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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
,
was
n'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
did
n't
know
Countesses
were
so
neighbourly
.
Mingotts
ai
n'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
does
n'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
is
n'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
wo
n't
be
in
my
time
.
But
you
're
free
and
you
're
well-off
.
Why
do
n'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
could
n'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
do
n't
want
us
.
"
"
Who
's
'
they
'
?
Why
do
n'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
could
n'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
did
n't
object
to
her
visitors
'
suddenly
changing
their
minds
,
and
that
there
was
always
a
room
to
spare
in
her
elastic
house
.
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
.
