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He
had
done
little
in
public
life
;
he
would
always
be
by
nature
a
contemplative
and
a
dilettante
;
but
he
had
had
high
things
to
contemplate
,
great
things
to
delight
in
;
and
one
great
man
's
friendship
to
be
his
strength
and
pride.He
had
been
,
in
short
,
what
people
were
beginning
to
call
"
a
good
citizen
.
"
In
New
York
,
for
many
years
past
,
every
new
movement
,
philanthropic
,
municipal
or
artistic
,
had
taken
account
of
his
opinion
and
wanted
his
name
.
People
said
:
"
Ask
Archer
"
when
there
was
a
question
of
starting
the
first
school
for
crippled
children
,
reorganising
the
Museum
of
Art
,
founding
the
Grolier
Club
,
inaugurating
the
new
Library
,
or
getting
up
a
new
society
of
chamber
music
.
His
days
were
full
,
and
they
were
filled
decently
.
He
supposed
it
was
all
a
man
ought
to
ask.Something
he
knew
he
had
missed
:
the
flower
of
life
.
But
he
thought
of
it
now
as
a
thing
so
unattainable
and
improbable
that
to
have
repined
would
have
been
like
despairing
because
one
had
not
drawn
the
first
prize
in
a
lottery
.
There
were
a
hundred
million
tickets
in
HIS
lottery
,
and
there
was
only
one
prize
;
the
chances
had
been
too
decidedly
against
him
.
When
he
thought
of
Ellen
Olenska
it
was
abstractly
,
serenely
,
as
one
might
think
of
some
imaginary
beloved
in
a
book
or
a
picture
:
she
had
become
the
composite
vision
of
all
that
he
had
missed
.
That
vision
,
faint
and
tenuous
as
it
was
,
had
kept
him
from
thinking
of
other
women
.
He
had
been
what
was
called
a
faithful
husband
;
and
when
May
had
suddenly
died
--
carried
off
by
the
infectious
pneumonia
through
which
she
had
nursed
their
youngest
child
--
he
had
honestly
mourned
her
.
Their
long
years
together
had
shown
him
that
it
did
not
so
much
matter
if
marriage
was
a
dull
duty
,
as
long
as
it
kept
the
dignity
of
a
duty
:
lapsing
from
that
,
it
became
a
mere
battle
of
ugly
appetites
.
Looking
about
him
,
he
honoured
his
own
past
,
and
mourned
for
it
.
After
all
,
there
was
good
in
the
old
ways.His
eyes
,
making
the
round
of
the
room
--
done
over
by
Dallas
with
English
mezzotints
,
Chippendale
cabinets
,
bits
of
chosen
blue-and-white
and
pleasantly
shaded
electric
lamps
--
came
back
to
the
old
Eastlake
writing-table
that
he
had
never
been
willing
to
banish
,
and
to
his
first
photograph
of
May
,
which
still
kept
its
place
beside
his
inkstand.There
she
was
,
tall
,
round-bosomed
and
willowy
,
in
her
starched
muslin
and
flapping
Leghorn
,
as
he
had
seen
her
under
the
orange-trees
in
the
Mission
garden
.
And
as
he
had
seen
her
that
day
,
so
she
had
remained
;
never
quite
at
the
same
height
,
yet
never
far
below
it
:
generous
,
faithful
,
unwearied
;
but
so
lacking
in
imagination
,
so
incapable
of
growth
,
that
the
world
of
her
youth
had
fallen
into
pieces
and
rebuilt
itself
without
her
ever
being
conscious
of
the
change
.
This
hard
bright
blindness
had
kept
her
immediate
horizon
apparently
unaltered
.
Her
incapacity
to
recognise
change
made
her
children
conceal
their
views
from
her
as
Archer
concealed
his
;
there
had
been
,
from
the
first
,
a
joint
pretence
of
sameness
,
a
kind
of
innocent
family
hypocrisy
,
in
which
father
and
children
had
unconsciously
collaborated
.
