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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
.
"
Did
n'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
could
n'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
should
n'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
--
did
n'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
,
do
n'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
do
n'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
do
n't
believe
so
.
She
did
n't
tell
us
what
was
in
the
telegram
.
I
think
she
did
n't
want
the
Marchioness
to
know
She
's
so
romantic-looking
,
is
n't
she
?
Does
n'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
do
n'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
.
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
is
n'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
had
n'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
do
n'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
should
n'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
wo
n't
be
anybody
on
the
boat
.
My
train
does
n't
leave
till
evening
:
I
'm
going
back
to
New
York
.
Why
should
n't
we
?
"
he
insisted
,
looking
down
at
her
;
and
suddenly
he
broke
out
:
"
Have
n'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
must
n't
say
things
like
that
to
me
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
'll
say
anything
you
like
;
or
nothing
.
I
wo
n'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
,
do
n'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
need
n't
be
afraid
--
if
I
do
n'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
did
n't
you
come
down
to
the
beach
to
fetch
me
,
the
day
I
was
at
Granny
's
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Because
you
did
n't
look
round
--
because
you
did
n't
know
I
was
there
.
I
swore
I
would
n't
unless
you
looked
round
.
"
He
laughed
as
the
childishness
of
the
confession
struck
him
.
"
But
I
did
n't
look
round
on
purpose
.
