Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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.
正像阿切尔太太笑盈盈地对韦兰太太说的，对一对小夫妻来说，举办第一次大型晚宴可是件了不起的大事。
纽兰•阿切尔夫妇成家以来，非正式地接待过不少客人。阿切尔喜欢邀上三五个朋友一起用餐，梅则效法母亲在处理夫妻事务中为她树立的榜样，满脸笑容地招待来客。倘若只剩下她一个人，是否也会请人来做客呢——她丈夫表示怀疑；不过他早已放弃了从传统与教养把她塑造的模式中剥离出她的真实自我的打算。一对住在纽约的富家年轻夫妇理应有大量的非正式招待活动，一位姓韦兰的嫁给一位姓阿切尔的之后，恪守这一传统就更是义不容辞了。
然而大型晚宴可就另当别论了，要办一次谈何容易！它需要雇一位厨师，借两名男仆，要有罗马潘趣酒，亨德森花店的玫瑰，还有印在金边卡片上的菜单。正如阿切尔太太说的，有了罗马潘趣酒，情况就大不一样了；倒不在于酒本身，而在于它多重的含义——它意味着要上灰背野鸭或者甲鱼，两道汤，一冷一热两道甜食，短袖露肩衫，以及有相当身份的客人。
一对年轻夫妇用第三人称发出他们的第一批请柬，总是件十分有趣的事；他们的邀请就连那些老手和热门人物也很少拒绝。尽管如此，范德卢顿夫妇能应梅的要求留下来，出席她为奥兰斯卡伯爵夫人举办的告别宴会，仍然被公认为是一大胜利。
在这个不同寻常的下午，身为婆母与岳母的两位太太坐在梅的客厅里，阿切尔太太在最厚的金边卡片纸上写着菜单，韦兰太太则指挥着摆放棕榈树与落地灯。
阿切尔很晚才从事务所回来，到家时发现她们还在这儿。阿切尔太太已经把注意力转向餐桌上的人名卡，而韦兰太太正在斟酌把镀金大沙发弄到前边的效果，这样可以在钢琴和窗于中间又留出一个“角落。”
他们告诉他，梅正在餐厅里检查长餐桌中间的那一堆杰克明诺玫瑰和铁线蕨，以及放在校形烛台间的那几个盛糖果的楼刻银盘子。钢琴上面放着一大篮子范德卢顿先生让人从斯库特克利夫送来的兰花。总之，在如此重大事件来临之际，一切都已按照常规准备就绪。
阿切尔太太若有所思地看着客人名单，用她那支尖头金笔在每个名字上打着勾。
“亨利•范德卢顿——路易莎——洛弗尔•明戈特夫妇——里吉•奇弗斯夫妇——劳伦斯•莱弗茨和格特鲁德（不错，我想梅请他们是对的）——塞尔弗里奇•梅里一家，西勒顿•杰克逊，范纽兰和他妻子（纽兰，时间过得真快呀，他给你做演相仿佛还是昨天的事）——还有奥兰斯卡伯爵夫人——对，我想就这些了……”
韦兰太太亲切地上下打量了她的女婿一番说：“纽兰，人人都会说你和梅是多么慷慨地为埃伦送行的。”
“哦——嗯，”阿切尔太太说，“我认为梅是想让她的表姊告诉外国人，我们并非那么不开化。”
“我敢肯定埃伦会十分感激。我想她今天上午就该到了。宴会将留下美好的最后印象。启程远航前的头天晚上通常都是很枯燥乏味的，”韦兰太太兴冲冲地接着说。
阿切尔朝门口转过身去，岳母喊他说：“过去瞧瞧餐桌吧，别让梅太劳累了。”但他假装没有听见，跃上楼梯，去了图书室。图书室就像一张陌生面孔装出一副彬彬有礼的鬼脸，他发现它被冷酷地“整顿”过，布置过了，明智地分放了烟灰缸和松木匣子，以备绅士们在里面吸烟。
“啊——嗯，”他心想，“反正不用很久——”他接着又到梳妆室去了。
奥兰斯卡夫人离开纽约已经10天了。这10天当中，阿切尔没有得到她一点音讯，只有还给他的一把包着绵纸的钥匙，是封在信封内送到他办公室去的，信封上的地址是她的手迹。对他最后请求的这种答复本来可以看作一场普通游戏的典型步骤，但年轻人却偏偏赋予它另外的含义：她仍然在作反抗命运的挣扎，她仅仅是要到欧洲去，而不是回她丈夫身边。因此，没有什么事情会阻碍他去追随她。一旦他采取了无可挽回的步骤，并向她证明已无可挽回，他相信她不会撵他走。
