Nothing, therefore,
-was to prevent his following her; and once he had
-taken the irrevocable step, and had proved to her that
-it was irrevocable, he believed she would not send him
-away.
-
-This confidence in the future had steadied him to
-play his part in the present.  It had kept him from
-writing to her, or betraying, by any sign or act, his
-misery and mortification.  It seemed to him that in the
-deadly silent game between them the trumps were still
-in his hands; and he waited.
-
-There had been, nevertheless, moments sufficiently
-difficult to pass; as when Mr. Letterblair, the day after
-Madame Olenska's departure, had sent for him to go
-over the details of the trust which Mrs. Manson Mingott
-wished to create for her granddaughter.  For a couple of
-hours Archer had examined the terms of the deed with
-his senior, all the while obscurely feeling that if he had
-been consulted it was for some reason other than the
-obvious one of his cousinship; and that the close of the
-conference would reveal it.
-
-"Well, the lady can't deny that it's a handsome
-arrangement," Mr. Letterblair had summed up, after
-mumbling over a summary of the settlement.  "In fact
-I'm bound to say she's been treated pretty handsomely
-all round."
-
-"All round?" Archer echoed with a touch of
-derision.  "Do you refer to her husband's proposal to give
-her back her own money?"
-
-Mr. Letterblair's bushy eyebrows went up a fraction
-of an inch.  "My dear sir, the law's the law; and your
-wife's cousin was married under the French law.  It's to
-be presumed she knew what that meant."
-
-"Even if she did, what happened subsequently--."
-But Archer paused.  Mr. Letterblair had laid his pen-
-handle against his big corrugated nose, and was looking
-down it with the expression assumed by virtuous
-elderly gentlemen when they wish their youngers to
-understand that virtue is not synonymous with ignorance.
-
-"My dear sir, I've no wish to extenuate the Count's
-transgressions; but--but on the other side . . . I wouldn't
-put my hand in the fire . . . well, that there hadn't been
-tit for tat . . . with the young champion. . . ."  Mr.
-Letterblair unlocked a drawer and pushed a folded
-paper toward Archer.  "This report, the result of discreet
-enquiries . . ."  And then, as Archer made no
-effort to glance at the paper or to repudiate the suggestion,
-the lawyer somewhat flatly continued:  "I don't
-say it's conclusive, you observe; far from it.  But straws
-show . . . and on the whole it's eminently satisfactory
-for all parties that this dignified solution has been
-reached."
-
-"Oh, eminently," Archer assented, pushing back the
-paper.
-
-A day or two later, on responding to a summons
-from Mrs. Manson Mingott, his soul had been more
-deeply tried.
-
-He had found the old lady depressed and querulous.
-
-"You know she's deserted me?" she began at once;
-and without waiting for his reply:  "Oh, don't ask me
-why!  She gave so many reasons that I've forgotten
-them all.  My private belief is that she couldn't face the
-boredom.  At any rate that's what Augusta and my
-daughters-in-law think.  And I don't know that I
-altogether blame her.  Olenski's a finished scoundrel; but
-life with him must have been a good deal gayer than it
-is in Fifth Avenue.  Not that the family would admit
-that: they think Fifth Avenue is Heaven with the rue de
-la Paix thrown in.  And poor Ellen, of course, has no
-idea of going back to her husband.  She held out as
-firmly as ever against that.  So she's to settle down in
-Paris with that fool Medora. . . .  Well, Paris is Paris;
-and you can keep a carriage there on next to nothing.
-But she was as gay as a bird, and I shall miss her."
-Two tears, the parched tears of the old, rolled down
-her puffy cheeks and vanished in the abysses of her
-bosom.
-
-"All I ask is," she concluded, "that they shouldn't
-bother me any more.  I must really be allowed to digest
-my gruel. . . ."  And she twinkled a little wistfully at
-Archer.
-
-It was that evening, on his return home, that May
-announced her intention of giving a farewell dinner to
-her cousin.  Madame Olenska's name had not been
-pronounced between them since the night of her flight
-to Washington; and Archer looked at his wife with
-surprise.
-
-"A dinner--why?" he interrogated.
-
-Her colour rose.  "But you like Ellen--I thought you'd
-be pleased."
-
-"It's awfully nice--your putting it in that way.  But I
-really don't see--"
-
-"I mean to do it, Newland," she said, quietly rising
-and going to her desk.  "Here are the invitations all
-written.  Mother helped me--she agrees that we ought
-to."  She paused, embarrassed and yet smiling, and
-Archer suddenly saw before him the embodied image
-of the Family.
-
-"Oh, all right," he said, staring with unseeing eyes at
-the list of guests that she had put in his hand.
-
-When he entered the drawing-room before dinner May
-was stooping over the fire and trying to coax the logs
-to burn in their unaccustomed setting of immaculate
-tiles.
-
-The tall lamps were all lit, and Mr. van der Luyden's
-orchids had been conspicuously disposed in various
-receptacles of modern porcelain and knobby silver.  Mrs.
-Newland Archer's drawing-room was generally thought
-a great success.  A gilt bamboo jardiniere, in which
-the primulas and cinerarias were punctually renewed,
-blocked the access to the bay window (where the old-
-fashioned would have preferred a bronze reduction of
-the Venus of Milo); the sofas and arm-chairs of pale
-brocade were cleverly grouped about little plush tables
-densely covered with silver toys, porcelain animals and
-efflorescent photograph frames; and tall rosy-shaded
-lamps shot up like tropical flowers among the palms.
-
-"I don't think Ellen has ever seen this room lighted
-up," said May, rising flushed from her struggle, and
-sending about her a glance of pardonable pride.  The
-brass tongs which she had propped against the side of
-the chimney fell with a crash that drowned her husband's
-answer; and before he could restore them Mr.
-and Mrs. van der Luyden were announced.
-
-The other guests quickly followed, for it was known
-that the van der Luydens liked to dine punctually.  The
-room was nearly full, and Archer was engaged in showing
-to Mrs. Selfridge Merry a small highly-varnished
-Verbeckhoven "Study of Sheep," which Mr. Welland
-had given May for Christmas, when he found Madame
-Olenska at his side.
-
-She was excessively pale, and her pallor made her
-dark hair seem denser and heavier than ever.  Perhaps
-that, or the fact that she had wound several rows of
-amber beads about her neck, reminded him suddenly of
-the little Ellen Mingott he had danced with at children's
-parties, when Medora Manson had first brought
-her to New York.
