It was, as Mrs.Archer smilingly said to Mrs.Welland, a great event for a young couple to give their first big dinner.
The Newland Archers, since they had set up their household, had received a good deal of company in an informal way.Archer was fond of having three or four friends to dine, and May welcomed them with the beaming readiness of which her mother had set her the example in conjugal affairs.Her husband questioned whether, if left to herself, she would ever have asked any one to the house; but he had long given up trying to disengage her real self from the shape into which tradition and training had moulded her.It was expected that well-off young couples in New York should do a good deal of informal entertaining, and a Welland married to an Archer was doubly pledged to the tradition.
But a big dinner, with a hired chef and two borrowed footmen, with Roman punch, roses from Henderson's, and menus on gilt-edged cards, was a different affair, and not to be lightly undertaken.As Mrs.Archer remarked, the Roman punch made all the difference;not in itself but by its manifold implications--since it signified either canvas-backs or terrapin, two soups, a hot and a cold sweet, full decolletage with short sleeves, and guests of a proportionate importance.
It was always an interesting occasion when a young pair launched their first invitations in the third person, and their summons was seldom refused even by the seasoned and sought-after.Still, it was admittedly a triumph that the van der Luydens, at May's request, should have stayed over in order to be present at her farewell dinner for the Countess Olenska.
The two mothers-in-law sat in May's drawing-room on the afternoon of the great day, Mrs.Archer writing out the menus on Tiffany's thickest gilt-edged bristol, while Mrs.Welland superintended the placing of the palms and standard lamps.
Archer, arriving late from his office, found them still there.Mrs.Archer had turned her attention to the name-cards for the table, and Mrs.Welland was considering the effect of bringing forward the large gilt sofa, so that another "corner" might be created between the piano and the window.
May, they told him, was in the dining-room inspecting the mound of Jacqueminot roses and maidenhair in the centre of the long table, and the placing of the Maillard bonbons in openwork silver baskets between the candelabra.On the piano stood a large basket of orchids which Mr.van der Luyden had had sent from Skuytercliff.Everything was, in short, as it should be on the approach of so considerable an event.
Mrs.Archer ran thoughtfully over the list, checking off each name with her sharp gold pen.
"Henry van der Luyden--Louisa--the Lovell Mingotts --the Reggie Chiverses--Lawrence Lefferts and Gertrude--(yes, I suppose May was right to have them)--the Selfridge Merrys, Sillerton Jackson, Van Newland and his wife.(How time passes! It seems only yesterday that he was your best man, Newland)--and Countess Olenska--yes, I think that's all...."Mrs.Welland surveyed her son-in-law affectionately.
"No one can say, Newland, that you and May are not giving Ellen a handsome send-off.""Ah, well," said Mrs.Archer, "I understand May's wanting her cousin to tell people abroad that we're not quite barbarians.""I'm sure Ellen will appreciate it.She was to arrive this morning, I believe.It will make a most charming last impression.The evening before sailing is usually so dreary," Mrs.Welland cheerfully continued.
Archer turned toward the door, and his mother-in-law called to him: "Do go in and have a peep at the table.And don't let May tire herself too much." But he affected not to hear, and sprang up the stairs to his library.The room looked at him like an alien countenance composed into a polite grimace; and he perceived that it had been ruthlessly "tidied," and prepared, by a judicious distribution of ash-trays and cedar-wood boxes, for the gentlemen to smoke in.
"Ah, well," he thought, "it's not for long--" and he went on to his dressing-room.
Ten days had passed since Madame Olenska's departure from New York.During those ten days Archer had had no sign from her but that conveyed by the return of a key wrapped in tissue paper, and sent to his office in a sealed envelope addressed in her hand.This retort to his last appeal might have been interpreted as a classic move in a familiar game; but the young man chose to give it a different meaning.She was still fighting against her fate; but she was going to Europe, and she was not returning to her husband.Nothing, therefore, was to prevent his following her; and once he had taken the irrevocable step, and had proved to her that it was irrevocable, he believed she would not send him away.
This confidence in the future had steadied him to play his part in the present.It had kept him from writing to her, or betraying, by any sign or act, his misery and mortification.It seemed to him that in the deadly silent game between them the trumps were still in his hands; and he waited.
There had been, nevertheless, moments sufficiently difficult to pass; as when Mr.Letterblair, the day after Madame Olenska's departure, had sent for him to go over the details of the trust which Mrs.Manson Mingott wished to create for her granddaughter.For a couple of hours Archer had examined the terms of the deed with his senior, all the while obscurely feeling that if he had been consulted it was for some reason other than the obvious one of his cousinship; and that the close of the conference would reveal it.