对未来的这一信念支持着他扮演当前的角色，使他坚持不给她写信，也不流露任何痛苦或悔恨的迹象。他觉得在他们两人之间这场极为隐秘的游戏中，胜券仍然握在他手中；于是他等待着。
然而这段时间确实也有十分难过的时刻，比如在奥兰斯卡夫人走后的第二天，莱特布赖先生派人找他来审查一下曼森•明戈特想为孙女开设信托财产的细节问题。阿切尔花了两个小时与上司一起审查事项的条款，在此期间他却隐隐感到，这件事找他商量，显然不全是由于他的表亲关系等，讨论结束时就会真相大白。
“唔，这位夫人无法否认，这是个相当不错的解决办法，”莱特布赖对着那份协议概要嗫嚅一阵后总结说。“实际上，我不得不说，从各方面来看，对待她还是相当宽宏大量的。”
“从各方面说？”阿切尔带着一丝嘲笑的口吻重复道。“你指的是她丈夫提议把她自己的钱归还给她吗！”
莱特布赖那浓密的眉毛挑起了一点点。“先生，法律就是法律，你妻子的表姊结婚是受法国法律约束的。她应该明白那是什么意思。”
“即使她明白，后来发生的事——”阿切尔住了口。莱特布赖已经将笔杆抵到皱起的大鼻子上，并且顺着笔杆将目光垂下，脸上那副表情俨然如德高望重的老绅士想要告诫他们的儿子：德行并非无知。
“先生，我井不想减轻伯爵的过失；但——另一方面，我也不愿自找麻烦……唔，对那个年轻人……事情也还没到针锋相对的地步……”莱特布赖打开一个抽屉，朝阿切尔推过一份折叠的文件。后来，由于阿切尔没有尝试看那文件，也无意驳斥他的意见，律师先生才有点无精打采地接着说：“你瞧，我并不是说这就是最后的结局了；事情还远没有结束。但见微知著……总体而言，这一体面的解决方法，对方方面面都是非常圆满的了。”
“是啊，非常圆满，”阿切尔赞同地说，同时把文件推了回去。
过了一两天，应曼森•明戈特的召唤，他的灵魂经历了一次更加深刻的考验。
他发现老夫人意气消沉，牢骚满腹。
“你知道她把我抛弃了？”她立即便开了口，而且没等他回话，又接着说道：“唉，别问我为什么！她说了那么多理由，结果我全都忘了。我私下认为是她忍受不了无聊。不管怎样，反正奥古斯塔和我儿媳是这样想的，我不认为事情全都怪她。奥兰斯基是个绝顶的混蛋，不过跟他一起生活一定会比在第五大街快活得多。家里人可不承认这一点，他们认为第五大街就是太太平平的天堂。可怜的埃伦当然不打算回丈夫那儿去，她一如既往地反对那样做。所以她准备跟梅多拉那个傻瓜在巴黎定居……唉，巴黎就是巴黎，在那里，哪怕你没有几个钱，也能弄一辆马车。可她像只小鸟一样快活，我会想念她的。”两滴眼泪——老年人于涩的眼泪——顺着她肥胖的面颊滚落下来，消失在她那无边无际的胸膛上。
“我只求一件事，”她最后说，“他们别再来打扰我。确确实实该让我一边享清闲了……”她有点恋恋不舍地对阿切尔眨眨眼睛。
就是这天晚上，他回家后，梅说出她想为表姊举办告别宴会的打算。自从奥兰斯卡夫人逃往华盛顿的那一夜起，她的名字一直没人提过。阿切尔惊讶地看着妻子。
“举办宴会——为什么？”他问道。
她脸上泛起了红润。“可你喜欢埃伦呀——我以为你会高兴呢。”
“你这样说真是太好了。不过我确实不明白——”
“宴会我是一定要办的，纽兰。”她说完便平静地站了起来，走到她的书桌前。“这些请柬全都写好了，是母亲帮我写的——她也认为我们应该办。”她打住话头，有点儿尴尬却面带笑容。阿切尔顿时认识到，他的面前是“家族”的化身。
