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The Age of Innocence, Page 7

Edith Wharton


  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 derLuyden was always silent, and that, though non-committal by nature andtraining, she was very kind to the people she really liked. Evenpersonal experience of these facts was not always a protection from thechill that descended on one in the high-ceilinged white-walled MadisonAvenue drawing-room, with the pale brocaded armchairs so obviouslyuncovered for the occasion, and the gauze still veiling the ormolumantel 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 andVenetian point) faced that of her lovely ancestress. It was generallyconsidered "as fine as a Cabanel," and, though twenty years had elapsedsince its execution, was still "a perfect likeness." Indeed the Mrs.van der Luyden who sat beneath it listening to Mrs. Archer might havebeen the twin-sister of the fair and still youngish woman droopingagainst a gilt armchair before a green rep curtain. Mrs. van derLuyden still wore black velvet and Venetian point when she went intosociety--or rather (since she never dined out) when she threw open herown doors to receive it. Her fair hair, which had faded withoutturning grey, was still parted in flat overlapping points on herforehead, and the straight nose that divided her pale blue eyes wasonly a little more pinched about the nostrils than when the portraithad been painted. She always, indeed, struck Newland Archer as havingbeen rather gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of aperfectly irreproachable existence, as bodies caught in glaciers keepfor years a rosy life-in-death.

  Like all his family, he esteemed and admired Mrs. van der Luyden; buthe found her gentle bending sweetness less approachable than thegrimness 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 alwaysappeared to incline to clemency till her thin lips, wavering into theshadow of a smile, made the almost invariable reply: "I shall firsthave to talk this over with my husband."

  She and Mr. van der Luyden were so exactly alike that Archer oftenwondered how, after forty years of the closest conjugality, two suchmerged identities ever separated themselves enough for anything ascontroversial as a talking-over. But as neither had ever reached adecision without prefacing it by this mysterious conclave, Mrs. Archerand her son, having set forth their case, waited resignedly for thefamiliar phrase.

  Mrs. van der Luyden, however, who had seldom surprised any one, nowsurprised them by reaching her long hand toward the bell-rope.

  "I think," she said, "I should like Henry to hear what you have toldme."

  A footman appeared, to whom she gravely added: "If Mr. van der Luydenhas finished reading the newspaper, please ask him to be kind enough tocome."

  She said "reading the newspaper" in the tone in which a Minister's wifemight have said: "Presiding at a Cabinet meeting"--not from anyarrogance of mind, but because the habit of a life-time, and theattitude of her friends and relations, had led her to consider Mr. vander Luyden's least gesture as having an almost sacerdotal importance.

  Her promptness of action showed that she considered the case aspressing as Mrs. Archer; but, lest she should be thought to havecommitted herself in advance, she added, with the sweetest look:"Henry always enjoys seeing you, dear Adeline; and he will wish tocongratulate Newland."

  The double doors had solemnly reopened and between them appeared Mr.Henry van der Luyden, tall, spare and frock-coated, with faded fairhair, a straight nose like his wife's and the same look of frozengentleness 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 samelanguage as his wife's, and seated himself in one of the brocadearmchairs with the simplicity of a reigning sovereign.

  "I had just finished reading the Times," he said, laying his longfinger-tips together. "In town my mornings are so much occupied that Ifind it more convenient to read the newspapers after luncheon."

  "Ah, there's a great deal to be said for that plan--indeed I think myuncle Egmont used to say he found it less agitating not to read themorning papers till after dinner," said Mrs. Archer responsively.

  "Yes: my good father abhorred hurry. But now we live in a constantrush," said Mr. van der Luyden in measured tones, looking with pleasantdeliberation about the large shrouded room which to Archer was socomplete 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; andproceeded to rehearse once more the monstrous tale of the affrontinflicted on Mrs. Lovell Mingott.

  "Of course," she ended, "Augusta Welland and Mary Mingott both feltthat, especially in view of Newland's engagement, you and Henry OUGHTTO KNOW."

  "Ah--" said Mr. van der Luyden, drawing a deep breath.

  There was a silence during which the tick of the monumental ormoluclock on the white marble mantelpiece grew as loud as the boom of aminute-gun. Archer contemplated with awe the two slender fadedfigures, seated side by side in a kind of viceregal rigidity,mouthpieces of some remote ancestral authority which fate compelledthem to wield, when they would so much rather have lived in simplicityand seclusion, digging invisible weeds out of the perfect lawns ofSkuytercliff, 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 ofLawrence Lefferts's?" he enquired, turning to Archer.

