70年代初一個一月的晚上，剋裏斯廷·尼爾森在紐約音樂院演唱歌劇《浮士德》。
雖然人們早就議論要在第40街以北的遠郊興建一座新的歌劇院，其造價與壯觀 將和歐洲那些著名首都的歌劇院媲美，然而上流社會卻依然滿足於每年鼕天在這座 歷史悠久的音樂院紅黃兩色的舊包廂裏進行社交聚會。保守派的人們欣賞它的窄小 不便，這樣可以把紐約社會開始懼怕但又為之吸引的“新人”拒之門外；多愁善感 的人們因為它引起許多歷史的聯想而對它戀戀不捨；而音樂愛好者則留戀它精美的 音響效果。在專為欣賞音樂而修建的廳堂中，音響效果嚮來都是個棘手的質量問題。
這是尼爾森夫人當年鼕天的首場演出。那些被日報稱為“超凡脫俗的聽衆”已 經云集來聽她的演唱。他們或乘私人馬車、或乘寬敞的家庭雙篷馬車、或者乘檔次 較低卻更為便利的“布朗四輪馬車”，經過溜滑多雪的街道來到了這裏。乘坐布朗 馬車來聽歌劇，幾乎跟坐自己的馬車一樣體面；而且，離開劇場時還有極大的優越 性（對原則開一句玩笑）：你可以搶先登上綫路上第一輛布朗馬車，而不用等 待自己的那因寒冷和烈酒而充血的紅鼻子車夫在音樂院門廊下面顯現。美國人想離 開娛樂場所比想去的時候更加迫切，這可是那位了不起的馬車行店主憑絶妙的直覺 獲得的偉大發現。
當紐蘭·阿切爾打開包廂後面的門時，花園一場的帷幕剛剛升起。這位年輕人 本可以早一點來到。他7點鐘和母親與妹妹一起用了餐，其後又在哥特式圖書室裏慢 慢吞吞地吸了一支雪茄。那間放了光亮的黑色鬍桃木書櫥和尖頂椅子的房間，是這 所房子裏阿切爾太太惟一允許吸煙的地方。然而，首先，紐約是個大都市，而他又 十分清楚，在大都市裏聽歌劇早到是“不合宜”的。而是否“合宜”，在紐蘭·阿 切爾時代的紐約，其意義就像幾千年前支配了他祖先命運的不可思議的圖騰恐懼一 樣重要。
他晚到的第二個原因是個人方面的。他吸煙慢慢吞吞，是因為他在內心深處是 個藝術的愛好者，玩味行將來到的快樂，常常會使他比快樂真的來到時感到更深切 的滿足。當這種快樂十分微妙時尤其如此，而他的樂趣多半屬於這種類型。這一次 他期盼的時機非常珍貴，其性質異常微妙——呃，假若他把時間掌握得恰到好處， 能與那位首席女演員的舞臺監督合上拍，到場時正趕上她一邊唱着“他愛我——他 不愛我——他愛我！”一邊拋灑着雛菊花瓣，其暗示像露水般清澈——果真如此， 他進音樂院的時機就再美妙不過了。
當然，她唱的是“呣啊嘛”，而不是“他愛我”，因為音樂界那不容改變、不 容懷疑的法則要求，由瑞典藝術傢演唱的法國歌劇的德語文本，必須翻譯成意大利 語，以便講英語的聽衆更清楚地理解。這一點紐蘭·阿切爾覺得和他生活中遵循的 所有其他慣例一樣理所當然：比如，用兩把帶有藍瓷漆塗着他姓名縮寫的銀背刷子 分開他的頭髮，紐扣洞裏插一朵花（最好是桅子花）纔在社交界露面。
“呣啊嘛……農呣啊嘛……”首席女演員唱道，她以贏得愛情後的最後爆發力 唱出“呣啊嘛！”一面把那束亂蓬蓬的雛菊壓在唇上，擡起一雙大眼睛，朝那位陰 鬱的小浮士德——卡布爾做作的臉上望去。他穿一件紫色的絲絨緊身上衣，戴一頂 鼓囊囊的便帽，正徒勞地裝出與那位天真的受害者一樣純潔真誠的表情。
紐蘭·阿切爾倚在俱樂部包廂後面的墻上，目光從舞臺上移開，掃視着劇場對 面。正對着他的是老曼森·明戈特太太的包廂。可怕的肥胖病早已使她無法來聽歌 劇，不過在有社交活動的晚上，她總是由家庭的某些年輕成員代表出席。這一次， 占據包廂前排座位的是她的兒媳洛弗爾·明戈特太太和她的女兒韋蘭太太。坐在這 兩位身着錦緞的婦人身後的是一位穿白衣的年輕姑娘，正目不轉睛地註視着那對舞 臺戀人。當尼爾森夫人“呣啊嘛”的顫音劃破音樂院靜寂的上空時（演唱雛菊歌期 間，各包廂總是停止交談），一片潮紅泛起在姑娘的面頰，從額頭涌嚮她美麗發辮 的根際，漫過她那青春的胸部斜面，直至係着一朵桅子花的薄紗領的領綫。她垂下 眼睛望着膝上那一大束鈴蘭。紐蘭·阿切爾看見她戴白手套的指尖輕撫着花朵。他 滿足地深深吸了一口氣。他的目光又回到舞臺上。
布景的製作是不惜工本的，連熟悉巴黎和維也納歌劇院的人也承認布景很美。 前景直至腳燈鋪了一塊鮮緑色的畫布，中景的底層是若幹覆蓋着毛茸茸緑色地衣的 對稱小丘，與槌球遊戲的拱門鄰接，上面的灌木叢形狀像桔子樹，但點綴其間的卻 是大朵大朵粉紅色和紅色的玫瑰花。比這些玫瑰更大的紫羅蘭，頗似教區女居民為 牧師製作的花形筆擦，從玫瑰樹底下的緑苔中拔地而起；在一些鮮花怒放的玫瑰枝 頭，嫁接着朵朵雛菊，預告着盧瑟·伯班剋先生園藝試驗遙遠的奇觀。
在這座魔幻般的花園中心，尼爾森夫人身穿鑲淡藍色緞子切口的白色開司米外 衣，一個網狀手提包吊在藍腰帶上晃來晃去，一條寬大的黃色織帶精心地排列在她 那件細棉緊身胸衣的兩側。她低垂着眼睛傾聽卡布爾熱烈的求愛，每當他用話語或 目光勸誘她去從右側斜伸出來的那座整潔的磚造別墅一樓的窗口時，她都裝出一副 對他的意圖毫不理解的天真的樣子。
“親愛的！”紐蘭·阿切爾心裏想。他的目光迅速回到那位手持鈴蘭的年輕姑 娘身上。“她連一點兒也看不懂啊。”他註視着她全”神貫註的稚嫩面龐，心中不 由涌出一陣擁有者的激動，其中有對自己萌動的丈夫氣概的自豪，也有對她那深不 可測的純潔的溫馨敬意。“我們將在一起讀《浮士德》，……在意大利的湖畔……” 他心想，迷迷糊糊地把自己設計的蜜月場面與文學名著攪在一起。嚮自己的新娘闡 釋名著似乎是他做丈夫的特權。僅僅在今天下午，梅·韋蘭纔讓他猜出她對他感到 “中意”（紐約人尊崇的未婚少女認可的用語），而他的想象卻早已躍過了訂婚戒 指、訂婚之吻以及走出盧亨格林教堂的婚禮行列，構畫起古老歐洲某個令人心醉的 場景中她偎依在他身旁的情景了。
