Easy English ↔ Source English

Chapter 6

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01

Easy English

That evening Mr. Jackson went home. The ladies went up to their bedroom, with its flowered cotton at the windows. Newland Archer climbed to his own study, deep in thought.
As always, a careful hand kept the fire alive and the lamp bright. The room held rows and rows of books and photographs of famous paintings. Above the fire stood "The Fencers," two small metal sword-fighters. It looked warm and welcoming, like home.

Source English

That evening, after Mr. Jackson had taken himself away, and the ladies had retired to their chintz-curtained bedroom, Newland Archer mounted thoughtfully to his own study. A vigilant hand had, as usual, kept the fire alive and the lamp trimmed; and the room, with its rows and rows of books, its bronze and steel statuettes of "The Fencers" on the mantelpiece and its many photographs of famous pictures, looked singularly home-like and welcoming.
02

Easy English

He dropped into his armchair. His eyes rested on a large photograph of May Welland, her gift from the first days of their love. Now it stood in place of every other picture.
With new wonder, close to fear, he looked at her open forehead, serious eyes, and happy, innocent mouth. An innocent girl knew nothing of life's dark side. He was to be the keeper of this young soul.
May was the frightening product of the social system he belonged to and believed in. Here was the young girl who knew nothing and expected everything. Through May Welland's familiar face, she looked back at him like a stranger.
Once more he saw the truth. People taught him marriage was a safe resting place. It was a journey on unknown seas.

Source English

As he dropped into his armchair near the fire his eyes rested on a large photograph of May Welland, which the young girl had given him in the first days of their romance, and which had now displaced all the other portraits on the table. With a new sense of awe he looked at the frank forehead, serious eyes and gay innocent mouth of the young creature whose soul's custodian he was to be. That terrifying product of the social system he belonged to and believed in, the young girl who knew nothing and expected everything, looked back at him like a stranger through May Welland's familiar features; and once more it was borne in on him that marriage was not the safe anchorage he had been taught to think, but a voyage on uncharted seas.
03

Easy English

The case of the Countess Olenska stirred his old, settled beliefs. It set them drifting dangerously through his mind. His own words came back to him. "Women should be free — as free as we are." They struck at the root of a problem his world agreed to call unreal.
"Nice" women, even when men wronged them, would never claim the kind of freedom he meant. So generous men like himself could offer it all the more warmly, in words. Such warm words were only a false cover. Under them lay the hard old rules that held people to the old pattern.
But now his own words bound him to defend the Countess, his future wife's cousin. Yet suppose his own wife did the same. Then he would call down on her all the thunder of Church and State.
Of course the question was not real. He was no worthless Polish count. So it was foolish to ask what his wife's rights would be if he were one.
But Newland Archer had too much imagination to stop there. The tie between him and May might rub and hurt for far quieter reasons.
What could he and May really know of each other? His duty, as a "decent" man, was to hide his past from her. Hers, as a girl ready for marriage, was to have no past at all.
What if, some day, they grew tired of each other? What if they misunderstood each other, or made each other angry?
He went over his friends' marriages, the ones people called happy. Not one came near his hope of a life-long, passionate, and tender friendship with May. Such a friendship needed a woman with experience, a quick free mind, and her own judgment. And May's world trained her with care to have none of these things.
A cold fear ran through him. He saw his marriage becoming like the marriages around him — a dull tie of money and social interests. It would hold together because the wife knew nothing and the husband pretended.
Lawrence Lefferts, he thought, lived this ideal most fully. Lefferts was the high priest of "form." A high priest serves a god, and "form" was the god Lefferts served. He shaped his wife so fully to his own comfort that she saw nothing.
Even at the most public moments of his love-affairs with other men's wives, she went about smiling. "Lawrence is so terribly correct," she would tell people.
At any mention of Julius Beaufort her face turned red with anger, and she looked away. For Beaufort, a "foreigner" of doubtful family, kept a second, secret home, with another woman in it.

