第 4 页

"You see I did as you asked me to," she said.

"Yes: I couldn't wait," he answered smiling. After a moment he added: "Only I wish it hadn't had to be at a ball."

"Yes, I know." She met his glance comprehendingly. "But after all--even here we're alone together, aren't we?"

"Oh, dearest--always!" Archer cried.

Evidently she was always going to understand; she was always going to say the right thing. The discovery made the cup of his bliss overflow, and he went on gaily: "The worst of it is that I want to kiss you and I can't." As he spoke he took a swift glance about the conservatory, assured himself of their momentary privacy, and catching her to him laid a fugitive pressure on her lips. To counteract the audacity of this proceeding he led her to a bamboo sofa in a less secluded part of the conservatory, and sitting down beside her broke a lily-of-the-valley from her bouquet. She sat silent, and the world lay like a sunlit valley at their feet.

"Did you tell my cousin Ellen?" she asked presently, as if she spoke through a dream.

He roused himself, and remembered that he had not done so. Some invincible repugnance to speak of such things to the strange foreign woman had checked the words on his lips.

"No--I hadn't the chance after all," he said, fibbing hastily.

"Ah." She looked disappointed, but gently resolved on gaining her point. "You must, then, for I didn't either; and I shouldn't like her to think--"

"Of course not. But aren't you, after all, the person to do it?"

She pondered on this. "If I'd done it at the right time, yes: but now that there's been a delay I think you must explain that I'd asked you to tell her at the Opera, before our speaking about it to everybody here. Otherwise she might think I had forgotten her. You see, she's one of the family, and she's been away so long that she's rather--sensitive."

Archer looked at her glowingly. "Dear and great angel! Of course I'll tell her." He glanced a trifle apprehensively toward the crowded ball-room. "But I haven't seen her yet. Has she come?"

"No; at the last minute she decided not to."

"At the last minute?" he echoed, betraying his surprise that she should ever have considered the alternative possible.

"Yes. She's awfully fond of dancing," the young girl answered simply. "But suddenly she made up her mind that her dress wasn't smart enough for a ball, though we thought it so lovely; and so my aunt had to take her home."

"Oh, well--" said Archer with happy indifference. Nothing about his betrothed pleased him more than her resolute determination to carry to its utmost limit that ritual of ignoring the "unpleasant" in which they had both been brought up.

"She knows as well as I do," he reflected, "the real reason of her cousin's staying away; but I shall never let her see by the least sign that I am conscious of there being a shadow of a shade on poor Ellen Olenska's reputation."

事情还是按老样子进行，一成不变。

在举办一年一度的舞会的这天晚上，朱利叶斯•博福特太太决不会忘记去歌剧院露露面。真的，为了突出她执掌家务的全能与高明，显示她拥有一班有才干的仆人，能够在她不在时安排好招待活动的种种细节，她总是在有歌剧演出的晚上举办舞会。

博福特家的住宅是纽约为数不多的有舞厅的住宅之一（甚至先于曼森，明戈特太太家和黑德利•奇弗斯家）。正当人们开始认为在客厅的地板上“乒乒乓乓”把家具搬到楼上显得“土气”的时候，拥有一个不作他用的舞厅，一年364天把它关闭在黑暗中，镀金的椅子堆在角落里，枝形吊灯装在袋子里——人们觉得，这种无庸置疑的优越性足以补偿博福特历史上任何令人遗憾的事情。

阿切尔太太喜欢将自己的社交哲学提炼成格言，有一次她曾说：“我们全都有自己宠幸的平民——”虽然这句话说得很大胆，但它的真实性却得到许多势利者暗中的承认。不过博福特夫妇并不属于严格意义上的平民，有人说他们比平民还要差。博福特太太确实属于美国最有名望的家族之一，她原本是可爱的里吉纳•达拉斯（属于南卡罗来纳的一个家系），一位分文不名的美人，是由她的表姐、鲁莽的梅多拉•曼森引荐到纽约社交界的，而梅多拉•曼森老是好心做坏事。谁若是与曼森家族和拉什沃斯家族有了亲缘关系，那么谁就会在纽约上流社会取得“公民权”（像西勒顿•杰克逊先生说的那样，他早年经常出人杜伊勒利王宫）；但是，有没有人会因为嫁给朱利叶斯•博福特，而不丧失这种公民权呢？