And
she
had
died
thinking
the
world
a
good
place
,
full
of
loving
and
harmonious
households
like
her
own
,
and
resigned
to
leave
it
because
she
was
convinced
that
,
whatever
happened
,
Newland
would
continue
to
inculcate
in
Dallas
the
same
principles
and
prejudices
which
had
shaped
his
parents
'
lives
,
and
that
Dallas
in
turn
(
when
Newland
followed
her
)
would
transmit
the
sacred
trust
to
little
Bill
.
And
of
Mary
she
was
sure
as
of
her
own
self
.
So
,
having
snatched
little
Bill
from
the
grave
,
and
given
her
life
in
the
effort
,
she
went
contentedly
to
her
place
in
the
Archer
vault
in
St.
Mark
's
,
where
Mrs.
Archer
already
lay
safe
from
the
terrifying
"
trend
"
which
her
daughter-in-law
had
never
even
become
aware
of.Opposite
May
's
portrait
stood
one
of
her
daughter
.
Mary
Chivers
was
as
tall
and
fair
as
her
mother
,
but
large-waisted
,
flat-chested
and
slightly
slouching
,
as
the
altered
fashion
required
.
Mary
Chivers
's
mighty
feats
of
athleticism
could
not
have
been
performed
with
the
twenty-inch
waist
that
May
Archer
's
azure
sash
so
easily
spanned
.
And
the
difference
seemed
symbolic
;
the
mother
's
life
had
been
as
closely
girt
as
her
figure
.
Mary
,
who
was
no
less
conventional
,
and
no
more
intelligent
,
yet
led
a
larger
life
and
held
more
tolerant
views
.
There
was
good
in
the
new
order
too.The
telephone
clicked
,
and
Archer
,
turning
from
the
photographs
,
unhooked
the
transmitter
at
his
elbow
.
How
far
they
were
from
the
days
when
the
legs
of
the
brass-buttoned
messenger
boy
had
been
New
York
's
only
means
of
quick
communication
!
"
Chicago
wants
you
.
"
Ah
--
it
must
be
a
long-distance
from
Dallas
,
who
had
been
sent
to
Chicago
by
his
firm
to
talk
over
the
plan
of
the
Lakeside
palace
they
were
to
build
for
a
young
millionaire
with
ideas
.
The
firm
always
sent
Dallas
on
such
errands
.
"
Hallo
,
Dad
--
Yes
:
Dallas
.
I
say
--
how
do
you
feel
about
sailing
on
Wednesday
?
Mauretania
:
Yes
,
next
Wednesday
as
ever
is
.
Our
client
wants
me
to
look
at
some
Italian
gardens
before
we
settle
anything
,
and
has
asked
me
to
nip
over
on
the
next
boat
.
I
've
got
to
be
back
on
the
first
of
June
--
"
the
voice
broke
into
a
joyful
conscious
laugh
--
"
so
we
must
look
alive
.
I
say
,
Dad
,
I
want
your
help
:
do
come
.
"
Dallas
seemed
to
be
speaking
in
the
room
:
the
voice
was
as
near
by
and
natural
as
if
he
had
been
lounging
in
his
favourite
arm-chair
by
the
fire
.
The
fact
would
not
ordinarily
have
surprised
Archer
,
for
long-distance
telephoning
had
become
as
much
a
matter
of
course
as
electric
lighting
and
five-day
Atlantic
voyages
.
But
the
laugh
did
startle
him
;
it
still
seemed
wonderful
that
across
all
those
miles
and
miles
of
country
--
forest
,
river
,
mountain
,
prairie
,
roaring
cities
and
busy
indifferent
millions
--
Dallas
's
laugh
should
be
able
to
say
:
"
Of
course
,
whatever
happens
,
I
must
get
back
on
the
first
,
because
Fanny
Beaufort
and
I
are
to
be
married
on
the
fifth
.
"
The
voice
began
again
:
"
Think
it
over
?
No
,
sir
:
not
a
minute
.
You
've
got
to
say
yes
now
.
Why
not
,
I
'd
like
to
know
?
If
you
can
allege
a
single
reason
--
No
;
I
knew
it
.
Then
it
's
a
go
,
eh
?
Because
I
count
on
you
to
ring
up
the
Cunard
office
first
thing
tomorrow
;
and
you
'd
better
book
a
return
on
a
boat
from
Marseilles
.