-
-The amber beads were trying to her complexion, or
-her dress was perhaps unbecoming: her face looked
-lustreless and almost ugly, and he had never loved it as
-he did at that minute.  Their hands met, and he thought
-he heard her say:  "Yes, we're sailing tomorrow in the
-Russia--"; then there was an unmeaning noise of opening
-doors, and after an interval May's voice:  "Newland!
-Dinner's been announced.  Won't you please take Ellen
-in?"
-
-Madame Olenska put her hand on his arm, and he
-noticed that the hand was ungloved, and remembered
-how he had kept his eyes fixed on it the evening that he
-had sat with her in the little Twenty-third Street drawing-
-room.  All the beauty that had forsaken her face seemed
-to have taken refuge in the long pale fingers and faintly
-dimpled knuckles on his sleeve, and he said to himself:
-"If it were only to see her hand again I  should  have  to
-follow her--."
-
-It was only at an entertainment ostensibly offered to
-a "foreign visitor" that Mrs. van der Luyden could
-suffer the diminution of being placed on her host's left.
-The fact of Madame Olenska's "foreignness" could
-hardly have been more adroitly emphasised than by
-this farewell tribute; and Mrs. van der Luyden accepted
-her displacement with an affability which left no doubt
-as to her approval.  There were certain things that had
-to be done, and if done at all, done handsomely and
-thoroughly; and one of these, in the old New York
-code, was the tribal rally around a kinswoman about
-to be eliminated from the tribe.  There was nothing on
-earth that the Wellands and Mingotts would not have
-done to proclaim their unalterable affection for the
-Countess Olenska now that her passage for Europe
-was engaged; and Archer, at the head of his table, sat
-marvelling at the silent untiring activity with which her
-popularity had been retrieved, grievances against her
-silenced, her past countenanced, and her present irradiated
-by the family approval.  Mrs. van der Luyden
-shone on her with the dim benevolence which was her
-nearest approach to cordiality, and Mr. van der Luyden,
-from his seat at May's right, cast down the table glances
-plainly intended to justify all the carnations he had sent
-from Skuytercliff.
-
-Archer, who seemed to be assisting at the scene in a
-state of odd imponderability, as if he floated somewhere
-between chandelier and ceiling, wondered at
-nothing so much as his own share in the proceedings.
-As his glance travelled from one placid well-fed face to
-another he saw all the harmless-looking people engaged
-upon May's canvas-backs as a band of dumb conspirators,
-and himself and the pale woman on his right as
-the centre of their conspiracy.  And then it came over
-him, in a vast flash made up of many broken gleams,
-that to all of them he and Madame Olenska were
-lovers, lovers in the extreme sense peculiar to "foreign"
-vocabularies.  He guessed himself to have been, for
-months, the centre of countless silently observing eyes
-and patiently listening ears; he understood that, by
-means as yet unknown to him, the separation between
-himself and the partner of his guilt had been achieved,
-and that now the whole tribe had rallied about his wife
-on the tacit assumption that nobody knew anything, or
-had ever imagined anything, and that the occasion of
-the entertainment was simply May Archer's natural
-desire to take an affectionate leave of her friend and
-cousin.
-
-It was the old New York way of taking life "without
-effusion of blood": the way of people who dreaded
-scandal more than disease, who placed decency above
-courage, and who considered that nothing was more
-ill-bred than "scenes," except the behaviour of those
-who gave rise to them.
-
-As these thoughts succeeded each other in his mind
-Archer felt like a prisoner in the centre of an armed
-camp.  He looked about the table, and guessed at the
-inexorableness of his captors from the tone in which,
-over the asparagus from Florida, they were dealing
-with Beaufort and his wife.  "It's to show me," he
-thought, "what would happen to ME--" and a deathly
-sense of the superiority of implication and analogy over
-direct action, and of silence over rash words, closed in
-on him like the doors of the family vault.
-
-He laughed, and met Mrs. van der Luyden's startled
-eyes.
-
-"You think it laughable?" she said with a pinched
-smile.  "Of course poor Regina's idea of remaining in
-New York has its ridiculous side, I suppose;" and
-Archer muttered:  "Of course."
-
-At this point, he became conscious that Madame
-Olenska's other neighbour had been engaged for some
-time with the lady on his right.  At the same moment he
-saw that May, serenely enthroned between Mr. van der
-Luyden and Mr. Selfridge Merry, had cast a quick
-glance down the table.  It was evident that the host and
-the lady on his right could not sit through the whole
-meal in silence.  He turned to Madame Olenska, and
-her pale smile met him.  "Oh, do let's see it through," it
-seemed to say.
-
-"Did you find the journey tiring?" he asked in a
-voice that surprised him by its naturalness; and she
-answered that, on the contrary, she had seldom travelled
-with fewer discomforts.
-
-"Except, you know, the dreadful heat in the train,"
-she added; and he remarked that she would not suffer
-from that particular hardship in the country she was
-going to.
-
-"I never," he declared with intensity, "was more
-nearly frozen than once, in April, in the train between
-Calais and Paris."
-
-She said she did not wonder, but remarked that,
-after all, one could always carry an extra rug, and that
-every form of travel had its hardships; to which he
-abruptly returned that he thought them all of no account
-compared with the blessedness of getting away.
-She changed colour, and he added, his voice suddenly
-rising in pitch:  "I mean to do a lot of travelling myself
-before long."  A tremor crossed her face, and leaning
-over to Reggie Chivers, he cried out:  "I say, Reggie,
-what do you say to a trip round the world: now, next
-month, I mean?  I'm game if you are--" at which Mrs.
-Reggie piped up that she could not think of letting
-Reggie go till after the Martha Washington Ball she
-was getting up for the Blind Asylum in Easter week;
-and her husband placidly observed that by that time he
-would have to be practising for the International Polo
-match.
-
-But Mr. Selfridge Merry had caught the phrase "round
-the world," and having once circled the globe in his
-steam-yacht, he seized the opportunity to send down
-the table several striking items concerning the shallowness
-of the Mediterranean ports.  Though, after all, he
-added, it didn't matter; for when you'd seen Athens
-and Smyrna and Constantinople, what else was there?
-And Mrs. Merry said she could never be too grateful to
-Dr. Bencomb for having made them promise not to go
-to Naples on account of the fever.
-
-"But you must have three weeks to do India properly,"
-her husband conceded, anxious to have it understood
-that he was no frivolous globe-trotter.
-
-And at this point the ladies went up to the drawing-
-room.