问题在于：博福特究竟是何许人？他被认为是个英国人，彬彬有礼，仪表堂堂，脾气很坏，但却诙谐好客。他原是带着老曼森•明戈特太太那位英国银行家女婿的推荐信来到美国的，并很快在社交界赢得了重要地位；然而他生性放荡，言辞尖刻，而他的履历又很神秘。当梅多拉•曼森宣布她表妹与他订婚的消息时，人们认定，在可怜的梅多拉长长的鲁莽纪录中又增加了一次愚蠢行动。

然而愚蠢与聪明一样，常常会给她带来良好的结果。年轻的博福特太太结婚两年之后，人们已公认她拥有了纽约最引人注目的住宅。没有人知道这一奇迹究竟是怎样发生的。她懒散驯服，刻薄的人甚至称她果笨。但她打扮得像个玩偶，金发碧眼，珠光宝气，变得一年比一年年轻，一年比一年漂亮。她在博福特先生深棕色的石头宫殿里登上宝座，无须抬一抬戴钻戒的小手指便能把整个社交界的名人都吸引到身边。知情的人说，博福特亲自训练仆役，教厨师烹调新的菜肴，吩咐园丁在温室中栽培适宜餐桌与客厅的鲜花。他还亲自挑选宾客，酿制餐后的潘趣酒，并口授妻子写给朋友的便函。假若他果真如此，那么，这些家务活动也都是私下进行的；在社交界面前出现的他，却是一位漫不经心、热情好客的百万富翁，像贵宾一样潇洒地走进自己的客厅，赞不绝口地说：“我妻子的大岩桐真令人叫绝，不是吗？我相信她是从伦敦国立植物园弄来的。”

人们一致认为，博福特先生的秘密在于他成功的处事方法。虽然有传闻说，他是由雇佣他的国际银行“帮助”离开英国的，但他对这一谣言跟对其他谣言一样满不在乎。尽管纽约的商业良心跟它的道德准则一样地敏感，但他搬走了挡在前面的一切障碍，并把全纽约的人搬进了他的客厅。二十多年来，人们说起“要去博福特家”，那口气就跟说去曼森•明戈特太太家一样地心安理得，外加一种明知会享受灰背野鸭与陈年佳酿——而非劣酒与炸丸子——的满足。

于是，跟往常一样，博福特太太在《朱厄尔之歌》开唱之前准时出现在她的包厢里；她又跟往常一样在第三幕结束时站了起来，拉一拉披在她可爱的肩膀上的歌剧斗篷，退场了。全纽约的人都明白，这意味着半小时后舞会即将开始。

博福特的家是纽约人乐于向外国人炫耀的一处住宅，尤其是在举办一年一度的舞会的晚上。博福特夫妇是纽约第一批拥有自己的红丝绒地毯的人。他们在自己的凉棚下面，让自己的男仆把地毯从门阶上铺下来；而不是像预订晚餐和舞厅用的椅子一样从外面租来。他们还开创了让女士们在门厅里脱下斗篷的风习，而不是把斗篷乱堆到楼上女主人的卧室里，再用煤气喷嘴重卷头发。据悉博福特曾经说过，他认为妻子所有的朋友出门时都已由女佣替她们做好了头发。

而且，那幢带舞厅的住宅设计得十分气派，人们不必穿过狭窄的过道（像奇弗斯家那样），便可昂首阔步地从两排相对的客厅（海绿色的、猩红色的。金黄色的）中间走进舞厅。从远处即可看到映在上光镶花地板上的许多蜡烛的光辉。再往远处看，可以望见一座温室的深处，山茶与桫楞的枝叶在黑、黄两色的竹椅上空形成拱顶。

纽兰•阿切尔到达稍微晚了一点，这符合他这样的年轻人的身份。他把大衣交给穿长丝袜的男仆（这些长袜是博福特为数不多的蠢事之一），在挂着西班牙皮革、用工艺品和孔雀石镶嵌装饰的书房里磨赠了一会儿——那儿有几位男子一面闲聊一面戴跳舞的手套——最后才加入到博福特太太在深红色客厅门口迎接的客人之中。