I
say
,
Dad
;
it
'll
be
our
last
time
together
,
in
this
kind
of
way
--
.
Oh
,
good
!
I
knew
you
would
.
"
Chicago
rang
off
,
and
Archer
rose
and
began
to
pace
up
and
down
the
room.It
would
be
their
last
time
together
in
this
kind
of
way
:
the
boy
was
right
.
They
would
have
lots
of
other
"
times
"
after
Dallas
's
marriage
,
his
father
was
sure
;
for
the
two
were
born
comrades
,
and
Fanny
Beaufort
,
whatever
one
might
think
of
her
,
did
not
seem
likely
to
interfere
with
their
intimacy
.
On
the
contrary
,
from
what
he
had
seen
of
her
,
he
thought
she
would
be
naturally
included
in
it
.
Still
,
change
was
change
,
and
differences
were
differences
,
and
much
as
he
felt
himself
drawn
toward
his
future
daughter-in-law
,
it
was
tempting
to
seize
this
last
chance
of
being
alone
with
his
boy.There
was
no
reason
why
he
should
not
seize
it
,
except
the
profound
one
that
he
had
lost
the
habit
of
travel
.
May
had
disliked
to
move
except
for
valid
reasons
,
such
as
taking
the
children
to
the
sea
or
in
the
mountains
:
she
could
imagine
no
other
motive
for
leaving
the
house
in
Thirty-ninth
Street
or
their
comfortable
quarters
at
the
Wellands
'
in
Newport
.
After
Dallas
had
taken
his
degree
she
had
thought
it
her
duty
to
travel
for
six
months
;
and
the
whole
family
had
made
the
old-fashioned
tour
through
England
,
Switzerland
and
Italy
.
Their
time
being
limited
(
no
one
knew
why
)
they
had
omitted
France
.
Archer
remembered
Dallas
's
wrath
at
being
asked
to
contemplate
Mont
Blanc
instead
of
Rheims
and
Chartres
.
But
Mary
and
Bill
wanted
mountain-climbing
,
and
had
already
yawned
their
way
in
Dallas
's
wake
through
the
English
cathedrals
;
and
May
,
always
fair
to
her
children
,
had
insisted
on
holding
the
balance
evenly
between
their
athletic
and
artistic
proclivities
.
She
had
indeed
proposed
that
her
husband
should
go
to
Paris
for
a
fortnight
,
and
join
them
on
the
Italian
lakes
after
they
had
"
done
"
Switzerland
;
but
Archer
had
declined
.
"
We
'll
stick
together
,
"
he
said
;
and
May
's
face
had
brightened
at
his
setting
such
a
good
example
to
Dallas.Since
her
death
,
nearly
two
years
before
,
there
had
been
no
reason
for
his
continuing
in
the
same
routine
.
His
children
had
urged
him
to
travel
:
Mary
Chivers
had
felt
sure
it
would
do
him
good
to
go
abroad
and
"
see
the
galleries
.
"
The
very
mysteriousness
of
such
a
cure
made
her
the
more
confident
of
its
efficacy
.
But
Archer
had
found
himself
held
fast
by
habit
,
by
memories
,
by
a
sudden
startled
shrinking
from
new
things.Now
,
as
he
reviewed
his
past
,
he
saw
into
what
a
deep
rut
he
had
sunk
.
The
worst
of
doing
one
's
duty
was
that
it
apparently
unfitted
one
for
doing
anything
else
.
At
least
that
was
the
view
that
the
men
of
his
generation
had
taken
.
The
trenchant
divisions
between
right
and
wrong
,
honest
and
dishonest
,
respectable
and
the
reverse
,
had
left
so
little
scope
for
the
unforeseen
.
There
are
moments
when
a
man
's
imagination
,
so
easily
subdued
to
what
it
lives
in
,
suddenly
rises
above
its
daily
level
,
and
surveys
the
long
windings
of
destiny
.
Archer
hung
there
and
wondered
...
What
was
left
of
the
little
world
he
had
grown
up
in
,
and
whose
standards
had
bent
and
bound
him
?
