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bring herself to spend much on the transient pleasures of the table. Therefore, for totally different reasons, her food was as poor as Mrs. Archers, and her wines did nothing to redeem it. Her relatives considered that the penury of her table discredited the Mingott name, which had always been associated with good living; but people continued to come to her in spite of the made dishes and flat champagne, and in reply to the remonstrances of her son Lovell (who tried to retrieve the family credit by having the best chef in New York) she used to say laughingly: Whats the use of two good cooks in one family, now that Ive married the girls and cant eat sauces? Newland Archer, as he mused on these things, had once more turned his eyes toward the Mingott box. He saw that Mrs. Welland and her sister-in-law were facing their semicircle of critics with the Mingottian aplomb which old Catherine had inculcated in all her tribe, and that only May Welland betrayed, by a heightened colour (perhaps due to the knowledge that he was watching her) a sense of the gravity of the situation. As for the cause of the commotion, she sat gracefully in her corner of the box, her eyes fixed on the stage, and revealing, as she leaned forward, a little more shoulder and bosom than New York was accustomed to seeing, at least in ladies who had reasons for wishing to pass unnoticed. Few things seemed to Newland Archer more awful than an offence against Taste, that far-off divinity of whom Form was the mere visible representative and vicegerent. Madame Olenskas pale and serious face appealed to his fancy as suited to the occasion and to her unhappy situation; but the way her dress (which had no tucker) sloped away from her thin shoulders shocked and troubled him. He hated to think of May Welland being exposed to the influence of a young woman so careless of the dictates of Taste. After all, he heard one of the younger men begin behind him (everybody talked through the Mephistopheles- and-Martha scenes), after all, just what happened? Wellshe left him; nobody attempts to deny that. Hes an awful brute, isnt he? continued the young enquirer, a candid Thorley, who was evidently preparing to enter the lists as the ladys champion. The very worst; I knew him at Nice, said Lawrence Lefferts with authority. A half-paralysed white sneering fellowrather handsome head, but eyes with a lot of lashes. Well, Ill tell you the sort: when he wasnt with women he was collecting china. Paying any price for both, I understand. There was a general laugh, and the young champion said: Well, then? Well, then; she bolted with his secretary. Oh, I see. The champions face fell. It didnt last long, though: I heard of her a few months later living alone in Venice. I believe Lovell Mingott went out to get her. He said she was desperately unhappy. Thats all rightbut this parading her at the Operas another thing. Perhaps, young Thorley hazarded, shes too unhappy to be left at home. This was greeted with an irreverent laugh, and the youth blushed deeply, and tried to look as if he had meant to insinuate what knowing people called a double entendre. Wellits queer to have brought Miss Welland, anyhow, some one said in a low tone, with a side-glance at Archer. Oh, thats part of the campaign: Grannys orders, no doubt, Lefferts laughed. When the old lady does a thing she does it thoroughly. The act was ending, and there was a general stir in the box. Suddenly Newland Archer felt himself impelled to decisive action. The desire to be the first man to enter Mrs. Mingotts box, to proclaim to the waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her through whatever difficulties her cousins anomalous |
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