阿切尔显然有些紧张不安。看完歌剧他没有回俱乐部（就像公子哥儿们通常那样），而是趁着美好的夜色沿第五大街向上走了一段，然后才回过头朝博福特家的方向走去。他肯定是担心明戈特家的人可能会走得太远，生怕他们会执行明戈特老太太的命令，把奥兰斯卡伯爵夫人带到舞会上来。

从俱乐部包厢的气氛中，他已经意识到那将是多么严重的错误。而且，虽然他无比坚决地要“坚持到底”，但他觉得，他要保护未婚妻的表姐的豪侠热情，没有在歌剧院与她简短交谈之前那么高涨了。

阿切尔漫步走到金黄色客厅（博福特大胆地在里面挂了一幅引起不少争议的裸体画《得胜的爱神》），只见韦兰太太和她的女儿站在舞厅门口。那边，一对对的舞伴已经在地板上滑步，烛光撒落在旋转的纱裙上，撒落在少女们头上戴的雅致的花环上，撒落在少妇们头上浮华的枝形宝石饰品及装饰物上，撒落在光亮的衬衫前胸与上光的新手套上。

韦兰小姐显然正准备加入跳舞的人群。她呆在门口，手中握着铃兰（她没带别的花），脸色有点苍白，真切的兴奋使她两眼灼灼发光。一群男青年和姑娘聚在她的周围，不少人与她握手，笑着与她寒暄。稍稍站开一点的韦兰太太笑容满面，表达出得体的赞赏。很明显，韦兰小姐正在宣布她的订婚消息，而她母亲则装出一副与这种场合相称的家长们不情愿的模样。

阿切尔踌躇了一会儿。订婚消息是按他明确的意愿宣布的，但他的本意却不是这样把自己的幸福公布于众。在拥挤喧闹的舞厅里公布它等于强行剥掉个人秘密的保护层，那本是属于最贴近心灵的东西。他的喜悦非常深沉，所以这种表面的损伤没有触及根本，不过他还是愿意让表面也一样纯洁。令人满意的是，他发现梅•韦兰也有同样的感受。她用眼睛向他投来恳求的目光，仿佛是在说：“别忘记，我们这样做是因为它符合常理。”

任何恳求都不会在阿切尔心中得到比这更快的响应了，然而他仍希望他们之所以必须在此宣布，有一个更充分的理由，而不仅仅是为了可怜的埃伦•奥兰斯卡。韦兰小姐周围的人面带会意的笑容给他让开了路。在接受了对他的那份祝贺之后，他拉着未婚妻走到舞厅中央，把胳膊搭在了她的腰际。

“现在我们用不着非得讲话了，”他望着她那双真诚的眼睛露出笑容说。两人乘着《蓝色多瑙河》柔和的波浪漂流而去。

她没有回话，双唇绽出一丝微笑，但眼神依然淡漠庄重，仿佛正凝神于某种抹不去的幻象。“亲爱的，”阿切尔悄声说，一面用力拉她靠近自己。他坚信，订婚的最初几个小时即使在舞厅里度过，其中也包含着重大与神圣的内容。有这样一位纯洁、美丽、善良的人在身边，将是怎样的一种新生活啊！

舞会结束了，他们俩既然已成了未婚夫妻，便漫步走到温室里；坐在一片桫椤与山茶的屏障后面，纽兰将她戴着手套的手紧紧压在唇上。

“你知道，我是照你的要求做的，”她说。

“是的，我不能再等待了，”他含笑回答。过了一会儿又补充说：“我只是希望不是在舞会上宣布。”

“是的，我知道，”她会意地迎着他的目光说。“不过，毕竟——就是在这儿，我们也是单独在一起，不是吗？”

“哦，最亲爱的——永远！”阿切尔喊道。

显然，她将永远理解他，永远讲得体的话。这一发现使得他乐不可支。他开心地接着说：“最糟糕的是我想吻你却吻不到，”说着，他朝温室四周迅速瞥了一眼，弄清他们暂时处于隐蔽之中，便把她揽在怀里，匆匆地吻了一下她的双唇。为了抵消这一出格举动的影响，他把她带到温室不太隐蔽部分的一个长竹椅上。他在她身边坐下，从她的花束上摘下一朵铃兰。她坐着一语不发，整个世界像阳光灿烂的峡谷横在他们脚下。