他决不希望未來的紐蘭·阿切爾太太是個呆子。他要讓她（由於他朝夕相伴的 啓蒙）養成一種圓通的社交能力，隨機應變的口才，能與“年輕一代”那些最有名 氣的已婚女子平起平坐。在那些人中間，一條公認的習俗是，既要賣弄風情，引起 男人的熱情，同時又要裝聾作啞，不讓他們得寸進尺。假如他早一些對他的虛榮心 進行深入的探索（有時候他幾乎已經做到了），他可能早已發現那兒有個潛藏的願 望：希望自己的妻子跟那些已婚女士一樣地世故圓通，一樣地渴望取悅他人。那些 太太們的嫵媚曾使他心醉神迷，讓他度過了兩個稍顯焦慮的年頭——當然，他沒露 出一丁點脆弱的影子，儘管那險些毀了他這位不幸者的終生，並且整整一個鼕天攪 亂了他的計劃。
至於如何創造出這火與冰的奇跡，又如何在一個冷酷的世界上支撐下去，他可 是從來沒有花時間想過；他衹是滿足於不加分析地堅持自己的觀點，因為他知道這 也是所有那些精心梳了頭髮。穿白背心、扣洞裏別鮮花的紳士們的觀點。他們一個 接一個地進入俱樂部包廂，友好地和他打招呼，然後帶着批評的眼光把望遠鏡對準 了作為這個制度産物的女士們。在智力與藝術方面，紐蘭·阿切爾覺得自己比老紐 約上流階層這些精選的標本明顯要高一籌：他比這幫人中任何一位大概都讀得多、 思考得多，並且也見識得多。單獨來看，他們都處於劣勢，但湊在一起，他們卻代 表着“紐約”，而男性團结一致的慣例使他在稱作道德的所有問題上都接受了他們 的原則。他本能地感到，在這方面他若一個人標新立異，肯定會引起麻煩，而且也 很不得體。
“哎喲——我的天！”勞倫斯·萊弗茨喊道，突然把他的小望遠鏡從舞臺的方 嚮移開。就總體而言，勞倫斯·萊弗茨在“舉止”問題上是紐約的最高權威。他研 究這個復雜而誘人的問題花費的時間大概比任何人都多。單衹研究還不能說明他駕 輕就熟的全纔，人們衹需看他一眼——從光禿禿的前額斜面與好看的金黃鬍髭的麯 綫，到那瘦削優雅的身體另一端穿漆皮鞋的長腳——便會覺得，一個知道如何隨便 地穿着如此貴重的衣服並保持極度閑適優雅的人，在“舉止”方面的學識一定是出 自天賦。正如一位年輕崇拜者有一次談起他時所說的：“假如有誰能告訴你什麽時 間打黑領帶配夜禮服恰到好處，什麽時候不行，那麽，這個人就是勞倫斯·萊弗茨。” 至於網球鞋與漆皮“牛津”鞋孰優孰劣的問題，他的權威從未有人提出過懷疑。
“我的上帝！”他說，接着默默地將望遠鏡遞給了老西勒頓·傑剋遜。
紐蘭·阿切爾隨着萊弗茨的目光望去，驚訝地發現他的感嘆是因為一個陌生的 身影進入明戈特太太的包廂而引起的。那是位身材苗條的年輕女子，比梅·韋蘭略 矮一點，棕色的頭髮在鬢角處變成濃密的發鬈，用一條鑽石窄帶固定住。這種發型 使她具有一種時下稱作“約瑟芬式”的模樣，這一聯想在她那件深藍色絲絨晚禮服 的款式上得到了印證，那禮服用一條帶老式大扣子的腰帶在她胸下十分誇張地輓住。 她穿着這一身奇特的衣服，十分引人註目，可她似乎一點兒也未發覺。她在包廂中 間站了一會，與韋蘭太太討論占據她前排右面角落座位的禮節問題，接着便莞爾聽 命，與坐在對面角落裏的韋蘭太太的嫂嫂洛弗爾·明戈特太太在同一排就坐。
西勒頓·傑剋遜先生把小望遠鏡還給了勞倫斯·萊弗茨。全俱樂部的人都本能 地轉過臉，等着聽這位老者開講。因為正如勞倫斯·萊弗茨在“舉止”問題上那樣， 老傑剋遜先生在“傢族”問題上是最高權威。他瞭解紐約那些堂、表親戚關係的所 有支派；不僅能說清諸如明戈特傢族（通過索利傢族）與南卡羅來納州達拉斯傢族 之間的關係，以及上一支費城索利傢族與阿爾巴尼·奇弗斯傢族（决不會與大學區 的曼森·奇弗斯族混淆）復雜的親緣，而且還能列舉每個傢族的主要特點。比如萊 弗茨傢年輕一代（長島那些人）無比吝嗇；拉什沃斯一傢極其愚蠢，總是在婚配問 題上犯下致命錯誤；再如，阿爾巴尼·奇弗斯傢每隔一代就會出現一個神經病，他 們紐約的表兄妹一直拒絶與之通婚——惟獨可憐的梅多拉·曼森是個不幸的例外， 她——人所共知……而她的母親本來就是拉什沃斯傢的人。
除了這種傢族譜係的豐富知識之外，西勒頓·傑剋遜在凹陷狹窄的兩鬢之間、 柔軟濃密的銀發下面，還保存着鬱結在紐約社會平靜表層底下的最近50年間多數醜 聞與秘史的記錄。他的信息的確面廣量大，他的記憶的確精確無誤，所以人們認為 惟有他才能說出銀行傢朱利葉斯·博福特究竟是何許人，老曼森·明戈特太太的父 親、漂亮的鮑勃·斯派塞的結局究竟如何。後者結婚不到一年，就在一位美麗的西 班牙舞蹈演員登船去古巴的那一天神秘地失蹤了（帶着一大筆委托金），她在巴特 利的老歌劇院曾令蜂擁的觀衆歡欣鼓舞。不過這些秘聞——還有許多其他的——都 嚴嚴實實鎖在傑剋遜先生心中。因為，不僅強烈的道義感不許他重複別人私下告訴 他的任何事情，而且他十分清楚，謹慎周到的名聲會給他更多的機會，以便查明他 想瞭解的情況。
所以，當西勒頓·傑剋遜先生把小望遠鏡還給勞倫斯·萊弗茨的時候，俱樂部 包廂的人帶着明顯的懸念等待着。他用布滿老筋的眼瞼下那雙朦朧的藍眼睛默默地 審視一番那夥洗耳恭聽的人，然後若有所思地抖動一下鬍髭，僅僅說了一句：“沒 想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式。”
Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances "above the Forties," of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendour with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy. Conservatives cherished it for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out the "new people" whom New York was beginning to dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.