He
remembered
a
sneering
prophecy
of
poor
Lawrence
Lefferts
's
,
uttered
years
ago
in
that
very
room
:
"
If
things
go
on
at
this
rate
,
our
children
will
be
marrying
Beaufort
's
bastards
.
"
It
was
just
what
Archer
's
eldest
son
,
the
pride
of
his
life
,
was
doing
;
and
nobody
wondered
or
reproved
.
Even
the
boy
's
Aunt
Janey
,
who
still
looked
so
exactly
as
she
used
to
in
her
elderly
youth
,
had
taken
her
mother
's
emeralds
and
seed-pearls
out
of
their
pink
cotton-wool
,
and
carried
them
with
her
own
twitching
hands
to
the
future
bride
;
and
Fanny
Beaufort
,
instead
of
looking
disappointed
at
not
receiving
a
"
set
"
from
a
Paris
jeweller
,
had
exclaimed
at
their
old-fashioned
beauty
,
and
declared
that
when
she
wore
them
she
should
feel
like
an
Isabey
miniature.Fanny
Beaufort
,
who
had
appeared
in
New
York
at
eighteen
,
after
the
death
of
her
parents
,
had
won
its
heart
much
as
Madame
Olenska
had
won
it
thirty
years
earlier
;
only
instead
of
being
distrustful
and
afraid
of
her
,
society
took
her
joyfully
for
granted
.
She
was
pretty
,
amusing
and
accomplished
:
what
more
did
any
one
want
?
Nobody
was
narrow-minded
enough
to
rake
up
against
her
the
half-forgotten
facts
of
her
father
's
past
and
her
own
origin
.
Only
the
older
people
remembered
so
obscure
an
incident
in
the
business
life
of
New
York
as
Beaufort
's
failure
,
or
the
fact
that
after
his
wife
's
death
he
had
been
quietly
married
to
the
notorious
Fanny
Ring
,
and
had
left
the
country
with
his
new
wife
,
and
a
little
girl
who
inherited
her
beauty
.
He
was
subsequently
heard
of
in
Constantinople
,
then
in
Russia
;
and
a
dozen
years
later
American
travellers
were
handsomely
entertained
by
him
in
Buenos
Ayres
,
where
he
represented
a
large
insurance
agency
.
He
and
his
wife
died
there
in
the
odour
of
prosperity
;
and
one
day
their
orphaned
daughter
had
appeared
in
New
York
in
charge
of
May
Archer
's
sister-in-law
,
Mrs.
Jack
Welland
,
whose
husband
had
been
appointed
the
girl
's
guardian
.
The
fact
threw
her
into
almost
cousinly
relationship
with
Newland
Archer
's
children
,
and
nobody
was
surprised
when
Dallas
's
engagement
was
announced.Nothing
could
more
dearly
give
the
measure
of
the
distance
that
the
world
had
travelled
.
People
nowadays
were
too
busy
--
busy
with
reforms
and
"
movements
,
"
with
fads
and
fetishes
and
frivolities
--
to
bother
much
about
their
neighbours
.
And
of
what
account
was
anybody
's
past
,
in
the
huge
kaleidoscope
where
all
the
social
atoms
spun
around
on
the
same
plane?Newland
Archer
,
looking
out
of
his
hotel
window
at
the
stately
gaiety
of
the
Paris
streets
,
felt
his
heart
beating
with
the
confusion
and
eagerness
of
youth.It
was
long
since
it
had
thus
plunged
and
reared
under
his
widening
waistcoat
,
leaving
him
,
the
next
minute
,
with
an
empty
breast
and
hot
temples
.
He
wondered
if
it
was
thus
that
his
son
's
conducted
itself
in
the
presence
of
Miss
Fanny
Beaufort
--
and
decided
that
it
was
not
.
"
It
functions
as
actively
,
no
doubt
,
but
the
rhythm
is
different
,
"
he
reflected
,
recalling
the
cool
composure
with
which
the
young
man
had
announced
his
engagement
,
and
taken
for
granted
that
his
family
would
approve
.
"
The
difference
is
that
these
young
people
take
it
for
granted
that
they
're
going
to
get
whatever
they
want
,
and
that
we
almost
always
took
it
for
granted
that
we
should
n't
.