-
-In the library, in spite of weightier presences, Lawrence
-Lefferts predominated.
-
-The talk, as usual, had veered around to the Beauforts,
-and even Mr. van der Luyden and Mr. Selfridge
-Merry, installed in the honorary arm-chairs tacitly
-reserved for them, paused to listen to the younger man's
-philippic.
-
-Never had Lefferts so abounded in the sentiments
-that adorn Christian manhood and exalt the sanctity of
-the home.  Indignation lent him a scathing eloquence,
-and it was clear that if others had followed his example,
-and acted as he talked, society would never have
-been weak enough to receive a foreign upstart like
-Beaufort--no, sir, not even if he'd married a van der
-Luyden or a Lanning instead of a Dallas.  And what
-chance would there have been, Lefferts wrathfully
-questioned, of his marrying into such a family as the Dallases,
-if he had not already wormed his way into certain
-houses, as people like Mrs. Lemuel Struthers had managed
-to worm theirs in his wake?  If society chose to
-open its doors to vulgar women the harm was not
-great, though the gain was doubtful; but once it got in
-the way of tolerating men of obscure origin and tainted
-wealth the end was total disintegration--and at no
-distant date.
-
-"If things go on at this pace," Lefferts thundered,
-looking like a young prophet dressed by Poole, and
-who had not yet been stoned, "we shall see our children
-fighting for invitations to swindlers' houses, and
-marrying Beaufort's bastards."
-
-"Oh, I say--draw it mild!" Reggie Chivers and young
-Newland protested, while Mr. Selfridge Merry looked
-genuinely alarmed, and an expression of pain and disgust
-settled on Mr. van der Luyden's sensitive face.
-
-"Has he got any?" cried Mr. Sillerton Jackson,
-pricking up his ears; and while Lefferts tried to turn the
-question with a laugh, the old gentleman twittered into
-Archer's ear:  "Queer, those fellows who are always
-wanting to set things right.  The people who have the
-worst cooks are always telling you they're poisoned
-when they dine out.  But I hear there are pressing reasons
-for our friend Lawrence's diatribe:--typewriter
-this time, I understand. . . ."
-
-The talk swept past Archer like some senseless river
-running and running because it did not know enough
-to stop.  He saw, on the faces about him, expressions of
-interest, amusement and even mirth.  He listened to the
-younger men's laughter, and to the praise of the Archer
-Madeira, which Mr. van der Luyden and Mr. Merry
-were thoughtfully celebrating.  Through it all he was
-dimly aware of a general attitude of friendliness toward
-himself, as if the guard of the prisoner he felt himself to
-be were trying to soften his captivity; and the perception
-increased his passionate determination to be free.
-
-In the drawing-room, where they presently joined the
-ladies, he met May's triumphant eyes, and read in them
-the conviction that everything had "gone off" beautifully.
-She rose from Madame Olenska's side, and immediately
-Mrs. van der Luyden beckoned the latter to a
-seat on the gilt sofa where she throned.  Mrs. Selfridge
-Merry bore across the room to join them, and it became
-clear to Archer that here also a conspiracy of
-rehabilitation and obliteration was going on.  The silent
-organisation which held his little world together was
-determined to put itself on record as never for a moment
-having questioned the propriety of Madame Olenska's
-conduct, or the completeness of Archer's domestic
-felicity.  All these amiable and inexorable persons were
-resolutely engaged in pretending to each other that they
-had never heard of, suspected, or even conceived possible,
-the least hint to the contrary; and from this tissue
-of elaborate mutual dissimulation Archer once more
-disengaged the fact that New York believed him to be
-Madame Olenska's lover.  He caught the glitter of victory
-in his wife's eyes, and for the first time understood
-that she shared the belief.  The discovery roused a laughter
-of inner devils that reverberated through all his
-efforts to discuss the Martha Washington ball with
-Mrs. Reggie Chivers and little Mrs. Newland; and so
-the evening swept on, running and running like a senseless
-river that did not know how to stop.
-
-At length he saw that Madame Olenska had risen
-and was saying good-bye.  He understood that in a
-moment she would be gone, and tried to remember
-what he had said to her at dinner; but he could not
-recall a single word they had exchanged.
-
-She went up to May, the rest of the company making
-a circle about her as she advanced.  The two young
-women clasped hands; then May bent forward and
-kissed her cousin.
-
-"Certainly our hostess is much the handsomer of the
-two," Archer heard Reggie Chivers say in an undertone
-to young Mrs. Newland; and he remembered Beaufort's
-coarse sneer at May's ineffectual beauty.
-
-A moment later he was in the hall, putting Madame
-Olenska's cloak about her shoulders.
-
-Through all his confusion of mind he had held fast
-to the resolve to say nothing that might startle or
-disturb her.  Convinced that no power could now turn
-him from his purpose he had found strength to let
-events shape themselves as they would.  But as he
-followed Madame Olenska into the hall he thought with a
-sudden hunger of being for a moment alone with her at
-the door of her carriage.
-
-"Is your carriage here?" he asked; and at that
-moment Mrs. van der Luyden, who was being majestically
-inserted into her sables, said gently:  "We are driving
-dear Ellen home."
-
-Archer's heart gave a jerk, and Madame Olenska,
-clasping her cloak and fan with one hand, held out the
-other to him.  "Good-bye," she said.
-
-"Good-bye--but I shall see you soon in Paris," he
-answered aloud--it seemed to him that he had shouted
-it.
-
-"Oh," she murmured, "if you and May could
-come--!"
-
-Mr. van der Luyden advanced to give her his arm,
-and Archer turned to Mrs. van der Luyden.  For a
-moment, in the billowy darkness inside the big landau,
-he caught the dim oval of a face, eyes shining steadily--
-and she was gone.
-
-As he went up the steps he crossed Lawrence Lefferts
-coming down with his wife.  Lefferts caught his host by
-the sleeve, drawing back to let Gertrude pass.
-
-"I say, old chap: do you mind just letting it be
-understood that I'm dining with you at the club tomorrow
-night?  Thanks so much, you old brick!  Good-night."
-
-"It DID go off beautifully, didn't it?" May questioned
-from the threshold of the library.
-
-Archer roused himself with a start.  As soon as the
-last carriage had driven away, he had come up to the
-library and shut himself in, with the hope that his wife,
-who still lingered below, would go straight to her room.
-But there she stood, pale and drawn, yet radiating the
-factitious energy of one who has passed beyond fatigue.
-
-"May I come and talk it over?" she asked.