“噢，那好吧，”他说，一面用视而不见的目光看着她递到手中的客人名单。
宴会前他走进客厅时，梅正俯身在火炉上，小心翼翼地摆弄那些木柴，设法让它们在不习惯的干净瓷砖里面烧旺。
高高的落地灯全都点亮了，范德卢顿先生的兰花配置在各式各样的新瓷盆与漂亮的银制容器里，十分引人注目。大家普遍认为，纽兰•阿切尔太太的客厅布置得极为成功。一个镀金的竹制花架挡在通向吊窗的过道上（此处老眼光的人会认为摆一尊米罗的维纳斯青铜雕像更佳），花架上的报春花与瓜叶菊及时更新了。浅色锦缎的沙发与扶手椅巧妙地聚拢在几张漂亮的小台子周围，台子上密密麻麻摆满银制玩具、瓷制小动物，以及花穗镶边的像框。罩着玫瑰形灯伞的高灯耸立其间，宛如棕榈丛中的热带花卉。
“我想埃伦从来没见过这屋子点上灯的情景，”梅说。她停止了操劳，红着脸抬起头来，用可以理解的自豪的目光打量着四周。她支在烟筒一侧的铜火钳咣啷一声倒了下来，淹没了丈夫的回话声，他还没来得及重新支好，就听见通报范德卢顿先生与太太到了。
其他客人紧接着也到了，因为大家都知道范德卢顿夫妇喜欢准时就餐。屋子里的人眼看就要满了，阿切尔正忙着给塞尔弗里奇•梅里太太看一幅维白克霍文的“绵羊习作”——那是韦兰先生以前送给梅的圣诞礼物——这时他突然发现奥兰斯卡夫人来到他身边。
她脸色格外苍白，这使她的黑发显得特别浓密。也许——或者实际上——是因为她脖子上绕了几串琥珀珠子，使他突然想起了他曾经在孩子们的晚会上与之跳舞的那个小埃伦•明戈特，那时是梅多拉•曼森第一次把她带到纽约。
也许是琥珀珠子与她的肤色格格不入，要么就是她衣服不太匹配：她的脸上显得毫无光泽，甚至可以说很难看，但他却从来没有像此刻这样爱这张脸。他们的手相遇了，他觉得仿佛听见她说：“是啊，明天我们就要乘俄罗斯号起航——”接着他又听见几次毫无意义的开门的声音，过了一会儿，只听梅的声音说：“纽兰！宴会已宣布开始了，你不带埃伦进去吗？”
奥兰斯卡夫人把手搭在他的前臂上，他注意到这只手没戴手套，并想起那天晚上同她一起坐在23街那间小客厅里的情景，当时他两只眼睛一直盯着这只手。她脸上的美似乎都躲到搭在他衣袖上的纤纤玉指及带小圆窝的指关节上了。他心里自语道：“即使仅仅为了再看到她的手，我也必须跟随——”
只有在以招待“外宾”的名义举办的宴会上，范德卢顿太太才会屈尊坐在主人的左侧。奥兰斯卡夫人的“外籍”身份被这个告别仪式强调得恰到好处，范德卢顿太太接受换位的态度十分和蔼，使人对她的认同无可置疑。有些非办不可的事，一旦要做，索性就大大方方，痛快淋漓。按纽约的老规矩，围绕一位行将被除名的女眷的家族集会，便属于这样一件事。既然奥兰斯卡伯爵夫人去欧洲的航程已定，为了显示对她坚定不移的爱心，韦兰家与明戈特家的人上天揽月都在所不辞。阿切尔坐在餐桌首席，惊异地观看着这一默默进行的不屈不挠的活动：由于家庭的这种支持，她的名声得以恢复，对她的怨愤得以平息，她的过去得到默认，她的现在变得光辉灿烂。范德卢顿太太对她隐约露出善意——这在她是最接近热诚的表示了。范德卢顿先生则从梅右首的座位上顺着餐桌频频投来目光，显然是想证明他从斯库特克利夫送来那些康乃馨合情合理。
阿切尔在这个场合显得像个无足轻重的助手。他仿佛正在校形吊灯与天花板之间的一个地方漂浮，惟独不知自己在这些活动中有什么作用。他的目光从一张张营养充足的平静的脸上掠过，他觉得，所有那些全神贯注在梅做的灰背烤鸭上。看似并无恶意的人，是一伙不声不响的阴谋分子，而他与坐在他右首的那位苍白的女子则是他们阴谋的主要目标。这时候，许多隐约零星的眼神连成一片，使他忽然想到，在所有这些人的心目中，他与奥兰斯卡夫人是一对情人，是按“外国”语汇中那种极端意义的情人。他想到，几个月来他一直是无数眼睛悄悄观察、无数耳朵耐心倾听的中心人物。他知道，借助于他尚不清楚的手段，他们终于想出了办法，把他和他的犯罪同伙拆开。现在，整个家族都聚集在他妻子周围，心照不宣地假装啥事也不知，或者啥事也没想过，而这次招待活动仅仅出于梅•阿切尔正常的心愿，亲切地为她的朋友兼表姊送别。