It was Madame Nilsson's first appearance that winter, and what the daily press had already learned to describe as "an exceptionally brilliant audience" had gathered to hear her, transported through the slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient "Brown coupe" To come to the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honourable a way of arriving as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same means had the immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to democratic principles) to scramble into the first Brown conveyance in the line, instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose of one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy. It was one of the great livery-stableman's most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more quickly than they want to get to it.
When Newland Archer opened the door at the back of the club box the curtain had just gone up on the garden scene. There was no reason why the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward over a cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases and finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where Mrs. Archer allowed smoking. But, in the first place, New York was a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was "not the thing" to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not "the thing" played a part as important in Newland Archer's New York as the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his forefathers thousands of years ago.
The second reason for his delay was a personal one. He had dawdled over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking over a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than its realisation. This was especially the case when the pleasure was a delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion the moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality that--well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima donna's stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more significant moment than just as she was singing: "He loves me--he loves me not--HE LOVES ME!--" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals with notes as clear as dew.
She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English- speaking audiences. This seemed as natural to Newland Archer as all the other conventions on which his life was moulded: such as the duty of using two silver- backed brushes with his monogram in blue enamel to part his hair, and of never appearing in society without a flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
"M'ama . . . non m'ama . . . " the prima donna sang, and "M'ama!", with a final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight purple velvet doublet and plumed cap, to look as pure and true as his artless victim.
Newland Archer, leaning against the wall at the back of the club box, turned his eyes from the stage and scanned the opposite side of the house. Directly facing him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott, whose monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible for her to attend the Opera, but who was always represented on fashionable nights by some of the younger members of the family. On this occasion, the front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and slightly withdrawn behind these brocaded matrons sat a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically fixed on the stagelovers. As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled out above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during the Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her breast to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened with a single gardenia. She dropped her eyes to the immense bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee, and Newland Archer saw her white-gloved finger-tips touch the flowers softly. He drew a breath of satisfied vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
No expense had been spared on the setting, which was acknowledged to be very beautiful even by people who shared his acquaintance with the Opera houses of Paris and Vienna. The foreground, to the footlights, was covered with emerald green cloth. In the middle distance symmetrical mounds of woolly green moss bounded by croquet hoops formed the base of shrubs shaped like orange-trees but studded with large pink and red roses. Gigantic pansies, considerably larger than the roses, and closely resembling the floral pen- wipers made by female parishioners for fashionable clergymen, sprang from the moss beneath the rose- trees; and here and there a daisy grafted on a rose- branch flowered with a luxuriance prophetic of Mr. Luther Burbank's far-off prodigies.
In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
"The darling!" thought Newland Archer, his glance flitting back to the young girl with the lilies-of-the- valley. "She doesn't even guess what it's all about." And he contemplated her absorbed young face with a thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity. "We'll read Faust together . . . by the Italian lakes . . ." he thought, somewhat hazily confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with the masterpieces of literature which it would be his manly privilege to reveal to his bride. It was only that afternoon that May Welland had let him guess that she "cared" (New York's consecrated phrase of maiden avowal), and already his imagination, leaping ahead of the engagement ring, the betrothal kiss and the march from Lohengrin, pictured her at his side in some scene of old European witchery.
He did not in the least wish the future Mrs. Newland Archer to be a simpleton. He meant her (thanks to his enlightening companionship) to develop a social tact and readiness of wit enabling her to hold her own with the most popular married women of the "younger set," in which it was the recognised custom to attract masculine homage while playfully discouraging it. If he had probed to the bottom of his vanity (as he sometimes nearly did) he would have found there the wish that his wife should be as worldly-wise and as eager to please as the married lady whose charms had held his fancy through two mildly agitated years; without, of course, any hint of the frailty which had so nearly marred that unhappy being's life, and had disarranged his own plans for a whole winter.
How this miracle of fire and ice was to be created, and to sustain itself in a harsh world, he had never taken the time to think out; but he was content to hold his view without analysing it, since he knew it was that of all the carefully-brushed, white-waistcoated, button- hole-flowered gentlemen who succeeded each other in the club box, exchanged friendly greetings with him, and turned their opera-glasses critically on the circle of ladies who were the product of the system. In matters intellectual and artistic Newland Archer felt himself distinctly the superior of these chosen specimens of old New York gentility; he had probably read more, thought more, and even seen a good deal more of the world, than any other man of the number. Singly they betrayed their inferiority; but grouped together they represented "New York," and the habit of masculine solidarity made him accept their doctrine on all the issues called moral. He instinctively felt that in this respect it would be troublesome--and also rather bad form--to strike out for himself.
"Well--upon my soul!" exclaimed Lawrence Lefferts, turning his opera-glass abruptly away from the stage. Lawrence Lefferts was, on the whole, the foremost authority on "form" in New York. He had probably devoted more time than any one else to the study of this intricate and fascinating question; but study alone could not account for his complete and easy competence. One had only to look at him, from the slant of his bald forehead and the curve of his beautiful fair moustache to the long patent-leather feet at the other end of his lean and elegant person, to feel that the knowledge of "form" must be congenital in any one who knew how to wear such good clothes so carelessly and carry such height with so much lounging grace. As a young admirer had once said of him: "If anybody can tell a fellow just when to wear a black tie with evening clothes and when not to, it's Larry Lefferts." And on the question of pumps versus patent-leather "Oxfords" his authority had never been disputed.
"My God!" he said; and silently handed his glass to old Sillerton Jackson.
Newland Archer, following Lefferts's glance, saw with surprise that his exclamation had been occasioned by the entry of a new figure into old Mrs. Mingott's box. It was that of a slim young woman, a little less tall than May Welland, with brown hair growing in close curls about her temples and held in place by a narrow band of diamonds. The suggestion of this headdress, which gave her what was then called a "Josephine look," was carried out in the cut of the dark blue velvet gown rather theatrically caught up under her bosom by a girdle with a large old-fashioned clasp. The wearer of this unusual dress, who seemed quite unconscious of the attention it was attracting, stood a moment in the centre of the box, discussing with Mrs. Welland the propriety of taking the latter's place in the front right- hand corner; then she yielded with a slight smile, and seated herself in line with Mrs. Welland's sister-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who was installed in the opposite corner.
Mr. Sillerton Jackson had returned the opera-glass to Lawrence Lefferts. The whole of the club turned instinctively, waiting to hear what the old man had to say; for old Mr. Jackson was as great an authority on "family" as Lawrence Lefferts was on "form." He knew all the ramifications of New York's cousinships; and could not only elucidate such complicated questions as that of the connection between the Mingotts (through the Thorleys) with the Dallases of South Carolina, and that of the relationship of the elder branch of Philadelphia Thorleys to the Albany Chiverses (on no account to be confused with the Manson Chiverses of University Place), but could also enumerate the leading characteristics of each family: as, for instance, the fabulous stinginess of the younger lines of Leffertses (the Long Island ones); or the fatal tendency of the Rushworths to make foolish matches; or the insanity recurring in every second generation of the Albany Chiverses, with whom their New York cousins had always refused to intermarry--with the disastrous exception of poor Medora Manson, who, as everybody knew . . . but then her mother was a Rushworth.