-
-"Of course, if you like.  But you must be awfully
-sleepy--"
-
-"No, I'm not sleepy.  I should like to sit with you a
-little."
-
-"Very well," he said, pushing her chair near the fire.
-
-She sat down and he resumed his seat; but neither
-spoke for a long time.  At length Archer began abruptly:
-"Since you're not tired, and want to talk, there's something
-I must tell you.  I tried to the other night--."
-
-She looked at him quickly.  "Yes, dear.  Something
-about yourself?"
-
-"About myself.  You say you're not tired: well, I am.
-Horribly tired . . ."
-
-In an instant she was all tender anxiety.  "Oh, I've
-seen it coming on, Newland!  You've been so wickedly
-overworked--"
-
-"Perhaps it's that.  Anyhow, I want to make a break--"
-
-"A break?  To give up the law?"
-
-"To go away, at any rate--at once.  On a long trip,
-ever so far off--away from everything--"
-
-He paused, conscious that he had failed in his attempt
-to speak with the indifference of a man who
-longs for a change, and is yet too weary to welcome it.
-Do what he would, the chord of eagerness vibrated.
-"Away from everything--" he repeated.
-
-"Ever so far?  Where, for instance?" she asked.
-
-"Oh, I don't know.  India--or Japan."
-
-She stood up, and as he sat with bent head, his chin
-propped on his hands, he felt her warmly and fragrantly
-hovering over him.
-
-"As far as that?  But I'm afraid you can't, dear . . ."
-she said in an unsteady voice.  "Not unless you'll take
-me with you."  And then, as he was silent, she went on,
-in tones so clear and evenly-pitched that each separate
-syllable tapped like a little hammer on his brain:  "That
-is, if the doctors will let me go . . . but I'm afraid they
-won't.  For you see, Newland, I've been sure since this
-morning of something I've been so longing and hoping
-for--"
-
-He looked up at her with a sick stare, and she sank
-down, all dew and roses, and hid her face against his
-knee.
-
-"Oh, my dear," he said, holding her to him while his
-cold hand stroked her hair.
-
-There was a long pause, which the inner devils filled
-with strident laughter; then May freed herself from his
-arms and stood up.
-
-"You didn't guess--?"
-
-"Yes--I; no.  That is, of course I hoped--"
-
-They looked at each other for an instant and again
-fell silent; then, turning his eyes from hers, he asked
-abruptly:  "Have you told any one else?"
-
-"Only Mamma and your mother."  She paused, and
-then added hurriedly, the blood flushing up to her
-forehead:  "That is--and Ellen.  You know I told you
-we'd had a long talk one afternoon--and how dear she
-was to me."
-
-"Ah--" said Archer, his heart stopping.
-
-He felt that his wife was watching him intently.  "Did
-you MIND my telling her first, Newland?"
-
-"Mind?  Why should I?"  He made a last effort to
-collect himself.  "But that was a fortnight ago, wasn't
-it?  I thought you said you weren't sure till today."
-
-Her colour burned deeper, but she held his gaze.
-"No; I wasn't sure then--but I told her I was.  And you
-see I was right!" she exclaimed, her blue eyes wet with
-victory.
-
-
-
-XXXIV.
-
-Newland Archer sat at the writing-table in his library
-in East Thirty-ninth Street.
-
-He had just got back from a big official reception for
-the inauguration of the new galleries at the Metropolitan
-Museum, and the spectacle of those great spaces
-crowded with the spoils of the ages, where the throng
-of fashion circulated through a series of scientifically
-catalogued treasures, had suddenly pressed on a rusted
-spring of memory.
-
-"Why, this used to be one of the old Cesnola rooms,"
-he heard some one say; and instantly everything about
-him vanished, and he was sitting alone on a hard
-leather divan against a radiator, while a slight figure in
-a long sealskin cloak moved away down the meagrely-
-fitted vista of the old Museum.
-
-The vision had roused a host of other associations,
-and he sat looking with new eyes at the library which,
-for over thirty years, had been the scene of his solitary
-musings and of all the family confabulations.
-
-It was the room in which most of the real things of
-his life had happened.  There his wife, nearly twenty-six
-years ago, had broken to him, with a blushing
-circumlocution that would have caused the young women of
-the new generation to smile, the news that she was to
-have a child; and there their eldest boy, Dallas, too
-delicate to be taken to church in midwinter, had been
-christened by their old friend the Bishop of New York,
-the ample magnificent irreplaceable Bishop, so long the
-pride and ornament of his diocese.  There Dallas had
-first staggered across the floor shouting "Dad," while
-May and the nurse laughed behind the door; there their
-second child, Mary (who was so like her mother), had
-announced her engagement to the dullest and most
-reliable of Reggie Chivers's many sons; and there Archer
-had kissed her through her wedding veil before they
-went down to the motor which was to carry them to
-Grace Church--for in a world where all else had reeled
-on its foundations the "Grace Church wedding"
-remained an unchanged institution.
-
-It was in the library that he and May had always
-discussed the future of the children: the studies of
-Dallas and his young brother Bill, Mary's incurable
-indifference to "accomplishments," and passion for
-sport and philanthropy, and the vague leanings toward
-"art" which had finally landed the restless and curious
-Dallas in the office of a rising New York architect.
-
-The young men nowadays were emancipating
-themselves from the law and business and taking up all sorts
-of new things.  If they were not absorbed in state politics
-or municipal reform, the chances were that they
-were going in for Central American archaeology, for
-architecture or landscape-engineering; taking a keen
-and learned interest in the prerevolutionary buildings
-of their own country, studying and adapting Georgian
-types, and protesting at the meaningless use of the
-word "Colonial."  Nobody nowadays had "Colonial"
-houses except the millionaire grocers of the suburbs.
-
-But above all--sometimes Archer put it above all--it
-was in that library that the Governor of New York,
-coming down from Albany one evening to dine and
-spend the night, had turned to his host, and said,
-banging his clenched fist on the table and gnashing his
-eye-glasses:  "Hang the professional politician!  You're
-the kind of man the country wants, Archer.  If the
-stable's ever to be cleaned out, men like you have got
-to lend a hand in the cleaning."
-
-"Men like you--" how Archer had glowed at the
-phrase!  How eagerly he had risen up at the call!  It was
-an echo of Ned Winsett's old appeal to roll his sleeves
-up and get down into the muck; but spoken by a man
-who set the example of the gesture, and whose summons
-to follow him was irresistible.