这是纽约“杀人不见血”的老办法；这办法属于那些害怕丑闻甚于疾病的人，那些置体面于勇气之上的人，那些认为除了肇事者本身的行为以外，“出事”是最没教养的表现的人。
这些思绪接踵浮上他的心头，阿切尔感觉自己像个囚犯，被包围在一伙武装分子中间。他打量餐桌四周，从交谈的语气推测到，追捕他的人个个铁面无私，他们正一面吃着佛罗里达的龙须菜，一面谈论博福特和他妻子的问题。“这是做给我看的，”他心想，“我将是什么下场——”一种死到临头的感觉向他袭来：暗示与影射比直截了当的行动更恶毒，沉默比激烈的言辞更凶狠——它们就像家族地下灵堂里一道道的门向他合拢过来。
他放声笑了起来，他的目光遇到了范德卢顿太太投来的惊异目光。
“你认为挺可笑吧？”她脸上一副苦笑说。“可怜的里吉纳想留在纽约，我想这主意当然有它荒唐的一面。”阿切尔喃喃地说：“当然。”
这时候，他意识到奥兰斯卡夫人另一位邻座与他右边这位夫人交谈已经有了一段时间。同时他也见到端坐于范德卢顿先生与塞尔弗里奇•梅里先生中间的梅，顺着餐桌迅速使了个眼色。很显然，他这位主人与他右边的夫人总不能一顿饭下来一直保持沉默，互不交谈。他转向奥兰斯卡夫人，她以淡然的笑容迎着他，似乎在说：“哦，我们坚持到底吧。”
“你觉得旅行很累吧？”他问。他的声音十分自然，让他自己都吃了一惊。她回答说恰好相反，她在旅行中很少感到有什么不适。
“只是火车上太热，你知道，”她又说。他则说，到了她行将奔赴的那个国家，她就不会再受那份罪了。
“有一年4月，”他加强了语气说，“我在加莱至巴黎的火车上，有好几次差点儿给冻僵。”
她说这并不奇怪；但又说毕竟还是有办法的，可以多带上一块围毯嘛；她还说，每一种旅行方式都有自身的困难。对此，他冷不了地回答说，他认为，与远走高飞的幸福相比，这一切都算不了什么。她脸色大变，他突然又提高嗓门说：“我打算不久以后一个人进行漫长的旅行。”她脸上一阵震颤。他朝里吉•奇弗斯探过身去大声道：“我说里吉，去漫游世界你看怎么样——我是说现在，下个月就走？你敢我就敢——”听到这里，里吉太太尖声说，不过了马撒•华盛顿的舞会，她决不会放里吉走。那个舞会是她准备在复活节那一周为盲人院安排的活动。她丈夫则温和地说，到那时他就得为准备国际马球赛进行训练了。
然而塞尔弗里奇•梅里却抓住了“漫游世界”这句话，因为他曾经乘自己的汽艇环行地球一周，于是抓住机会给餐桌周围的人提供了几条有关地中海沿岸那些港口水深太浅的惊人见闻。他补充道，可说到底，这事倒无足轻重；因为，你若是见过了雅典、士麦那和康斯坦丁堡，其他还有什么地方值得一游呢？梅里太太说，她太感激本克姆医生了，是他让他们俩答应不去那不勒斯的，因为那儿有热病。
“可你必须花三周时间才能游遍印度，”他丈夫让步说，他急于让大家明白，他决不是个轻浮的环球旅行家。
就在这时，女士们起身到客厅去了。
在图书室里，劳伦斯•莱弗茨无视几位要人的在场而占据了支配地位。
像平时那样，话题又转回到博福特夫妇身上。就连范德卢顿先生和塞尔弗里奇•梅里先生也坐在大家心照不宣地为他们留出的体面扶手椅里，等着听这位年轻人的猛烈抨击。