Source English

The case of the Countess Olenska had stirred up old settled convictions and set them drifting dangerously through his mind. His own exclamation: "Women should be free--as free as we are," struck to the root of a problem that it was agreed in his world to regard as non-existent. "Nice" women, however wronged, would never claim the kind of freedom he meant, and generous-minded men like himself were therefore--in the heat of argument--the more chivalrously ready to concede it to them. Such verbal generosities were in fact only a humbugging disguise of the inexorable conventions that tied things together and bound people down to the old pattern. But here he was pledged to defend, on the part of his betrothed's cousin, conduct that, on his own wife's part, would justify him in calling down on her all the thunders of Church and State. Of course the dilemma was purely hypothetical; since he wasn't a blackguard Polish nobleman, it was absurd to speculate what his wife's rights would be if he were. But Newland Archer was too imaginative not to feel that, in his case and May's, the tie might gall for reasons far less gross and palpable. What could he and she really know of each other, since it was his duty, as a "decent" fellow, to conceal his past from her, and hers, as a marriageable girl, to have no past to conceal? What if, for some one of the subtler reasons that would tell with both of them, they should tire of each other, misunderstand or irritate each other? He reviewed his friends' marriages--the supposedly happy ones--and saw none that answered, even remotely, to the passionate and tender comradeship which he pictured as his permanent relation with May Welland. He perceived that such a picture presupposed, on her part, the experience, the versatility, the freedom of judgment, which she had been carefully trained not to possess; and with a shiver of foreboding he saw his marriage becoming what most of the other marriages about him were: a dull association of material and social interests held together by ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other. Lawrence Lefferts occurred to him as the husband who had most completely realised this enviable ideal. As became the high-priest of form, he had formed a wife so completely to his own convenience that, in the most conspicuous moments of his frequent love-affairs with other men's wives, she went about in smiling unconsciousness, saying that "Lawrence was so frightfully strict"; and had been known to blush indignantly, and avert her gaze, when some one alluded in her presence to the fact that Julius Beaufort (as became a "foreigner" of doubtful origin) had what was known in New York as "another establishment."
04

Easy English

Archer comforted himself. He was not such a fool as Larry Lefferts. And May was no such simple soul as poor Gertrude. But the difference was one of brains, not of rules.
In truth they all lived in a hieroglyphic world — a world of signs, like old picture-writing. There no one ever said the real thing, or did it, or even thought it. Everything was shown by agreed signs.
Mrs. Welland knew exactly why Archer pressed her, at the Beaufort ball, to announce her daughter's engagement. She even expected it of him. Yet she felt she must pretend to be unwilling, as if her hand was forced.
People of high culture were then reading books about early man. Her act came straight from those books. In them, the wild man drags his new wife, screaming, from her parents' tent.

Source English

Archer tried to console himself with the thought that he was not quite such an ass as Larry Lefferts, nor May such a simpleton as poor Gertrude; but the difference was after all one of intelligence and not of standards. In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs; as when Mrs. Welland, who knew exactly why Archer had pressed her to announce her daughter's engagement at the Beaufort ball (and had indeed expected him to do no less), yet felt obliged to simulate reluctance, and the air of having had her hand forced, quite as, in the books on Primitive Man that people of advanced culture were beginning to read, the savage bride is dragged with shrieks from her parents' tent.
05

Easy English

So May stood at the center of this system of hiding. Her very openness and sureness made her harder to read, not easier.
She was open, poor darling, because she had nothing to hide. She was sure because she knew of nothing to guard against. With no better training than this, she would fall overnight into what people carefully called "the facts of life."

Source English

The result, of course, was that the young girl who was the centre of this elaborate system of mystification remained the more inscrutable for her very frankness and assurance. She was frank, poor darling, because she had nothing to conceal, assured because she knew of nothing to be on her guard against; and with no better preparation than this, she was to be plunged overnight into what people evasively called "the facts of life."
06

Easy English

The young man was truly, but calmly, in love. He delighted in May's bright good looks, her health, her fine riding, and her quick, easy way at games. He loved her shy new interest in books and ideas, which grew under his teaching.
She was far enough along to laugh with him at a famous poem, the Idylls of the King. But she could not yet feel the beauty of Ulysses or the Lotus Eaters.
She was honest, true, and brave. She had a sense of humor — the chief proof was that she laughed at his jokes. Deep in her innocent, watching soul he suspected a warm feeling. To wake it would be a joy.
But the list was short, and he came to the end of it discouraged. All this openness and innocence, he thought, was only a product, made by careful hands.
Human nature, when no one trains it, is not open and innocent. It is full of twists and tricks, and it defends itself without thinking.
This false purity pressed on him. Mothers, aunts, grandmothers, and long-dead grandmothers worked in secret to make it. The world said it was what he wanted, and his by right. His right was the proud pleasure of breaking it himself, like an image made of snow.