In addition to this forest of family trees, Mr. Sillerton Jackson carried between his narrow hollow temples, and under his soft thatch of silver hair, a register of most of the scandals and mysteries that had smouldered under the unruffled surface of New York society within the last fifty years. So far indeed did his information extend, and so acutely retentive was his memory, that he was supposed to be the only man who could have told you who Julius Beaufort, the banker, really was, and what had become of handsome Bob Spicer, old Mrs. Manson Mingott's father, who had disappeared so mysteriously (with a large sum of trust money) less than a year after his marriage, on the very day that a beautiful Spanish dancer who had been delighting thronged audiences in the old Opera-house on the Battery had taken ship for Cuba. But these mysteries, and many others, were closely locked in Mr. Jackson's breast; for not only did his keen sense of honour forbid his repeating anything privately imparted, but he was fully aware that his reputation for discretion increased his opportunities of finding out what he wanted to know.
The club box, therefore, waited in visible suspense while Mr. Sillerton Jackson handed back Lawrence Lefferts's opera-glass. For a moment he silently scrutinised the attentive group out of his filmy blue eyes overhung by old veined lids; then he gave his moustache a thoughtful twist, and said simply: "I didn't think the Mingotts would have tried it on."
雖然人們早就議論要在第40街以北的遠郊興建一座新的歌劇院，其造價與壯觀 將和歐洲那些著名首都的歌劇院媲美，然而上流社會卻依然滿足於每年鼕天在這座 歷史悠久的音樂院紅黃兩色的舊包廂裏進行社交聚會。保守派的人們欣賞它的窄小 不便，這樣可以把紐約社會開始懼怕但又為之吸引的“新人”拒之門外；多愁善感 的人們因為它引起許多歷史的聯想而對它戀戀不捨；而音樂愛好者則留戀它精美的 音響效果。在專為欣賞音樂而修建的廳堂中，音響效果嚮來都是個棘手的質量問題。
這是尼爾森夫人當年鼕天的首場演出。那些被日報稱為“超凡脫俗的聽衆”已 經云集來聽她的演唱。他們或乘私人馬車、或乘寬敞的家庭雙篷馬車、或者乘檔次 較低卻更為便利的“布朗四輪馬車”，經過溜滑多雪的街道來到了這裏。乘坐布朗 馬車來聽歌劇，幾乎跟坐自己的馬車一樣體面；而且，離開劇場時還有極大的優越 性（對原則開一句玩笑）：你可以搶先登上綫路上第一輛布朗馬車，而不用等 待自己的那因寒冷和烈酒而充血的紅鼻子車夫在音樂院門廊下面顯現。美國人想離 開娛樂場所比想去的時候更加迫切，這可是那位了不起的馬車行店主憑絶妙的直覺 獲得的偉大發現。
當紐蘭·阿切爾打開包廂後面的門時，花園一場的帷幕剛剛升起。這位年輕人 本可以早一點來到。他7點鐘和母親與妹妹一起用了餐，其後又在哥特式圖書室裏慢 慢吞吞地吸了一支雪茄。那間放了光亮的黑色鬍桃木書櫥和尖頂椅子的房間，是這 所房子裏阿切爾太太惟一允許吸煙的地方。然而，首先，紐約是個大都市，而他又 十分清楚，在大都市裏聽歌劇早到是“不合宜”的。而是否“合宜”，在紐蘭·阿 切爾時代的紐約，其意義就像幾千年前支配了他祖先命運的不可思議的圖騰恐懼一 樣重要。
他晚到的第二個原因是個人方面的。他吸煙慢慢吞吞，是因為他在內心深處是 個藝術的愛好者，玩味行將來到的快樂，常常會使他比快樂真的來到時感到更深切 的滿足。當這種快樂十分微妙時尤其如此，而他的樂趣多半屬於這種類型。這一次 他期盼的時機非常珍貴，其性質異常微妙——呃，假若他把時間掌握得恰到好處， 能與那位首席女演員的舞臺監督合上拍，到場時正趕上她一邊唱着“他愛我——他 不愛我——他愛我！”一邊拋灑着雛菊花瓣，其暗示像露水般清澈——果真如此， 他進音樂院的時機就再美妙不過了。
當然，她唱的是“呣啊嘛”，而不是“他愛我”，因為音樂界那不容改變、不 容懷疑的法則要求，由瑞典藝術傢演唱的法國歌劇的德語文本，必須翻譯成意大利 語，以便講英語的聽衆更清楚地理解。這一點紐蘭·阿切爾覺得和他生活中遵循的 所有其他慣例一樣理所當然：比如，用兩把帶有藍瓷漆塗着他姓名縮寫的銀背刷子 分開他的頭髮，紐扣洞裏插一朵花（最好是桅子花）纔在社交界露面。
“呣啊嘛……農呣啊嘛……”首席女演員唱道，她以贏得愛情後的最後爆發力 唱出“呣啊嘛！”一面把那束亂蓬蓬的雛菊壓在唇上，擡起一雙大眼睛，朝那位陰 鬱的小浮士德——卡布爾做作的臉上望去。他穿一件紫色的絲絨緊身上衣，戴一頂 鼓囊囊的便帽，正徒勞地裝出與那位天真的受害者一樣純潔真誠的表情。
紐蘭·阿切爾倚在俱樂部包廂後面的墻上，目光從舞臺上移開，掃視着劇場對 面。正對着他的是老曼森·明戈特太太的包廂。可怕的肥胖病早已使她無法來聽歌 劇，不過在有社交活動的晚上，她總是由家庭的某些年輕成員代表出席。這一次， 占據包廂前排座位的是她的兒媳洛弗爾·明戈特太太和她的女兒韋蘭太太。坐在這 兩位身着錦緞的婦人身後的是一位穿白衣的年輕姑娘，正目不轉睛地註視着那對舞 臺戀人。當尼爾森夫人“呣啊嘛”的顫音劃破音樂院靜寂的上空時（演唱雛菊歌期 間，各包廂總是停止交談），一片潮紅泛起在姑娘的面頰，從額頭涌嚮她美麗發辮 的根際，漫過她那青春的胸部斜面，直至係着一朵桅子花的薄紗領的領綫。她垂下 眼睛望着膝上那一大束鈴蘭。紐蘭·阿切爾看見她戴白手套的指尖輕撫着花朵。他 滿足地深深吸了一口氣。他的目光又回到舞臺上。