-
-Archer, as he looked back, was not sure that men
-like himself WERE what his country needed, at least in
-the active service to which Theodore Roosevelt had
-pointed; in fact, there was reason to think it did not,
-for after a year in the State Assembly he had not been
-re-elected, and had dropped back thankfully into
-obscure if useful municipal work, and from that again to
-the writing of occasional articles in one of the
-reforming weeklies that were trying to shake the country
-out of its apathy.  It was little enough to look back on;
-but when he remembered to what the young men of his
-generation and his set had looked forward--the narrow
-groove of money-making, sport and society to
-which their vision had been limited--even his small
-contribution to the new state of things seemed to count,
-as each brick counts in a well-built wall.  He had done
-little in public life; he would always be by nature a
-contemplative and a dilettante; but he had had high
-things to contemplate, great things to delight in; and
-one great man's friendship to be his strength and pride.
-
-He had been, in short, what people were beginning
-to call "a good citizen."  In New York, for many years
-past, every new movement, philanthropic, municipal or
-artistic, had taken account of his opinion and wanted
-his name.  People said:  "Ask Archer" when there was a
-question of starting the first school for crippled children,
-reorganising the Museum of Art, founding the
-Grolier Club, inaugurating the new Library, or getting
-up a new society of chamber music.  His days were full,
-and they were filled decently.  He supposed it was all a
-man ought to ask.
-
-Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life.
-But he thought of it now as a thing so unattainable
-and improbable that to have repined would have been
-like despairing because one had not drawn the first prize
-in a lottery.  There were a hundred million tickets in HIS
-lottery, and there was only one prize; the chances had
-been too decidedly against him.  When he thought of Ellen
-Olenska it was abstractly, serenely, as one might think
-of some imaginary beloved in a book or a picture: she
-had become the composite vision of all that he had
-missed.  That vision, faint and tenuous as it was, had kept
-him from thinking of other women.  He had been what
-was called a faithful husband; and when May had
-suddenly died--carried off by the infectious pneumonia
-through which she had nursed their youngest child--he
-had honestly mourned her.  Their long years together had
-shown him that it did not so much matter if marriage was
-a dull duty, as long as it kept the dignity of a duty: lapsing
-from that, it became a mere battle of ugly appetites.
-Looking about him, he honoured his own past, and
-mourned for it.  After all, there was good in the old ways.
-
-His eyes, making the round of the room--done over
-by Dallas with English mezzotints, Chippendale cabinets,
-bits of chosen blue-and-white and pleasantly shaded
-electric lamps--came back to the old Eastlake writing-
-table that he had never been willing to banish, and to
-his first photograph of May, which still kept its place
-beside his inkstand.
-
-There she was, tall, round-bosomed and willowy, in
-her starched muslin and flapping Leghorn, as he had
-seen her under the orange-trees in the Mission garden.
-And as he had seen her that day, so she had remained;
-never quite at the same height, yet never far below it:
-generous, faithful, unwearied; but so lacking in
-imagination, so incapable of growth, that the world of her
-youth had fallen into pieces and rebuilt itself without
-her ever being conscious of the change.  This hard bright
-blindness had kept her immediate horizon apparently
-unaltered.  Her incapacity to recognise change made her
-children conceal their views from her as Archer concealed
-his; there had been, from the first, a joint pretence
-of sameness, a kind of innocent family hypocrisy,
-in which father and children had unconsciously
-collaborated.  And she had died thinking the world a good
-place, full of loving and harmonious households like
-her own, and resigned to leave it because she was
-convinced that, whatever happened, Newland would
-continue to inculcate in Dallas the same principles and
-prejudices which had shaped his parents' lives, and that
-Dallas in turn (when Newland followed her) would
-transmit the sacred trust to little Bill.  And of Mary she
-was sure as of her own self.  So, having snatched little
-Bill from the grave, and given her life in the effort, she
-went contentedly to her place in the Archer vault in St.
-Mark's, where Mrs. Archer already lay safe from the
-terrifying "trend" which her daughter-in-law had never
-even become aware of.
-
-Opposite May's portrait stood one of her daughter.
-Mary Chivers was as tall and fair as her mother, but
-large-waisted, flat-chested and slightly slouching, as the
-altered fashion required.  Mary Chivers's mighty feats
-of athleticism could not have been performed with the
-twenty-inch waist that May Archer's azure sash so
-easily spanned.  And the difference seemed symbolic;
-the mother's life had been as closely girt as her figure.
-Mary, who was no less conventional, and no more
-intelligent, yet led a larger life and held more tolerant
-views.  There was good in the new order too.
-
-The telephone clicked, and Archer, turning from the
-photographs, unhooked the transmitter at his elbow.
-How far they were from the days when the legs of the
-brass-buttoned messenger boy had been New York's
-only means of quick communication!
-
-"Chicago wants you."
-
-Ah--it must be a long-distance from Dallas, who
-had been sent to Chicago by his firm to talk over the
-plan of the Lakeside palace they were to build for a
-young millionaire with ideas.  The firm always sent
-Dallas on such errands.
-
-"Hallo, Dad--Yes: Dallas.  I say--how do you feel
-about sailing on Wednesday?  Mauretania: Yes, next
-Wednesday as ever is.  Our client wants me to look at
-some Italian gardens before we settle anything, and has
-asked me to nip over on the next boat.  I've got to be
-back on the first of June--" the voice broke into a
-joyful conscious laugh--"so we must look alive.  I say,
-Dad, I want your help: do come."
-
-Dallas seemed to be speaking in the room: the voice
-was as near by and natural as if he had been lounging
-in his favourite arm-chair by the fire.  The fact would
-not ordinarily have surprised Archer, for long-distance
-telephoning had become as much a matter of course as
-electric lighting and five-day Atlantic voyages.  But the
-laugh did startle him; it still seemed wonderful that
-across all those miles and miles of country--forest,
-river, mountain, prairie, roaring cities and busy indifferent
-millions--Dallas's laugh should be able to say:
-"Of course, whatever happens, I must get back on the
-first, because Fanny Beaufort and I are to be married
-on the fifth."
-
-The voice began again:  "Think it over?  No, sir: not a
-minute.  You've got to say yes now.  Why not, I'd like to
-know?  If you can allege a single reason--No; I knew it.
-Then it's a go, eh?  Because I count on you to ring up
-the Cunard office first thing tomorrow; and you'd better
-book a return on a boat from Marseilles.  I say,
-Dad; it'll be our last time together, in this kind of
-way--.  Oh, good!  I knew you would."