  "I'm certain of it, sir. Larry has been going it rather harder thanusual lately--if cousin Louisa won't mind my mentioning it--havingrather a stiff affair with the postmaster's wife in their village, orsome one of that sort; and whenever poor Gertrude Lefferts begins tosuspect anything, and he's afraid of trouble, he gets up a fuss of thiskind, to show how awfully moral he is, and talks at the top of hisvoice about the impertinence of inviting his wife to meet people hedoesn't wish her to know. He's simply using Madame Olenska as alightning-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 havesaid 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 Luydenfirmly.

  "Ah, if only you and Louisa went out more!" sighed Mrs. Archer.

  But instantly she became aware of her mistake. The van der Luydenswere morbidly sensitive to any criticism of their secluded existence.They were the arbiters of fashion, the Court of last Appeal, and theyknew it, and bowed to their fate. But being shy and retiring persons,with no natural inclination for their part, they lived as much aspossible in the sylvan solitude of Skuytercliff, and when they came totown, declined all invitations on the plea of Mrs. van der Luyden'shealth.

  Newland Archer came to his mother's rescue. "Everybody in New Yorkknows what you and cousin Louisa represent. That's why Mrs. Mingottfelt she ought not to allow this slight on Countess Olenska to passwithout 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. "Aslong as a member of a well-known family is backed up by that family itshould be considered--final."

  "It seems so to me," said his wife, as if she were producing a newthought.

  "I had no idea," Mr. van der Luyden continued, "that things had come tosuch a pass." He paused, and looked at his wife again. "It occurs tome, my dear, that the Countess Olenska is already a sort ofrelation--through Medora Manson's first husband. At any rate, she willbe when Newla
nd marries." He turned toward the young man. "Have youread this morning's Times, Newland?"

  "Why, yes, sir," said Archer, who usually tossed off half a dozenpapers with his morning coffee.

  Husband and wife looked at each other again. Their pale eyes clungtogether in prolonged and serious consultation; then a faint smilefluttered over Mrs. van der Luyden's face. She had evidently guessedand approved.

  Mr. van der Luyden turned to Mrs. Archer. "If Louisa's health allowedher to dine out--I wish you would say to Mrs. Lovell Mingott--she and Iwould have been happy to--er--fill the places of the LawrenceLeffertses at her dinner." He paused to let the irony of this sink in."As you know, this is impossible." Mrs. Archer sounded a sympatheticassent. "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 hisnew sloop, the Guinevere, in next summer's International Cup Race; andalso to have a little canvasback shooting at Trevenna." Mr. van derLuyden paused again, and continued with increasing benevolence:"Before taking him down to Maryland we are inviting a few friends tomeet him here--only a little dinner--with a reception afterward. I amsure Louisa will be as glad as I am if Countess Olenska will let usinclude her among our guests." He got up, bent his long body with astiff friendliness toward his cousin, and added: "I think I haveLouisa's authority for saying that she will herself leave theinvitation to dine when she drives out presently: with our cards--ofcourse with our cards."

  Mrs. Archer, who knew this to be a hint that the seventeen-handchestnuts which were never kept waiting were at the door, rose with ahurried murmur of thanks. Mrs. van der Luyden beamed on her with thesmile of Esther interceding with Ahasuerus; but her husband raised aprotesting 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 longas I can help it," he pronounced with sovereign gentleness as hesteered his cousins to the door.

  Two hours later, every one knew that the great C-spring barouche inwhich Mrs. van der Luyden took the air at all seasons had been seen atold Mrs. Mingott's door, where a large square envelope was handed in;and that evening at the Opera Mr. Sillerton Jackson was able to statethat the envelope contained a card inviting the Countess Olenska to thedinner which the van der Luydens were giving the following week fortheir cousin, the Duke of St. Austrey.

  Some of the younger men in the club box exchanged a smile at thisannouncement, and glanced sideways at Lawrence Lefferts, who satcarelessly in the front of the box, pulling his long fair moustache,and who remarked with authority, as the soprano paused: "No one butPatti ought to attempt the Sonnambula."