莱弗茨从来没有像现在这样充满美化高尚人格。歌颂家庭神圣的感情，义愤使他谈锋犀利。显然，假如别人都效法他的榜样，以他的话为行为指南，那么，上流社会决不会软弱到去接纳一个像博福特这样的外籍暴发户——不会的，老兄，即使他娶的不是达拉斯家的人，而是范德卢顿家或拉宁家的，那也不会的。莱弗茨愤怒地质问道，假如博福特不是早已慢慢钻进了某些家庭——莱姆尔•斯特拉瑟斯太太之流就是紧步他的后尘——他怎么能有机会与达拉斯这样的家庭联姻呢？假如上流社会主动向平民女子敞开大门，是否有益虽然值得怀疑，但危害还不是太大；而一旦开始容忍出身微贱、钱财肮脏的男人，那么，其结局必然是彻底的崩溃——而且为期不会很远。
“假如事态照这种速度发展，”莱弗茨咆哮着，那神态好像是普耳装扮的年轻预言家，只是还没有变成石头。“那么，我们就会看到我们的下一代争抢诈骗犯的请柬，跟博福特家的杂种结亲。”
“咳，我说——不要太过火嘛！”里吉•奇弗斯和小纽兰抗议说。这时，塞尔弗里奇•梅里先生更是大惊失色，痛苦与厌恶的表情也浮现在范德卢顿先生那张敏感的脸上。
“他有杂种吗？”西勒顿•杰克逊喊道，接着竖起耳朵等着回答。莱弗茨想以笑声回避这个问题，老绅士对着阿切尔的耳朵喊喳说：“那些老想拨乱反正的人真奇怪。家里面有个最糟糕的厨师的人，总爱说外出就餐中了毒。可我听说我们的朋友劳伦斯的这顿臭骂是事出有因的：这一次是打字员，据我所知……”
这些谈话从阿切尔耳边掠过，就像没有知觉的河水不停地流啊流，而且不知道何时才该停。他从周围一张张脸上看到了好奇、好玩甚至快乐的表情。他听着年轻人的笑声，听着范德卢顿先生和梅里先生对阿切尔家的马德拉葡萄酒独到的赞誉。透过这一切，阿切尔膝陇感觉到他们对他都很友好，仿佛看管他这个自认的囚犯的那些警卫，正试图软化他们的俘虏，这种感觉更加坚定了他获得自由的强烈愿望。
他们随后到客厅加入了女士们的行列。在那儿，他遇到了梅得意洋洋的目光，并从中看到一切“进展”顺利的信心。她从奥兰斯卡夫人身边站了起来，后者接着就被范德卢顿太太招呼到她就座的镀金沙发旁的座位上去。塞尔弗里奇•梅里太太穿过客厅，凑到她俩身边。阿切尔明白了，原来这边也在进行一场忘却与恢复名誉的阴谋，那个把他周围的小圈子聚拢在一起的隐密的组织，决心要表明从未对奥兰斯卡夫人的行为及阿切尔家庭的幸福有过片刻怀疑。所有这些和蔼可亲、坚定不移的人们都毅然决然地相互欺骗，假装从来没听说过、没怀疑过甚至没想到过会有一丁点儿与此相反的事。就从这一套合谋作假的表演中，阿切尔又一次看出全纽约都相信他是奥兰斯卡的情人的事实。他窥见了妻子眼中胜利的光芒，第一次认识到她也持有这种看法。这一发现从他内心深处引发了一阵邪恶的笑声；在他费劲地与里吉•奇弗斯太太及小纽兰太太谈论马撒•华盛顿舞会的整个过程中，这笑声一直在他胸中回响。夜晚的时光就这样匆匆行进，就像没有知觉的河水，流啊流，不知如何驻足。
终于，他见到奥兰斯卡夫人站了起来，向人们道别。他明白，再过一会儿，她就要走了；他努力回想在宴席上同她说过的话，可一句也记不起了。
她朝梅的身边走去。她一面走，其余的人绕着她围了个圆圈。两位年轻女子手握在了一起，接着梅低头吻了吻她的表姊。
“她们二人，当然是我们的女主人漂亮多了。”阿切尔听见里吉•奇弗斯小声对小纽兰太太说，他想起了博福特曾粗鲁地嘲笑梅的美不够动人。
过了一会儿，他到了门厅里，把奥兰斯卡夫人的外套技在她的肩上。
尽管他思绪紊乱，却始终抱定决心，不说任何可能惊扰她的话。他坚信没有任何力量能改变他的决心，因而有足够的勇气任凭事态自然发展。但跟随奥兰斯卡夫人走到门厅时，他却突然渴望在她的马车门前与她单独呆一会儿。
“你的马车在这儿吗？”他问。这时，正在庄重地穿貂皮大衣的范德卢顿太太却温柔地说：“我们送亲爱的埃伦回家。”