Source English

The young man was sincerely but placidly in love. He delighted in the radiant good looks of his betrothed, in her health, her horsemanship, her grace and quickness at games, and the shy interest in books and ideas that she was beginning to develop under his guidance. (She had advanced far enough to join him in ridiculing the Idyls of the King, but not to feel the beauty of Ulysses and the Lotus Eaters.) She was straightforward, loyal and brave; she had a sense of humour (chiefly proved by her laughing at his jokes); and he suspected, in the depths of her innocently-gazing soul, a glow of feeling that it would be a joy to waken. But when he had gone the brief round of her he returned discouraged by the thought that all this frankness and innocence were only an artificial product. Untrained human nature was not frank and innocent; it was full of the twists and defences of an instinctive guile. And he felt himself oppressed by this creation of factitious purity, so cunningly manufactured by a conspiracy of mothers and aunts and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses, because it was supposed to be what he wanted, what he had a right to, in order that he might exercise his lordly pleasure in smashing it like an image made of snow.
07

Easy English

There was nothing new in these thoughts. Young men often think them as their wedding day comes near. But such thoughts usually come with shame and self-blame. Newland Archer felt no trace of either.
The heroes in Thackeray's novels often cry out in sorrow. They cannot offer the girl they marry a clean blank page for the spotless one she gives. Those heroes always made Archer a little angry. He could not feel sorry in that way.
But one fact stood firm. If both of them were raised as May was, they would be helpless. They would be as lost as the Babes in the Wood, the two children of an old story.
After all his worried thought, he found no honest reason for the difference. Why should his bride not have the same freedom of experience as himself? The only true reasons were his own passing pleasure, and the passion of male vanity.

Source English

There was a certain triteness in these reflections: they were those habitual to young men on the approach of their wedding day. But they were generally accompanied by a sense of compunction and self-abasement of which Newland Archer felt no trace. He could not deplore (as Thackeray's heroes so often exasperated him by doing) that he had not a blank page to offer his bride in exchange for the unblemished one she was to give to him. He could not get away from the fact that if he had been brought up as she had they would have been no more fit to find their way about than the Babes in the Wood; nor could he, for all his anxious cogitations, see any honest reason (any, that is, unconnected with his own momentary pleasure, and the passion of masculine vanity) why his bride should not have been allowed the same freedom of experience as himself.
08

Easy English

Questions like these were natural at such an hour. But he knew why they pressed so hard and stayed so clear. The Countess Olenska came at exactly the wrong moment.
Here he was, newly engaged, at a time meant for pure thoughts and cloudless hopes. Instead he stood in the middle of a scandal — loud public talk about shameful things. It raised all the questions he most wanted to leave sleeping.
"Hang Ellen Olenska!" he said in a low, angry voice. He covered his fire and began to undress.
He could not see how her fate touched his at all. Yet he dimly felt he had only begun to measure the risks of his stand as the Countess's defender. That duty came with his promise to May.

Source English

Such questions, at such an hour, were bound to drift through his mind; but he was conscious that their uncomfortable persistence and precision were due to the inopportune arrival of the Countess Olenska. Here he was, at the very moment of his betrothal--a moment for pure thoughts and cloudless hopes--pitchforked into a coil of scandal which raised all the special problems he would have preferred to let lie. "Hang Ellen Olenska!" he grumbled, as he covered his fire and began to undress. He could not really see why her fate should have the least bearing on his; yet he dimly felt that he had only just begun to measure the risks of the championship which his engagement had forced upon him.
09

Easy English

A few days later, the blow fell.