布景的製作是不惜工本的，連熟悉巴黎和維也納歌劇院的人也承認布景很美。 前景直至腳燈鋪了一塊鮮緑色的畫布，中景的底層是若幹覆蓋着毛茸茸緑色地衣的 對稱小丘，與槌球遊戲的拱門鄰接，上面的灌木叢形狀像桔子樹，但點綴其間的卻 是大朵大朵粉紅色和紅色的玫瑰花。比這些玫瑰更大的紫羅蘭，頗似教區女居民為 牧師製作的花形筆擦，從玫瑰樹底下的緑苔中拔地而起；在一些鮮花怒放的玫瑰枝 頭，嫁接着朵朵雛菊，預告着盧瑟·伯班剋先生園藝試驗遙遠的奇觀。
在這座魔幻般的花園中心，尼爾森夫人身穿鑲淡藍色緞子切口的白色開司米外 衣，一個網狀手提包吊在藍腰帶上晃來晃去，一條寬大的黃色織帶精心地排列在她 那件細棉緊身胸衣的兩側。她低垂着眼睛傾聽卡布爾熱烈的求愛，每當他用話語或 目光勸誘她去從右側斜伸出來的那座整潔的磚造別墅一樓的窗口時，她都裝出一副 對他的意圖毫不理解的天真的樣子。
“親愛的！”紐蘭·阿切爾心裏想。他的目光迅速回到那位手持鈴蘭的年輕姑 娘身上。“她連一點兒也看不懂啊。”他註視着她全”神貫註的稚嫩面龐，心中不 由涌出一陣擁有者的激動，其中有對自己萌動的丈夫氣概的自豪，也有對她那深不 可測的純潔的溫馨敬意。“我們將在一起讀《浮士德》，……在意大利的湖畔……” 他心想，迷迷糊糊地把自己設計的蜜月場面與文學名著攪在一起。嚮自己的新娘闡 釋名著似乎是他做丈夫的特權。僅僅在今天下午，梅·韋蘭纔讓他猜出她對他感到 “中意”（紐約人尊崇的未婚少女認可的用語），而他的想象卻早已躍過了訂婚戒 指、訂婚之吻以及走出盧亨格林教堂的婚禮行列，構畫起古老歐洲某個令人心醉的 場景中她偎依在他身旁的情景了。
他决不希望未來的紐蘭·阿切爾太太是個呆子。他要讓她（由於他朝夕相伴的 啓蒙）養成一種圓通的社交能力，隨機應變的口才，能與“年輕一代”那些最有名 氣的已婚女子平起平坐。在那些人中間，一條公認的習俗是，既要賣弄風情，引起 男人的熱情，同時又要裝聾作啞，不讓他們得寸進尺。假如他早一些對他的虛榮心 進行深入的探索（有時候他幾乎已經做到了），他可能早已發現那兒有個潛藏的願 望：希望自己的妻子跟那些已婚女士一樣地世故圓通，一樣地渴望取悅他人。那些 太太們的嫵媚曾使他心醉神迷，讓他度過了兩個稍顯焦慮的年頭——當然，他沒露 出一丁點脆弱的影子，儘管那險些毀了他這位不幸者的終生，並且整整一個鼕天攪 亂了他的計劃。
至於如何創造出這火與冰的奇跡，又如何在一個冷酷的世界上支撐下去，他可 是從來沒有花時間想過；他衹是滿足於不加分析地堅持自己的觀點，因為他知道這 也是所有那些精心梳了頭髮。穿白背心、扣洞裏別鮮花的紳士們的觀點。他們一個 接一個地進入俱樂部包廂，友好地和他打招呼，然後帶着批評的眼光把望遠鏡對準 了作為這個制度産物的女士們。在智力與藝術方面，紐蘭·阿切爾覺得自己比老紐 約上流階層這些精選的標本明顯要高一籌：他比這幫人中任何一位大概都讀得多、 思考得多，並且也見識得多。單獨來看，他們都處於劣勢，但湊在一起，他們卻代 表着“紐約”，而男性團结一致的慣例使他在稱作道德的所有問題上都接受了他們 的原則。他本能地感到，在這方面他若一個人標新立異，肯定會引起麻煩，而且也 很不得體。
“哎喲——我的天！”勞倫斯·萊弗茨喊道，突然把他的小望遠鏡從舞臺的方 嚮移開。就總體而言，勞倫斯·萊弗茨在“舉止”問題上是紐約的最高權威。他研 究這個復雜而誘人的問題花費的時間大概比任何人都多。單衹研究還不能說明他駕 輕就熟的全纔，人們衹需看他一眼——從光禿禿的前額斜面與好看的金黃鬍髭的麯 綫，到那瘦削優雅的身體另一端穿漆皮鞋的長腳——便會覺得，一個知道如何隨便 地穿着如此貴重的衣服並保持極度閑適優雅的人，在“舉止”方面的學識一定是出 自天賦。正如一位年輕崇拜者有一次談起他時所說的：“假如有誰能告訴你什麽時 間打黑領帶配夜禮服恰到好處，什麽時候不行，那麽，這個人就是勞倫斯·萊弗茨。” 至於網球鞋與漆皮“牛津”鞋孰優孰劣的問題，他的權威從未有人提出過懷疑。
“我的上帝！”他說，接着默默地將望遠鏡遞給了老西勒頓·傑剋遜。
紐蘭·阿切爾隨着萊弗茨的目光望去，驚訝地發現他的感嘆是因為一個陌生的 身影進入明戈特太太的包廂而引起的。那是位身材苗條的年輕女子，比梅·韋蘭略 矮一點，棕色的頭髮在鬢角處變成濃密的發鬈，用一條鑽石窄帶固定住。這種發型 使她具有一種時下稱作“約瑟芬式”的模樣，這一聯想在她那件深藍色絲絨晚禮服 的款式上得到了印證，那禮服用一條帶老式大扣子的腰帶在她胸下十分誇張地輓住。 她穿着這一身奇特的衣服，十分引人註目，可她似乎一點兒也未發覺。她在包廂中 間站了一會，與韋蘭太太討論占據她前排右面角落座位的禮節問題，接着便莞爾聽 命，與坐在對面角落裏的韋蘭太太的嫂嫂洛弗爾·明戈特太太在同一排就坐。
西勒頓·傑剋遜先生把小望遠鏡還給了勞倫斯·萊弗茨。全俱樂部的人都本能 地轉過臉，等着聽這位老者開講。因為正如勞倫斯·萊弗茨在“舉止”問題上那樣， 老傑剋遜先生在“傢族”問題上是最高權威。他瞭解紐約那些堂、表親戚關係的所 有支派；不僅能說清諸如明戈特傢族（通過索利傢族）與南卡羅來納州達拉斯傢族 之間的關係，以及上一支費城索利傢族與阿爾巴尼·奇弗斯傢族（决不會與大學區 的曼森·奇弗斯族混淆）復雜的親緣，而且還能列舉每個傢族的主要特點。比如萊 弗茨傢年輕一代（長島那些人）無比吝嗇；拉什沃斯一傢極其愚蠢，總是在婚配問 題上犯下致命錯誤；再如，阿爾巴尼·奇弗斯傢每隔一代就會出現一個神經病，他 們紐約的表兄妹一直拒絶與之通婚——惟獨可憐的梅多拉·曼森是個不幸的例外， 她——人所共知……而她的母親本來就是拉什沃斯傢的人。
除了這種傢族譜係的豐富知識之外，西勒頓·傑剋遜在凹陷狹窄的兩鬢之間、 柔軟濃密的銀發下面，還保存着鬱結在紐約社會平靜表層底下的最近50年間多數醜 聞與秘史的記錄。他的信息的確面廣量大，他的記憶的確精確無誤，所以人們認為 惟有他才能說出銀行傢朱利葉斯·博福特究竟是何許人，老曼森·明戈特太太的父 親、漂亮的鮑勃·斯派塞的結局究竟如何。後者結婚不到一年，就在一位美麗的西 班牙舞蹈演員登船去古巴的那一天神秘地失蹤了（帶着一大筆委托金），她在巴特 利的老歌劇院曾令蜂擁的觀衆歡欣鼓舞。不過這些秘聞——還有許多其他的——都 嚴嚴實實鎖在傑剋遜先生心中。因為，不僅強烈的道義感不許他重複別人私下告訴 他的任何事情，而且他十分清楚，謹慎周到的名聲會給他更多的機會，以便查明他 想瞭解的情況。
所以，當西勒頓·傑剋遜先生把小望遠鏡還給勞倫斯·萊弗茨的時候，俱樂部 包廂的人帶着明顯的懸念等待着。他用布滿老筋的眼瞼下那雙朦朧的藍眼睛默默地 審視一番那夥洗耳恭聽的人，然後若有所思地抖動一下鬍髭，僅僅說了一句：“沒 想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式。”
Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances "above the Forties," of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendour with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy. Conservatives cherished it for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out the "new people" whom New York was beginning to dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.
