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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
wo
n'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
wo
n'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
do
n'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
...
"
"
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
,
do
n'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
would
n'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
ca
n't
tell
.
She
told
me
she
had
had
a
's
piritual
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
do
n'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
do
n'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
should
n't
be
married
then
.
"
"
And
May
adores
you
--
and
yet
you
could
n'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
do
n'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
ca
n'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
is
n't
she
in
a
hurry
too
?
"
"
Because
she
's
not
like
that
:
she
's
so
much
nobler
.