Source English

A few days later the bolt fell.
10

Easy English

The Lovell Mingotts sent out cards for what New York called "a formal dinner." That meant three extra footmen, two dishes for each course, and a Roman punch in the middle. A Roman punch was an iced drink for grand dinners.
At the head of the cards they printed "To meet the Countess Olenska." It followed the warm American custom that treats strangers like kings and queens, or at least their messengers.
The list of guests showed boldness and fine judgment. People who knew the family saw a firm hand in it. It was the hand of "Catherine the Great" — old Mrs. Manson Mingott.

Source English

The Lovell Mingotts had sent out cards for what was known as "a formal dinner" (that is, three extra footmen, two dishes for each course, and a Roman punch in the middle), and had headed their invitations with the words "To meet the Countess Olenska," in accordance with the hospitable American fashion, which treats strangers as if they were royalties, or at least as their ambassadors.
11

Easy English

New York asked the Selfridge Merrys everywhere, out of old habit. The Beauforts could claim family ties. And there were Mr. Sillerton Jackson and his sister Sophy, who went wherever her brother told her.
Then came the flower of the fashionable young married set, all with the cleanest of names. There were the Lawrence Leffertses, and Mrs. Lefferts Rushworth, the lovely lady whose husband was dead. There were the Harry Thorleys and the Reggie Chiverses. And there was young Morris Dagonet with his wife, a van der Luyden.
The choice was perfect, for all belonged to the small inner circle of New York. Through the long season it played together day and night, and never seemed to tire.

Source English

The guests had been selected with a boldness and discrimination in which the initiated recognised the firm hand of Catherine the Great. Associated with such immemorial standbys as the Selfridge Merrys, who were asked everywhere because they always had been, the Beauforts, on whom there was a claim of relationship, and Mr. Sillerton Jackson and his sister Sophy (who went wherever her brother told her to), were some of the most fashionable and yet most irreproachable of the dominant "young married" set; the Lawrence Leffertses, Mrs. Lefferts Rushworth (the lovely widow), the Harry Thorleys, the Reggie Chiverses and young Morris Dagonet and his wife (who was a van der Luyden). The company indeed was perfectly assorted, since all the members belonged to the little inner group of people who, during the long New York season, disported themselves together daily and nightly with apparently undiminished zest.
12

Easy English

Forty-eight hours later, the unbelievable happened. Everyone said no to the Mingotts — everyone except the Beauforts, old Mr. Jackson, and his sister.
The refusal was meant to hurt. Two things made that plain. Even the Reggie Chiverses, who belonged to the Mingott family, said no.
And every note used the same words. The writers "regretted that they were unable to accept." Not one gave the polite excuse of an earlier promise. Good manners asked for at least that much.

Source English

Forty-eight hours later the unbelievable had happened; every one had refused the Mingotts' invitation except the Beauforts and old Mr. Jackson and his sister. The intended slight was emphasised by the fact that even the Reggie Chiverses, who were of the Mingott clan, were among those inflicting it; and by the uniform wording of the notes, in all of which the writers "regretted that they were unable to accept," without the mitigating plea of a "previous engagement" that ordinary courtesy prescribed.
13

Easy English

New York society in those days was small, with few pleasures. Even the carriage men, the house servants, and the cooks knew which evenings people were free. So the Mingotts' guests could make their message cruelly clear. They would not meet the Countess Olenska.

Source English

New York society was, in those days, far too small, and too scant in its resources, for every one in it (including livery-stable-keepers, butlers and cooks) not to know exactly on which evenings people were free; and it was thus possible for the recipients of Mrs. Lovell Mingott's invitations to make cruelly clear their determination not to meet the Countess Olenska.
14

Easy English

The blow was unexpected. But the Mingotts, in their family way, faced it bravely. Mrs. Lovell Mingott carried the trouble quietly to Mrs. Welland, who carried it to Newland Archer.
Archer burned with anger. He went to his mother and demanded that she act. She resisted inside and delayed outside. The struggle was painful.
Then, as always, she gave in to her son. Her old doubts only doubled her energy now.
She took up his cause at once. She put on her grey velvet bonnet and said, "I'll go and see Louisa van der Luyden."