It was Madame Nilsson's first appearance that winter, and what the daily press had already learned to describe as "an exceptionally brilliant audience" had gathered to hear her, transported through the slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient "Brown coupe" To come to the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honourable a way of arriving as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same means had the immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to democratic principles) to scramble into the first Brown conveyance in the line, instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose of one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy. It was one of the great livery-stableman's most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more quickly than they want to get to it.
When Newland Archer opened the door at the back of the club box the curtain had just gone up on the garden scene. There was no reason why the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward over a cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases and finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where Mrs. Archer allowed smoking. But, in the first place, New York was a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was "not the thing" to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not "the thing" played a part as important in Newland Archer's New York as the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his forefathers thousands of years ago.
The second reason for his delay was a personal one. He had dawdled over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking over a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than its realisation. This was especially the case when the pleasure was a delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion the moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality that--well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima donna's stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more significant moment than just as she was singing: "He loves me--he loves me not--HE LOVES ME!--" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals with notes as clear as dew.
She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English- speaking audiences. This seemed as natural to Newland Archer as all the other conventions on which his life was moulded: such as the duty of using two silver- backed brushes with his monogram in blue enamel to part his hair, and of never appearing in society without a flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
"M'ama . . . non m'ama . . . " the prima donna sang, and "M'ama!", with a final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight purple velvet doublet and plumed cap, to look as pure and true as his artless victim.
Newland Archer, leaning against the wall at the back of the club box, turned his eyes from the stage and scanned the opposite side of the house. Directly facing him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott, whose monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible for her to attend the Opera, but who was always represented on fashionable nights by some of the younger members of the family. On this occasion, the front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and slightly withdrawn behind these brocaded matrons sat a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically fixed on the stagelovers. As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled out above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during the Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her breast to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened with a single gardenia. She dropped her eyes to the immense bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee, and Newland Archer saw her white-gloved finger-tips touch the flowers softly. He drew a breath of satisfied vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
No expense had been spared on the setting, which was acknowledged to be very beautiful even by people who shared his acquaintance with the Opera houses of Paris and Vienna. The foreground, to the footlights, was covered with emerald green cloth. In the middle distance symmetrical mounds of woolly green moss bounded by croquet hoops formed the base of shrubs shaped like orange-trees but studded with large pink and red roses. Gigantic pansies, considerably larger than the roses, and closely resembling the floral pen- wipers made by female parishioners for fashionable clergymen, sprang from the moss beneath the rose- trees; and here and there a daisy grafted on a rose- branch flowered with a luxuriance prophetic of Mr. Luther Burbank's far-off prodigies.
In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
"The darling!" thought Newland Archer, his glance flitting back to the young girl with the lilies-of-the- valley. "She doesn't even guess what it's all about." And he contemplated her absorbed young face with a thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity. "We'll read Faust together . . . by the Italian lakes . . ." he thought, somewhat hazily confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with the masterpieces of literature which it would be his manly privilege to reveal to his bride. It was only that afternoon that May Welland had let him guess that she "cared" (New York's consecrated phrase of maiden avowal), and already his imagination, leaping ahead of the engagement ring, the betrothal kiss and the march from Lohengrin, pictured her at his side in some scene of old European witchery.
He did not in the least wish the future Mrs. Newland Archer to be a simpleton. He meant her (thanks to his enlightening companionship) to develop a social tact and readiness of wit enabling her to hold her own with the most popular married women of the "younger set," in which it was the recognised custom to attract masculine homage while playfully discouraging it. If he had probed to the bottom of his vanity (as he sometimes nearly did) he would have found there the wish that his wife should be as worldly-wise and as eager to please as the married lady whose charms had held his fancy through two mildly agitated years; without, of course, any hint of the frailty which had so nearly marred that unhappy being's life, and had disarranged his own plans for a whole winter.
How this miracle of fire and ice was to be created, and to sustain itself in a harsh world, he had never taken the time to think out; but he was content to hold his view without analysing it, since he knew it was that of all the carefully-brushed, white-waistcoated, button- hole-flowered gentlemen who succeeded each other in the club box, exchanged friendly greetings with him, and turned their opera-glasses critically on the circle of ladies who were the product of the system. In matters intellectual and artistic Newland Archer felt himself distinctly the superior of these chosen specimens of old New York gentility; he had probably read more, thought more, and even seen a good deal more of the world, than any other man of the number. Singly they betrayed their inferiority; but grouped together they represented "New York," and the habit of masculine solidarity made him accept their doctrine on all the issues called moral. He instinctively felt that in this respect it would be troublesome--and also rather bad form--to strike out for himself.
"Well--upon my soul!" exclaimed Lawrence Lefferts, turning his opera-glass abruptly away from the stage. Lawrence Lefferts was, on the whole, the foremost authority on "form" in New York. He had probably devoted more time than any one else to the study of this intricate and fascinating question; but study alone could not account for his complete and easy competence. One had only to look at him, from the slant of his bald forehead and the curve of his beautiful fair moustache to the long patent-leather feet at the other end of his lean and elegant person, to feel that the knowledge of "form" must be congenital in any one who knew how to wear such good clothes so carelessly and carry such height with so much lounging grace. As a young admirer had once said of him: "If anybody can tell a fellow just when to wear a black tie with evening clothes and when not to, it's Larry Lefferts." And on the question of pumps versus patent-leather "Oxfords" his authority had never been disputed.