-
-Chicago rang off, and Archer rose and began to pace
-up and down the room.
-
-It would be their last time together in this kind of
-way: the boy was right.  They would have lots of other
-"times" after Dallas's marriage, his father was sure; for
-the two were born comrades, and Fanny Beaufort,
-whatever one might think of her, did not seem likely to
-interfere with their intimacy.  On the contrary, from
-what he had seen of her, he thought she would be
-naturally included in it.  Still, change was change, and
-differences were differences, and much as he felt himself
-drawn toward his future daughter-in-law, it was
-tempting to seize this last chance of being alone with
-his boy.
-
-There was no reason why he should not seize it,
-except the profound one that he had lost the habit of
-travel.  May had disliked to move except for valid reasons,
-such as taking the children to the sea or in the
-mountains: she could imagine no other motive for leaving
-the house in Thirty-ninth Street or their comfortable
-quarters at the Wellands' in Newport.  After Dallas
-had taken his degree she had thought it her duty to
-travel for six months; and the whole family had made
-the old-fashioned tour through England, Switzerland
-and Italy.  Their time being limited (no one knew why)
-they had omitted France.  Archer remembered Dallas's
-wrath at being asked to contemplate Mont Blanc
-instead of Rheims and Chartres.  But Mary and Bill wanted
-mountain-climbing, and had already yawned their way
-in Dallas's wake through the English cathedrals; and
-May, always fair to her children, had insisted on holding
-the balance evenly between their athletic and artistic
-proclivities.  She had indeed proposed that her husband
-should go to Paris for a fortnight, and join them on the
-Italian lakes after they had "done" Switzerland; but
-Archer had declined.  "We'll stick together," he said;
-and May's face had brightened at his setting such a
-good example to Dallas.
-
-Since her death, nearly two years before, there had
-been no reason for his continuing in the same routine.
-His children had urged him to travel: Mary Chivers
-had felt sure it would do him good to go abroad and
-"see the galleries."  The very mysteriousness of such a
-cure made her the more confident of its efficacy.  But
-Archer had found himself held fast by habit, by memories,
-by a sudden startled shrinking from new things.
-
-Now, as he reviewed his past, he saw into what a
-deep rut he had sunk.  The worst of doing one's duty
-was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything
-else.  At least that was the view that the men of his
-generation had taken.  The trenchant divisions between
-right and wrong, honest and dishonest, respectable and
-the reverse, had left so little scope for the unforeseen.
-There are moments when a man's imagination, so easily
-subdued to what it lives in, suddenly rises above its
-daily level, and surveys the long windings of destiny.
-Archer hung there and wondered. . . .
-
-What was left of the little world he had grown up in,
-and whose standards had bent and bound him?  He
-remembered a sneering prophecy of poor Lawrence
-Lefferts's, uttered years ago in that very room:  "If
-things go on at this rate, our children will be marrying
-Beaufort's bastards."
-
-It was just what Archer's eldest son, the pride of his
-life, was doing; and nobody wondered or reproved.
-Even the boy's Aunt Janey, who still looked so exactly
-as she used to in her elderly youth, had taken her
-mother's emeralds and seed-pearls out of their pink
-cotton-wool, and carried them with her own twitching
-hands to the future bride; and Fanny Beaufort, instead
-of looking disappointed at not receiving a "set" from a
-Paris jeweller, had exclaimed at their old-fashioned
-beauty, and declared that when she wore them she
-should feel like an Isabey miniature.
-
-Fanny Beaufort, who had appeared in New York at
-eighteen, after the death of her parents, had won its
-heart much as Madame Olenska had won it thirty
-years earlier; only instead of being distrustful and afraid
-of her, society took her joyfully for granted.  She was
-pretty, amusing and accomplished: what more did any
-one want?  Nobody was narrow-minded enough to rake
-up against her the half-forgotten facts of her father's
-past and her own origin.  Only the older people remembered
-so obscure an incident in the business life of New
-York as Beaufort's failure, or the fact that after his
-wife's death he had been quietly married to the notorious
-Fanny Ring, and had left the country with his new
-wife, and a little girl who inherited her beauty.  He was
-subsequently heard of in Constantinople, then in Russia;
-and a dozen years later American travellers were
-handsomely entertained by him in Buenos Ayres, where
-he represented a large insurance agency.  He and his
-wife died there in the odour of prosperity; and one day
-their orphaned daughter had appeared in New York in
-charge of May Archer's sister-in-law, Mrs. Jack Welland,
-whose husband had been appointed the girl's
-guardian.  The fact threw her into almost cousinly
-relationship with Newland Archer's children, and nobody
-was surprised when Dallas's engagement was announced.
-
-Nothing could more dearly give the measure of the
-distance that the world had travelled.  People nowadays
-were too busy--busy with reforms and "movements,"
-with fads and fetishes and frivolities--to bother much
-about their neighbours.  And of what account was anybody's
-past, in the huge kaleidoscope where all the
-social atoms spun around on the same plane?
-
-Newland Archer, looking out of his hotel window at
-the stately gaiety of the Paris streets, felt his heart
-beating with the confusion and eagerness of youth.
-
-It was long since it had thus plunged and reared
-under his widening waistcoat, leaving him, the next
-minute, with an empty breast and hot temples.  He
-wondered if it was thus that his son's conducted itself
-in the presence of Miss Fanny Beaufort--and decided
-that it was not.  "It functions as actively, no doubt, but
-the rhythm is different," he reflected, recalling the cool
-composure with which the young man had announced
-his engagement, and taken for granted that his family
-would approve.
-
-"The difference is that these young people take it for
-granted that they're going to get whatever they want,
-and that we almost always took it for granted that we
-shouldn't.  Only, I wonder--the thing one's so certain
-of in advance: can it ever make one's heart beat as
-wildly?"
-
-It was the day after their arrival in Paris, and the
-spring sunshine held Archer in his open window, above
-the wide silvery prospect of the Place Vendome.  One
-of the things he had stipulated--almost the only one--
-when he had agreed to come abroad with Dallas, was
-that, in Paris, he shouldn't be made to go to one of the
-newfangled "palaces."
-
-"Oh, all right--of course," Dallas good-naturedly
-agreed.  "I'll take you to some jolly old-fashioned place--
-the Bristol say--" leaving his father speechless at hearing
-that the century-long home of kings and emperors
-was now spoken of as an old-fashioned inn, where one
-went for its quaint inconveniences and lingering local
-colour.