Source English

The blow was unexpected; but the Mingotts, as their way was, met it gallantly. Mrs. Lovell Mingott confided the case to Mrs. Welland, who confided it to Newland Archer; who, aflame at the outrage, appealed passionately and authoritatively to his mother; who, after a painful period of inward resistance and outward temporising, succumbed to his instances (as she always did), and immediately embracing his cause with an energy redoubled by her previous hesitations, put on her grey velvet bonnet and said: "I'll go and see Louisa van der Luyden."
15

Easy English

The New York of Newland Archer's day was a small, slippery pyramid — wide at the base, narrow at the top. So far, hardly anyone cut a crack in it or won a foothold.
Its base was a firm ground of what Mrs. Archer called "plain people." They were honest, quiet families of good name. Some rose above it by marriage into one of the ruling houses. The Spicers, the Leffertses, and the Jacksons rose that way.
People, Mrs. Archer always said, were not as careful as they used to be. Old Catherine Spicer ruled one end of Fifth Avenue, and Julius Beaufort ruled the other. So you could not expect the old ways to last much longer.

Source English

The New York of Newland Archer's day was a small and slippery pyramid, in which, as yet, hardly a fissure had been made or a foothold gained. At its base was a firm foundation of what Mrs. Archer called "plain people"; an honourable but obscure majority of respectable families who (as in the case of the Spicers or the Leffertses or the Jacksons) had been raised above their level by marriage with one of the ruling clans. People, Mrs. Archer always said, were not as particular as they used to be; and with old Catherine Spicer ruling one end of Fifth Avenue, and Julius Beaufort the other, you couldn't expect the old traditions to last much longer.
16

Easy English

Above this rich but quiet base, the pyramid narrowed. Here stood the firm little ruling group of the Mingotts, the Newlands, the Chiverses, and the Mansons. Most people believed it was the very top.
But the group itself, at least in Mrs. Archer's generation, knew better. To the men who studied family lines for a living, only a few families could claim that place.

Source English

Firmly narrowing upward from this wealthy but inconspicuous substratum was the compact and dominant group which the Mingotts, Newlands, Chiverses and Mansons so actively represented. Most people imagined them to be the very apex of the pyramid; but they themselves (at least those of Mrs. Archer's generation) were aware that, in the eyes of the professional genealogist, only a still smaller number of families could lay claim to that eminence.
17

Easy English

Newspapers liked to write of a New York "aristocracy" — families set above all others by high birth.
"Don't tell me," Mrs. Archer would say to her children, "all this modern newspaper silliness about a New York aristocracy. If there is one, neither the Mingotts nor the Mansons belong to it. No, and neither do the Newlands or the Chiverses.
"Our grandfathers and great-grandfathers were just respectable English or Dutch traders. They came here when this country still belonged to England, to make their money. They stayed because they did so well.
"One of your great-grandfathers signed the Declaration of Independence. Another was a general on Washington's staff. After the battle of Saratoga, he received the sword of the British general Burgoyne.
"These are things to be proud of. But they have nothing to do with rank or class. New York has always been a trading city. Not more than three families in it can claim aristocratic origin in the real sense of the word."

Source English

"Don't tell me," Mrs. Archer would say to her children, "all this modern newspaper rubbish about a New York aristocracy. If there is one, neither the Mingotts nor the Mansons belong to it; no, nor the Newlands or the Chiverses either. Our grandfathers and great-grandfathers were just respectable English or Dutch merchants, who came to the colonies to make their fortune, and stayed here because they did so well. One of your great-grandfathers signed the Declaration, and another was a general on Washington's staff, and received General Burgoyne's sword after the battle of Saratoga. These are things to be proud of, but they have nothing to do with rank or class. New York has always been a commercial community, and there are not more than three families in it who can claim an aristocratic origin in the real sense of the word."
18

Easy English

Mrs. Archer and her children, like all New York, knew who these favored few were. The Dagonets of Washington Square came of an old English county family, tied to the Pitts and the Foxes.
The Lannings married into the line of Count de Grasse. The van der Luydens, highest of all, came straight down from the first Dutch Governor of Manhattan. Marriages before the American Revolution tied them to the French and British aristocracy.