“你告诉我的表姐埃伦了吗？”过了一会儿她问，仿佛在梦中说话一样。

他醒悟过来，想起他还没有告诉她。要向那位陌生的外籍女子讲这种事，有一种无法克服的反感使他没有说出到了嘴边的话。

“没——我一直没得到机会，”他急忙扯个小谎说。

“噢，”她看上去很失望，但决意温和地推行她的主张。“那么，你一定要讲，因为我也没讲，我不愿让她以为——”

“当然，不过话说回来，不是该由你去告诉她吗？”

她沉思了一会儿说：“假如早先有适当的时机，我去说也行。不过现在已经晚了，我想你必须向她说明，我在看歌剧时曾经让你告诉她，那可是我们在这儿告诉大家之前呀。否则她会以为我忘记她了。你知道她是家族的一员，又在外面呆了很久，因而她非常——敏感。”

阿切尔满面红光地望着她。“我亲爱的天使！我当然要告诉她的，”他略带忧虑地朝喧闹的舞厅瞥了一眼。“不过我还没见着她呢。她来了吗？”

“没有，她在最后一刻决定不来了。”

“最后一刻？”他重复道，她居然会改变主意，这使他十分惊讶。

“是的，她特别喜欢跳舞，”姑娘坦率地回答说。“可是她突然认定她的衣服在舞会上不够漂亮，尽管我们觉得它很美。所以我舅妈只得送她回家了。”

“噢——”阿切尔无所谓地说。其实，他这时倒是十分快乐。他的未婚妻竭力回避他们俩在其中长大成人的那个“不快”的阴影，这比什么都使他高兴。

“她心里跟我一样明白她表姐避不露面的真正原因，”他心想。“不过我决不能让她看出一点迹象，让她知道我了解可怜的埃伦•奥兰斯卡名誉上的阴影。”

Chapter 4

In the course of the next day the first of the usual betrothal visits were exchanged. The New York ritual was precise and inflexible in such matters; and in conformity with it Newland Archer first went with his mother and sister to call on Mrs. Welland, after which he and Mrs. Welland and May drove out to old Mrs. Manson Mingott's to receive that venerable ancestress's blessing.

A visit to Mrs. Manson Mingott was always an amusing episode to the young man. The house in itself was already an historic document, though not, of course, as venerable as certain other old family houses in University Place and lower Fifth Avenue. Those were of the purest 1830, with a grim harmony of cabbage- rose-garlanded carpets, rosewood consoles, round-arched fire-places with black marble mantels, and immense glazed book-cases of mahogany; whereas old Mrs. Mingott, who had built her house later, had bodily cast out the massive furniture of her prime, and mingled with the Mingott heirlooms the frivolous upholstery of the Second Empire. It was her habit to sit in a window of her sitting-room on the ground floor, as if watching calmly for life and fashion to flow northward to her solitary doors. She seemed in no hurry to have them come, for her patience was equalled by her confidence. She was sure that presently the hoardings, the quarries, the one-story saloons, the wooden green-houses in ragged gardens, and the rocks from which goats surveyed the scene, would vanish before the advance of residences as stately as her own--perhaps (for she was an impartial woman) even statelier; and that the cobble- stones over which the old clattering omnibuses bumped would be replaced by smooth asphalt, such as people reported having seen in Paris. Meanwhile, as every one she cared to see came to HER (and she could fill her rooms as easily as the Beauforts, and without adding a single item to the menu of her suppers), she did not suffer from her geographic isolation.

The immense accretion of flesh which had descended on her in middle life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a plump active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something as vast and august as a natural phenomenon. She had accepted this submergence as philosophically as all her other trials, and now, in extreme old age, was rewarded by presenting to her mirror an almost unwrinkled expanse of firm pink and white flesh, in the centre of which the traces of a small face survived as if awaiting excavation. A flight of smooth double chins led down to the dizzy depths of a still-snowy bosom veiled in snowy muslins that were held in place by a miniature portrait of the late Mr. Mingott; and around and below, wave after wave of black silk surged away over the edges of a capacious armchair, with two tiny white hands poised like gulls on the surface of the billows.