-
-Archer had pictured often enough, in the first impatient
-years, the scene of his return to Paris; then the
-personal vision had faded, and he had simply tried to
-see the city as the setting of Madame Olenska's life.
-Sitting alone at night in his library, after the household
-had gone to bed, he had evoked the radiant outbreak
-of spring down the avenues of horse-chestnuts, the flowers
-and statues in the public gardens, the whiff of lilacs
-from the flower-carts, the majestic roll of the river
-under the great bridges, and the life of art and study
-and pleasure that filled each mighty artery to bursting.
-Now the spectacle was before him in its glory, and as
-he looked out on it he felt shy, old-fashioned, inadequate:
-a mere grey speck of a man compared with the
-ruthless magnificent fellow he had dreamed of being. . . .
-
-Dallas's hand came down cheerily on his shoulder.
-"Hullo, father: this is something like, isn't it?"  They
-stood for a while looking out in silence, and then the
-young man continued:  "By the way, I've got a message
-for you: the Countess Olenska expects us both at half-
-past five."
-
-He said it lightly, carelessly, as he might have
-imparted any casual item of information, such as the hour
-at which their train was to leave for Florence the next
-evening.  Archer looked at him, and thought he saw in
-his gay young eyes a gleam of his great-grandmother
-Mingott's malice.
-
-"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Dallas pursued.  "Fanny made
-me swear to do three things while I was in Paris: get
-her the score of the last Debussy songs, go to the
-Grand-Guignol and see Madame Olenska.  You know
-she was awfully good to Fanny when Mr. Beaufort sent
-her over from Buenos Ayres to the Assomption.  Fanny
-hadn't any friends in Paris, and Madame Olenska used
-to be kind to her and trot her about on holidays.  I
-believe she was a great friend of the first Mrs. Beaufort's.
-And she's our cousin, of course.  So I rang her up
-this morning, before I went out, and told her you and I
-were here for two days and wanted to see her."
-
-Archer continued to stare at him.  "You told her I
-was here?"
-
-"Of course--why not?"  Dallas's eye brows went up
-whimsically.  Then, getting no answer, he slipped his
-arm through his father's with a confidential pressure.
-
-"I say, father: what was she like?"
-
-Archer felt his colour rise under his son's unabashed
-gaze.  "Come, own up: you and she were great pals,
-weren't you?  Wasn't she most awfully lovely?"
-
-"Lovely?  I don't know.  She was different."
-
-"Ah--there you have it!  That's what it always comes
-to, doesn't it?  When she comes, SHE'S DIFFERENT--and
-one doesn't know why.  It's exactly what I feel about
-Fanny."
-
-His father drew back a step, releasing his arm.  "About
-Fanny?  But, my dear fellow--I should hope so!  Only I
-don't see--"
-
-"Dash it, Dad, don't be prehistoric!  Wasn't she--
-once--your Fanny?"
-
-Dallas belonged body and soul to the new generation.
-He was the first-born of Newland and May Archer,
-yet it had never been possible to inculcate in him even
-the rudiments of reserve.  "What's the use of making
-mysteries?  It only makes people want to nose 'em out,"
-he always objected when enjoined to discretion.  But
-Archer, meeting his eyes, saw the filial light under their
-banter.
-
-"My Fanny?"
-
-"Well, the woman you'd have chucked everything
-for: only you didn't," continued his surprising son.
-
-"I didn't," echoed Archer with a kind of solemnity.
-
-"No: you date, you see, dear old boy.  But mother
-said--"
-
-"Your mother?"
-
-"Yes: the day before she died.  It was when she sent
-for me alone--you remember?  She said she knew we
-were safe with you, and always would be, because
-once, when she asked you to, you'd given up the thing
-you most wanted."
-
-Archer received this strange communication in silence.
-His eyes remained unseeingly fixed on the thronged
-sunlit square below the window.  At length he said in a
-low voice:  "She never asked me."
-
-"No.  I forgot.  You never did ask each other
-anything, did you?  And you never told each other
-anything.  You just sat and watched each other, and guessed
-at what was going on underneath.  A deaf-and-dumb
-asylum, in fact!  Well, I back your generation for knowing
-more about each other's private thoughts than we
-ever have time to find out about our own.--I say,
-Dad," Dallas broke off, "you're not angry with me?  If
-you are, let's make it up and go and lunch at Henri's.
-I've got to rush out to Versailles afterward."
-
-Archer did not accompany his son to Versailles.  He
-preferred to spend the afternoon in solitary roamings
-through Paris.  He had to deal all at once with the
-packed regrets and stifled memories of an inarticulate
-lifetime.
-
-After a little while he did not regret Dallas's
-indiscretion.  It seemed to take an iron band from his heart
-to know that, after all, some one had guessed and
-pitied. . . .  And that it should have been his wife moved
-him indescribably.  Dallas, for all his affectionate
-insight, would not have understood that.  To the boy, no
-doubt, the episode was only a pathetic instance of vain
-frustration, of wasted forces.  But was it really no more?
-For a long time Archer sat on a bench in the Champs
-Elysees and wondered, while the stream of life rolled
-by. . . .
-
-A few streets away, a few hours away, Ellen Olenska
-waited.  She had never gone back to her husband, and
-when he had died, some years before, she had made no
-change in her way of living.  There was nothing now to
-keep her and Archer apart--and that afternoon he was
-to see her.
-
-He got up and walked across the Place de la Concorde
-and the Tuileries gardens to the Louvre.  She had
-once told him that she often went there, and he had a
-fancy to spend the intervening time in a place where he
-could think of her as perhaps having lately been.  For
-an hour or more he wandered from gallery to gallery
-through the dazzle of afternoon light, and one by one
-the pictures burst on him in their half-forgotten splendour,
-filling his soul with the long echoes of beauty.
-After all, his life had been too starved. . . .
-
-Suddenly, before an effulgent Titian, he found himself
-saying:  "But I'm only fifty-seven--" and then he
-turned away.  For such summer dreams it was too late;
-but surely not for a quiet harvest of friendship, of
-comradeship, in the blessed hush of her nearness.
-
-He went back to the hotel, where he and Dallas were
-to meet; and together they walked again across the
-Place de la Concorde and over the bridge that leads to
-the Chamber of Deputies.
-
-Dallas, unconscious of what was going on in his
-father's mind, was talking excitedly and abundantly of
-Versailles.  He had had but one previous glimpse of it,
-during a holiday trip in which he had tried to pack all
-the sights he had been deprived of when he had had to
-go with the family to Switzerland; and tumultuous
-enthusiasm and cock-sure criticism tripped each other
-up on his lips.