Source English

Mrs. Archer and her son and daughter, like every one else in New York, knew who these privileged beings were: the Dagonets of Washington Square, who came of an old English county family allied with the Pitts and Foxes; the Lannings, who had intermarried with the descendants of Count de Grasse, and the van der Luydens, direct descendants of the first Dutch governor of Manhattan, and related by pre-revolutionary marriages to several members of the French and British aristocracy.
19

Easy English

Of the Lannings, only two very old but lively Miss Lannings remained. They lived happily among memories, family pictures, and fine old Chippendale furniture. The Dagonets were a large family, tied to the best names of Baltimore and Philadelphia.
But the van der Luydens stood above them all. They had faded into a pale evening light, high above the common world. Out of that light only two figures stood out: Mr. and Mrs. Henry van der Luyden.

Source English

The Lannings survived only in the person of two very old but lively Miss Lannings, who lived cheerfully and reminiscently among family portraits and Chippendale; the Dagonets were a considerable clan, allied to the best names in Baltimore and Philadelphia; but the van der Luydens, who stood above all of them, had faded into a kind of super-terrestrial twilight, from which only two figures impressively emerged; those of Mr. and Mrs. Henry van der Luyden.
20

Easy English

Before her marriage, Mrs. Henry van der Luyden was Louisa Dagonet. Her mother was the granddaughter of Colonel du Lac, from an old family of the Channel Islands. The Colonel fought under the British general Cornwallis.
After the war he settled in Maryland with his wife, Lady Angelica Trevenna. She was the fifth daughter of the Earl of St. Austrey. The Dagonets, the du Lacs of Maryland, and their high-born cousins in Cornwall, the Trevennas, always stayed close and warm.
The van der Luydens more than once paid long visits to the Duke of St. Austrey. He was the head of the Trevenna family.
They stayed at his country house in Cornwall, and at St. Austrey in Gloucestershire. The Duke often said he would some day return the visit — without the Duchess, who feared the Atlantic.

Source English

Mrs. Henry van der Luyden had been Louisa Dagonet, and her mother had been the granddaughter of Colonel du Lac, of an old Channel Island family, who had fought under Cornwallis and had settled in Maryland, after the war, with his bride, Lady Angelica Trevenna, fifth daughter of the Earl of St. Austrey. The tie between the Dagonets, the du Lacs of Maryland, and their aristocratic Cornish kinsfolk, the Trevennas, had always remained close and cordial. Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden had more than once paid long visits to the present head of the house of Trevenna, the Duke of St. Austrey, at his country-seat in Cornwall and at St. Austrey in Gloucestershire; and his Grace had frequently announced his intention of some day returning their visit (without the Duchess, who feared the Atlantic).
21

Easy English

The couple divided their time between two homes. One was Trevenna, their place in Maryland. The other was Skuytercliff, the great estate on the Hudson River. An estate was a great house with wide lands of its own.
The old Dutch government gave that land to the famous first Governor. Mr. van der Luyden was still its "Patroon," the old Dutch title for the master of that land.
Their large, serious house on Madison Avenue stayed closed most of the year. When they came to town, they received only their closest friends.

Source English

Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden divided their time between Trevenna, their place in Maryland, and Skuytercliff, the great estate on the Hudson which had been one of the colonial grants of the Dutch government to the famous first Governor, and of which Mr. van der Luyden was still "Patroon." Their large solemn house in Madison Avenue was seldom opened, and when they came to town they received in it only their most intimate friends.
22

Easy English

"I wish you would go with me, Newland," his mother said. She stopped suddenly at the door of the Brown coupe. "Louisa likes you. Of course, I am taking this step because of dear May. And also because, if we do not all stand together, there will be no such thing as Society left."

Source English

"I wish you would go with me, Newland," his mother said, suddenly pausing at the door of the Brown coupe. "Louisa is fond of you; and of course it's on account of dear May that I'm taking this step--and also because, if we don't all stand together, there'll be no such thing as Society left."