The burden of Mrs. Manson Mingott's flesh had long since made it impossible for her to go up and down stairs, and with characteristic independence she had made her reception rooms upstairs and established herself (in flagrant violation of all the New York proprieties) on the ground floor of her house; so that, as you sat in her sitting-room window with her, you caught (through a door that was always open, and a looped- back yellow damask portiere) the unexpected vista of a bedroom with a huge low bed upholstered like a sofa, and a toilet-table with frivolous lace flounces and a gilt-framed mirror.

Her visitors were startled and fascinated by the foreignness of this arrangement, which recalled scenes in French fiction, and architectural incentives to immorality such as the simple American had never dreamed of. That was how women with lovers lived in the wicked old societies, in apartments with all the rooms on one floor, and all the indecent propinquities that their novels described. It amused Newland Archer (who had secretly situated the love-scenes of "Monsieur de Camors" in Mrs. Mingott's bedroom) to picture her blameless life led in the stage-setting of adultery; but he said to himself, with considerable admiration, that if a lover had been what she wanted, the intrepid woman would have had him too.

To the general relief the Countess Olenska was not present in her grandmother's drawing-room during the visit of the betrothed couple. Mrs. Mingott said she had gone out; which, on a day of such glaring sunlight, and at the "shopping hour," seemed in itself an indelicate thing for a compromised woman to do. But at any rate it spared them the embarrassment of her presence, and the faint shadow that her unhappy past might seem to shed on their radiant future. The visit went off successfully, as was to have been expected. Old Mrs. Mingott was delighted with the engagement, which, being long foreseen by watchful relatives, had been carefully passed upon in family council; and the engagement ring, a large thick sapphire set in invisible claws, met with her unqualified admiration.

"It's the new setting: of course it shows the stone beautifully, but it looks a little bare to old-fashioned eyes," Mrs. Welland had explained, with a conciliatory side-glance at her future son-in-law.

"Old-fashioned eyes? I hope you don't mean mine, my dear? I like all the novelties," said the ancestress, lifting the stone to her small bright orbs, which no glasses had ever disfigured. "Very handsome," she added, returning the jewel; "very liberal. In my time a cameo set in pearls was thought sufficient. But it's the hand that sets off the ring, isn't it, my dear Mr. Archer?" and she waved one of her tiny hands, with small pointed nails and rolls of aged fat encircling the wrist like ivory bracelets. "Mine was modelled in Rome by the great Ferrigiani. You should have May's done: no doubt he'll have it done, my child. Her hand is large--it's these modern sports that spread the joints--but the skin is white.--And when's the wedding to be?" she broke off, fixing her eyes on Archer's face.

"Oh--" Mrs. Welland murmured, while the young man, smiling at his betrothed, replied: "As soon as ever it can, if only you'll back me up, Mrs. Mingott."

"We must give them time to get to know each other a little better, mamma," Mrs. Welland interposed, with the proper affectation of reluctance; to which the ancestress rejoined: "Know each other? Fiddlesticks! Everybody in New York has always known everybody. Let the young man have his way, my dear; don't wait till the bubble's off the wine. Marry them before Lent; I may catch pneumonia any winter now, and I want to give the wedding-breakfast."

These successive statements were received with the proper expressions of amusement, incredulity and gratitude; and the visit was breaking up in a vein of mild pleasantry when the door opened to admit the Countess Olenska, who entered in bonnet and mantle followed by the unexpected figure of Julius Beaufort.

There was a cousinly murmur of pleasure between the ladies, and Mrs. Mingott held out Ferrigiani's model to the banker. "Ha! Beaufort, this is a rare favour!" (She had an odd foreign way of addressing men by their surnames.)

"Thanks. I wish it might happen oftener," said the visitor in his easy arrogant way. "I'm generally so tied down; but I met the Countess Ellen in Madison Square, and she was good enough to let me walk home with her."

"Ah--I hope the house will be gayer, now that Ellen's here!" cried Mrs. Mingott with a glorious effrontery. "Sit down--sit down, Beaufort: push up the yellow armchair; now I've got you I want a good gossip. I hear your ball was magnificent; and I understand you invited Mrs. Lemuel Struthers? Well--I've a curiosity to see the woman myself."