"My God!" he said; and silently handed his glass to old Sillerton Jackson.
Newland Archer, following Lefferts's glance, saw with surprise that his exclamation had been occasioned by the entry of a new figure into old Mrs. Mingott's box. It was that of a slim young woman, a little less tall than May Welland, with brown hair growing in close curls about her temples and held in place by a narrow band of diamonds. The suggestion of this headdress, which gave her what was then called a "Josephine look," was carried out in the cut of the dark blue velvet gown rather theatrically caught up under her bosom by a girdle with a large old-fashioned clasp. The wearer of this unusual dress, who seemed quite unconscious of the attention it was attracting, stood a moment in the centre of the box, discussing with Mrs. Welland the propriety of taking the latter's place in the front right- hand corner; then she yielded with a slight smile, and seated herself in line with Mrs. Welland's sister-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, who was installed in the opposite corner.
Mr. Sillerton Jackson had returned the opera-glass to Lawrence Lefferts. The whole of the club turned instinctively, waiting to hear what the old man had to say; for old Mr. Jackson was as great an authority on "family" as Lawrence Lefferts was on "form." He knew all the ramifications of New York's cousinships; and could not only elucidate such complicated questions as that of the connection between the Mingotts (through the Thorleys) with the Dallases of South Carolina, and that of the relationship of the elder branch of Philadelphia Thorleys to the Albany Chiverses (on no account to be confused with the Manson Chiverses of University Place), but could also enumerate the leading characteristics of each family: as, for instance, the fabulous stinginess of the younger lines of Leffertses (the Long Island ones); or the fatal tendency of the Rushworths to make foolish matches; or the insanity recurring in every second generation of the Albany Chiverses, with whom their New York cousins had always refused to intermarry--with the disastrous exception of poor Medora Manson, who, as everybody knew . . . but then her mother was a Rushworth.
In addition to this forest of family trees, Mr. Sillerton Jackson carried between his narrow hollow temples, and under his soft thatch of silver hair, a register of most of the scandals and mysteries that had smouldered under the unruffled surface of New York society within the last fifty years. So far indeed did his information extend, and so acutely retentive was his memory, that he was supposed to be the only man who could have told you who Julius Beaufort, the banker, really was, and what had become of handsome Bob Spicer, old Mrs. Manson Mingott's father, who had disappeared so mysteriously (with a large sum of trust money) less than a year after his marriage, on the very day that a beautiful Spanish dancer who had been delighting thronged audiences in the old Opera-house on the Battery had taken ship for Cuba. But these mysteries, and many others, were closely locked in Mr. Jackson's breast; for not only did his keen sense of honour forbid his repeating anything privately imparted, but he was fully aware that his reputation for discretion increased his opportunities of finding out what he wanted to know.
The club box, therefore, waited in visible suspense while Mr. Sillerton Jackson handed back Lawrence Lefferts's opera-glass. For a moment he silently scrutinised the attentive group out of his filmy blue eyes overhung by old veined lids; then he gave his moustache a thoughtful twist, and said simply: "I didn't think the Mingotts would have tried it on."
在這個短暫的插麯中間，紐蘭·阿切爾陷入一種奇怪的尷尬境地。