-
-As Archer listened, his sense of inadequacy and
-inexpressiveness increased.  The boy was not insensitive,
-he knew; but he had the facility and self-confidence
-that came of looking at fate not as a master but as an
-equal.  "That's it: they feel equal to things--they know
-their way about," he mused, thinking of his son as the
-spokesman of the new generation which had swept
-away all the old landmarks, and with them the sign-
-posts and the danger-signal.
-
-Suddenly Dallas stopped short, grasping his father's
-arm.  "Oh, by Jove," he exclaimed.
-
-They had come out into the great tree-planted space
-before the Invalides.  The dome of Mansart floated
-ethereally above the budding trees and the long grey
-front of the building: drawing up into itself all the rays
-of afternoon light, it hung there like the visible symbol
-of the race's glory.
-
-Archer knew that Madame Olenska lived in a square
-near one of the avenues radiating from the Invalides;
-and he had pictured the quarter as quiet and almost
-obscure, forgetting the central splendour that lit it up.
-Now, by some queer process of association, that golden
-light became for him the pervading illumination in
-which she lived.  For nearly thirty years, her life--of
-which he knew so strangely little--had been spent in
-this rich atmosphere that he already felt to be too dense
-and yet too stimulating for his lungs.  He thought of the
-theatres she must have been to, the pictures she must
-have looked at, the sober and splendid old houses she
-must have frequented, the people she must have talked
-with, the incessant stir of ideas, curiosities, images and
-associations thrown out by an intensely social race in a
-setting of immemorial manners; and suddenly he
-remembered the young Frenchman who had once said to
-him:  "Ah, good conversation--there is nothing like it,
-is there?"
-
-Archer had not seen M. Riviere, or heard of him,
-for nearly thirty years; and that fact gave the measure
-of his ignorance of Madame Olenska's existence.  More
-than half a lifetime divided them, and she had spent the
-long interval among people he did not know, in a
-society he but faintly guessed at, in conditions he would
-never wholly understand.  During that time he had been
-living with his youthful memory of her; but she had
-doubtless had other and more tangible companionship.
-Perhaps she too had kept her memory of him as something
-apart; but if she had, it must have been like a
-relic in a small dim chapel, where there was not time to
-pray every day. . . .
-
-They had crossed the Place des Invalides, and were
-walking down one of the thoroughfares flanking the
-building.  It was a quiet quarter, after all, in spite of its
-splendour and its history; and the fact gave one an idea
-of the riches Paris had to draw on, since such scenes as
-this were left to the few and the indifferent.
-
-The day was fading into a soft sun-shot haze, pricked
-here and there by a yellow electric light, and passers
-were rare in the little square into which they had turned.
-Dallas stopped again, and looked up.
-
-"It must be here," he said, slipping his arm through
-his father's with a movement from which Archer's shyness
-did not shrink; and they stood together looking up
-at the house.
-
-It was a modern building, without distinctive character,
-but many-windowed, and pleasantly balconied up
-its wide cream-coloured front.  On one of the upper
-balconies, which hung well above the rounded tops of
-the horse-chestnuts in the square, the awnings were still
-lowered, as though the sun had just left it.
-
-"I wonder which floor--?" Dallas conjectured; and
-moving toward the porte-cochere he put his head into
-the porter's lodge, and came back to say:  "The fifth.  It
-must be the one with the awnings."
-
-Archer remained motionless, gazing at the upper windows
-as if the end of their pilgrimage had been attained.
-
-"I say, you know, it's nearly six," his son at length
-reminded him.
-
-The father glanced away at an empty bench under
-the trees.
-
-"I believe I'll sit there a moment," he said.
-
-"Why--aren't you well?" his son exclaimed.
-
-"Oh, perfectly.  But I should like you, please, to go
-up without me."
-
-Dallas paused before him, visibly bewildered.  "But, I
-say, Dad: do you mean you won't come up at all?"
-
-"I don't know," said Archer slowly.
-
-"If you don't she won't understand."
-
-"Go, my boy; perhaps I shall follow you."
-
-Dallas gave him a long look through the twilight.
-
-"But what on earth shall I say?"
-
-"My dear fellow, don't you always know what to
-say?" his father rejoined with a smile.
-
-"Very well.  I shall say you're old-fashioned, and
-prefer walking up the five flights because you don't like
-lifts."
-
-His father smiled again.  "Say I'm old-fashioned: that's
-enough."
-
-Dallas looked at him again, and then, with an
-incredulous gesture, passed out of sight under the vaulted
-doorway.
-
-Archer sat down on the bench and continued to gaze
-at the awninged balcony.  He calculated the time it
-would take his son to be carried up in the lift to the
-fifth floor, to ring the bell, and be admitted to the hall,
-and then ushered into the drawing-room.  He pictured
-Dallas entering that room with his quick assured step
-and his delightful smile, and wondered if the people
-were right who said that his boy "took after him."
-
-Then he tried to see the persons already in the
-room--for probably at that sociable hour there would
-be more than one--and among them a dark lady, pale
-and dark, who would look up quickly, half rise, and
-hold out a long thin hand with three rings on it. . . .  He
-thought she would be sitting in a sofa-corner near the
-fire, with azaleas banked behind her on a table.
-
-"It's more real to me here than if I went up," he
-suddenly heard himself say; and the fear lest that last
-shadow of reality should lose its edge kept him rooted
-to his seat as the minutes succeeded each other.
-
-He sat for a long time on the bench in the thickening
-dusk, his eyes never turning from the balcony.  At length
-a light shone through the windows, and a moment later
-a man-servant came out on the balcony, drew up the
-awnings, and closed the shutters.
-
-At that, as if it had been the signal he waited for,
-Newland Archer got up slowly and walked back alone
-to his hotel.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-A Note on the Text
-
-
-The Age of Innocence first appeared in four large
-installments in The Pictorial Review, from July to
-October 1920.  It was published that same year in book
-form by D. Appleton and Company in New York and in
-London.  Wharton made extensive stylistic, punctuation,
-and spelling changes and revisions between the serial
-and book publication, and more than thirty subsequent
-changes were made after the second impression of the
-book edition had been run off.  This authoritative text
-is reprinted from the Library of America edition of
-Novels by Edith Wharton, and is based on the sixth
-impression of the first edition, which incorporates the
-last set of extensive revisions that are obviously authorial.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Age of Innocence by Wharton
-
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