阿切尔心里一怔，奥兰斯卡夫人一手抓住外套和扇子，向他伸出另一只手。“再见吧，”她说。
“再见——不过很快我就会到巴黎去看你，”他大声回答说——他觉得自己是喊出来的。
“哦，”她嗫嚅道，“如果你和梅能来——”
范德卢顿先生上前把胳膊伸给她，阿切尔转向范德卢顿太太。一瞬之间，在大马车里面的一片昏暗中，他瞥见她那张朦胧的椭圆形的脸，那双炯炯有神的眼睛——她走了。
他踏上门阶时看见劳伦斯•莱弗茨正与妻子往下走。莱弗茨拉住他的衣袖，后退一步让格特鲁德过去。
“我说老伙计：明天我在俱乐部与你共进晚餐，你不反对吧？多谢多谢，你这老好人！晚安。”
“宴会确实进行得很顺利，对吗？”梅从图书室的门口问道。
阿切尔猛地醒过神来。最后一辆马车刚刚驶走，他便来到图书室，把自己关在里面，心中盼望还在下面拖延的妻子会直接回她的房间去。然而现在她却站在这儿，面色苍白，脸有些扭歪，但却焕发着劳累过度者虚假的活力。
“我进来聊聊好吗？”她问。
“当然啦，如果你高兴。不过你一定很胭了——”
“不，我不困。我愿跟你坐一小会儿。”
“好吧，”他说着，把她的椅子推到火炉前。
她坐下来，他回到他的座位上。但好大一会儿谁也没有说话。最后，还是阿切尔突然开了口。“既然你不累，又想谈一谈，那么，有件事我必须告诉你。那天晚上我本想——”
她迅速瞥了他一眼。“是啊，亲爱的，一件关于你自己的事？”
“是关于我自己的。你说你不累。唔，我可是非常地累……”
转瞬之间，她变得忧心忡忡。“唉，我早就知道会这样的，纽兰！你一直劳累过度——”
“也许是吧。不管怎样，我想停止——”
“停止？不干法律了？”
“我想走开，不管怎样——马上就走，远走高飞——丢开一切——”
他停住口，意识到自己失败了——他本想以一个渴望变化、而又因为筋疲力尽不想让变化立即来临的人那种冷漠的口气谈这件事的。但是，不管他做什么事，那根渴望的心弦总是在强烈地振动。“丢开一切——”他重复说。
“远走高飞？到什么地方——譬如说？”她问道。
“哦，不知道。印度——或者日本。”
她站了起来。他低着头坐在那儿，双手托着下巴，感觉到她的温暖与芳香徘徊在他的上方。
“要走那么远吗？不过，亲爱的，恐怕你不能走……”她声音有点颤抖地说。“除非你带着我。”因为他没有作声，她又接着说下去，语调十分清晰、平缓，每一个音节都像小锤子一样敲着他的脑袋。“就是说，如果医生让我去的话……不过恐怕他们不会同意的。因为，你瞧，纽兰，从今天上午起，我已经肯定了一件我一直在盼望期待的事——”
他抬起头，心烦意乱地盯着她。她蹲下身子，泪流满面，把脸贴在他的膝上。
“噢，亲爱的，”他说着把她拉到身边，一面用一只冰冷的手抚摸她的头发。
一阵长时间的停顿。这时，内心深处的邪恶又发出刺耳的狂笑。后来，梅挣脱他的怀抱站了起来。
“你没有猜到——？”
“不——我——对。我是说，我当然曾希望——”
他俩对视了片刻，又陷入沉默。后来，他将目光从她脸上移开，冷不丁问道：“你告诉过别人吗？”
“只有妈妈和你母亲。”她停顿一下，又慌忙补充，额头泛起了一片红润。“就是——还有埃伦。你知道，我曾对你说，有一天下午我们进行了一次长谈——她对我真好。”
“啊——”阿切尔说，他的心几乎停止了跳动。
他感觉到妻子在目不转睛地注视着他。“纽兰，我先告诉了她，你介意吗？”
“介意？我干吗会介意？”他做出最后的努力镇定下来。“不过那是两周前的事了，对吧？我还以为你说是今天才肯定下来的呢。”
她的脸红得更厉害了，但却顶住了他的凝视。“对，当时我是没有把握——但我告诉她我有了。你瞧我是说对了！”她大声地说，那双蓝眼睛充满了胜利的泪水。