Only
,
I
wonder
--
the
thing
one
's
so
certain
of
in
advance
:
can
it
ever
make
one
's
heart
beat
as
wildly
?
"
It
was
the
day
after
their
arrival
in
Paris
,
and
the
spring
sunshine
held
Archer
in
his
open
window
,
above
the
wide
silvery
prospect
of
the
Place
Vendome
.
One
of
the
things
he
had
stipulated
--
almost
the
only
one
--
when
he
had
agreed
to
come
abroad
with
Dallas
,
was
that
,
in
Paris
,
he
should
n't
be
made
to
go
to
one
of
the
newfangled
"
palaces
.
"
"
Oh
,
all
right
--
of
course
,
"
Dallas
good-naturedly
agreed
.
"
I
'll
take
you
to
some
jolly
old-fashioned
place
--
the
Bristol
say
--
"
leaving
his
father
speechless
at
hearing
that
the
century-long
home
of
kings
and
emperors
was
now
spoken
of
as
an
old-fashioned
inn
,
where
one
went
for
its
quaint
inconveniences
and
lingering
local
colour.Archer
had
pictured
often
enough
,
in
the
first
impatient
years
,
the
scene
of
his
return
to
Paris
;
then
the
personal
vision
had
faded
,
and
he
had
simply
tried
to
see
the
city
as
the
setting
of
Madame
Olenska
's
life
.
Sitting
alone
at
night
in
his
library
,
after
the
household
had
gone
to
bed
,
he
had
evoked
the
radiant
outbreak
of
spring
down
the
avenues
of
horse-chestnuts
,
the
flowers
and
statues
in
the
public
gardens
,
the
whiff
of
lilacs
from
the
flower-carts
,
the
majestic
roll
of
the
river
under
the
great
bridges
,
and
the
life
of
art
and
study
and
pleasure
that
filled
each
mighty
artery
to
bursting
.
Now
the
spectacle
was
before
him
in
its
glory
,
and
as
he
looked
out
on
it
he
felt
shy
,
old-fashioned
,
inadequate
:
a
mere
grey
speck
of
a
man
compared
with
the
ruthless
magnificent
fellow
he
had
dreamed
of
being
...
Dallas
's
hand
came
down
cheerily
on
his
shoulder
.
"
Hullo
,
father
:
this
is
something
like
,
is
n't
it
?
"
They
stood
for
a
while
looking
out
in
silence
,
and
then
the
young
man
continued
:
"
By
the
way
,
I
've
got
a
message
for
you
:
the
Countess
Olenska
expects
us
both
at
half-past
five
.
"
He
said
it
lightly
,
carelessly
,
as
he
might
have
imparted
any
casual
item
of
information
,
such
as
the
hour
at
which
their
train
was
to
leave
for
Florence
the
next
evening
.
Archer
looked
at
him
,
and
thought
he
saw
in
his
gay
young
eyes
a
gleam
of
his
great-grandmother
Mingott
's
malice
.
"
Oh
,
did
n't
I
tell
you
?
"
Dallas
pursued
.
"
Fanny
made
me
swear
to
do
three
things
while
I
was
in
Paris
:
get
her
the
score
of
the
last
Debussy
songs
,
go
to
the
Grand-Guignol
and
see
Madame
Olenska
.
You
know
she
was
awfully
good
to
Fanny
when
Mr.
Beaufort
sent
her
over
from
Buenos
Ayres
to
the
Assomption
.
Fanny
had
n't
any
friends
in
Paris
,
and
Madame
Olenska
used
to
be
kind
to
her
and
trot
her
about
on
holidays
.
I
believe
she
was
a
great
friend
of
the
first
Mrs.
Beaufort
's
.
And
she
's
our
cousin
,
of
course
.
So
I
rang
her
up
this
morning
,
before
I
went
out
,
and
told
her
you
and
I
were
here
for
two
days
and
wanted
to
see
her
.
"
Archer
continued
to
stare
at
him
.
"
You
told
her
I
was
here
?
"
"
Of
course
--
why
not
?
"
Dallas
's
eye
brows
went
up
whimsically
.
Then
,
getting
no
answer
,
he
slipped
his
arm
through
his
father
's
with
a
confidential
pressure
.