討厭的是，如此吸引着紐約男性世界全部註意力的包廂竟是他未婚妻就坐的那 一個，她坐在母親與舅媽中間。他一時竟認不出那位穿着法國30年代服裝的女士， 也想象不出她的出現為什麽會在俱樂部會員中引起如此的興奮。接着，他明白過來， 並隨之産生一陣憤慨。的確，沒有人會想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式！
然而他們這樣做了。毫無疑義，他們是這樣做了；因為阿切爾身後低聲的評論 使他心中沒有絲毫懷疑，那位年輕女子就是梅·韋蘭的表姐，那位傢裏人一直稱作 “可憐的埃倫·奧蘭斯卡”的表姐。阿切爾知道她一兩天前突然從歐洲回來了，甚 至還聽韋蘭小姐（並非不滿地）說過，她已經去看過可憐的埃倫了。她住在老明戈 特太太那兒。阿切爾完全擁護傢族的團结。他最崇拜的明戈特傢族的品德之一，就 是他們對傢族中出的幾個不肖子弟的堅决支持。他並不自私，也不是小雞肚腸；他 未來的妻子沒有受到假正經的局限，能（私下）善待她不幸的表姐，他還為此感到 高興。然而，在家庭圈子內接待奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人是一回事，把她帶到公共場所， 尤其是歌劇院這樣的地方，則是完全不同的另一回事。而且就在那位年輕姑娘的包 廂裏，她與他紐蘭·阿切爾的訂婚消息幾周之內就要宣佈。是的，他的感覺與老西 勒頓·傑剋遜一樣：他沒想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式！
他當然知道，男人敢做的任何事（第五大街範圍之內），老曼森·明戈特太太 這位女族長都敢做。他一嚮崇拜這位高大剛毅的老夫人，儘管她原來不過是斯塔騰 島的凱瑟琳·斯派塞，有一位神秘的名譽掃地的父親，那件事無論金錢還是地位都 難以讓人們忘記。然而，她卻與富有的明戈特傢族的領頭人聯了姻，把兩個女兒嫁 給了“外國人”（一個意大利侯爵，一個英國銀行傢），並且在中央公園附近無法 插足的荒地裏建了一所乳白色石頭大宅院（正值棕色沙石仿佛像下午的長禮服那樣 青一色的時候），從而達到了登峰造極的地步。
老明戈特太太的兩個外籍女兒成了一則神話故事。她們從不回來看望母親。母 親依戀故土且身體肥胖，像許多思想活躍意志專橫的人那樣，一直達觀地留在傢中， 而那幢乳白色的房子（據說是仿照巴黎貴族的私人旅館建造的）卻成了她大無畏精 神的見證。她在裏面登上寶座，平靜地生活在獨立戰爭前的傢具與路易·拿破侖杜 伊勒利宮（她中年時曾在那兒大出風頭）的紀念品中間，仿佛住在34街以北、用開 得像門一樣大的法式窗戶代替推拉式吊窗絲毫不足為怪似的。
人人（包括西勒頓·傑剋遜先生）都一致認為，老凱瑟琳從沒擁有過美貌，而 在紐約人眼中，美貌是成功的保證，也可作為某些失敗的藉口。不友善的人們說， 像她那位大英帝國的同名女人一樣，她獲得成功靠的是意志力量與冷酷心腸， 外加一種由於私生活絶對正派而使她在一定程度上免遭非議的傲慢。曼森·明戈特 先生去世的時候她衹有28歲。出於對斯派塞傢族的不信任，他用一條附加條款“凍 結”了自己的遺産。他那位年輕、果敢的遺孀大無畏地走着自己的路，她無拘無束 地混跡在外國的社交界，把女兒嫁到天知道何等腐化時髦的圈子裏，與公爵大使們 開懷暢飲，與教皇傢親密交往，款待歌劇演員，並做了芭蕾名門之後塔戈裏奧 尼夫人的密友。與此同時（正如西勒頓·傑剋遜首先宣佈的），關於她的名聲卻從 沒有一句口舌。這是她惟一一點，他總是接着說，與以前那位凱瑟琳的不同之處。
曼森·明戈特太太早已解凍了丈夫的財産，並殷殷實實地活了半個世紀。早年 睏境的記憶使她格外節儉，雖然她在買衣服或添置傢具時總是關照要最好的，但卻 捨不得為餐桌上瞬間的享樂過多破費。所以，由於完全不同的原因，她的飯菜跟阿 切爾太太傢一樣差，她的酒也不能為之增光添彩。親戚們認為，她餐桌上的吝嗇損 害了明戈特傢的名譽——它一嚮是與吃喝講究連在一起的。然而人們還是不顧那些 “拼盤”與走味的香擯，繼續到她傢來。針對她兒子洛弗爾的勸告（他企圖雇傭紐 約最好的廚師以恢復傢族的名譽），她常常笑着說：“既然姑娘們都嫁出去了，我 又不能用調味品，一個家庭用兩個好廚師還有什麽用？”
紐蘭·阿切爾一面沉思着這些事情，又把目光轉嚮了明戈特包廂。他見韋蘭太 太與她的嫂嫂正帶着老凱瑟琳嚮族人灌輸的那種明戈特傢特有的自恃面對着組成半 圓形的批評者。衹有梅·韋蘭面色緋紅（也許由於知道他在看她），流露出事態嚴 峻的意味。至於引起騷動的那一位，依然優雅地坐在包廂角落裏，兩眼凝視着舞臺。 由於身體前傾，她肩膀和胸部露得比紐約社會習慣看到的稍稍多了一點，至少在那 些有理由希望不引起註意的女士們中間是如此。
在紐蘭·阿切爾看來，很少有什麽事比與“品味”相悖更難堪的了。品味是一 種看不見的神韻，“舉止”僅僅是它直觀的替代物與代表。奧蘭斯卡夫人蒼白而嚴 肅的面孔，按他的想象是適合於這種場合及她的不幸處境的，但她的衣服（沒有衣 領）從那單薄的肩頭坡下去的樣式卻令他震驚不安。他不願設想梅·韋蘭受到一個 如此不顧品味和情趣的年輕女子的影響。
“究竟——”他聽到身後一個年輕人開口說（在靡菲斯特與瑪莎的幾場戲中， 大傢自始至終都在交談），“究竟發生了什麽事？”
“哦——她離開了他；誰也不想否認這一點。”
“他是個可怕的畜牲，不是嗎？”年輕人接着說，他是索利傢族中一位直率的 人，顯然準備加入那位女士的護花使者之列。
“一個糟糕透了的傢夥；我在尼斯見過他，”勞倫斯·萊弗茨以權威的口氣說。 “老喝得半醉，蒼白的面孔上露出譏笑——但腦袋倒很漂亮，不過眼睫毛太多。噢， 我來告訴你他那德行：他不是跟女人在一起，就是去收集瓷器。據我所知，他對兩 者都不惜任何代價。”
這話引出一陣哄堂大笑，那位年輕的護花使者說：“唔，可是——”
“唔，可是，她跟他的秘書逃跑了。”
“噢，我明白了。”護花使者的臉沉了下來。
“可是，這並沒有持續多久：我聽說她幾個月後就獨自住在威尼斯，我相信洛 弗爾·明戈特那次出國是去找她的。他曾說她非常地不快活。現在沒事了——不過 在歌劇院裏這樣炫耀她卻另當別論。”
“也許，”那位小索利冒險地說，“她太不快活了，不會願意一個人被晾在傢 裏。”
這話引來一陣無禮的笑聲，年輕人臉色深紅，竭力裝出是想巧妙使用聰明人所 說的“雙關語”的樣子。
“唔——不管怎麽說，把韋蘭小姐帶來總是令人費解，”有人悄悄地說，一面 斜視了阿切爾一眼。
“噢，這是運動的一個組成部分嘛：肯定是老祖宗的命令，”萊弗茨笑着說。 “老夫人要是幹一件事，總要幹得完全徹底。”
這一幕結束了，包廂裏一陣普遍的騷動。紐蘭·阿切爾突然感到必須采取果斷 行動。他要第一個走進明戈特太太的包廂，第一個嚮期望中的社交界宣佈他與梅· 韋蘭的訂婚消息，第一個去幫助她度過表姐的異常處境可能使她捲人的任何睏難。 這一衝動猛然間壓倒了一切顧慮與遲疑，促使他匆匆穿過一節節紅色走廊，嚮劇院 較遠的一端走去。
進入包廂的時候，他的眼睛遇到了韋蘭小姐的目光，而且他發現她立即明白了 他的來意，儘管傢族的尊嚴不允許她對他明講——兩個人都認為這是一種很高尚的 美德。他們這個圈子的人都生活在一種含而不露、稍顯矜持的氣氛中，年輕人覺得， 他與她不用說一句話就能互相溝通，任何解釋都不能使他們更加貼近。她的眼睛在 說：“你明白媽媽為什麽帶我來。”他的眼睛則回答：“無論如何我都不肯讓你離 開這兒。”
“你認識我的侄女奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人嗎？”韋蘭太太與她未來的女婿握手時問 道。按照引見給女士的習慣，阿切爾欠一子，沒有伸出手；埃倫·奧蘭斯卡輕 輕低一下頭，兩衹戴淺色手套的手繼續握着那把大鷹毛扇子。與洛弗爾·明戈特太 太打過招呼——她是個大塊頭的金發女人，穿一身悉索作響的緞子衣裙——他在未 婚妻的身旁坐下，低聲說：“我希望你已經告訴奧蘭斯卡夫人我們訂婚了吧？我想 讓每個人都知道——我要你允許我今晚在舞會上宣佈。”
韋蘭小姐的臉變成曙光般的玫瑰紅色，她兩眼發光地看着他。“如果你能說服 媽媽的話，”她說，“不過，已經定了的事，幹嗎要改變呢？”他沒有說話，衹用 眼睛做了回答。她信心更足地笑着補充說：“你自己告訴我表姐吧，我允許你。她 說你還是孩子的時候，她常和你一起玩耍。”
她把椅子嚮後推了推，給他讓出了路。阿切爾懷着一種讓全場的人都能看見自 己的舉動的願望，立刻示威性地坐到了奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人身邊。
“我們過去的確常在一起玩，不是嗎？”她問道，一面用嚴肅的目光看着他的 眼睛。“你那時是個很討厭的男孩，有一次你在門後面吻了我，但那時我愛上的卻 是你的堂兄範迪·紐蘭，可他從來不看我一眼。”她的目光掃視着那些馬蹄形排列 的包廂。“啊，這場面多讓我回想起過去的一切啊——我發現這裏人人都穿燈籠褲 或寬鬆褲，”她帶着略微拖長的異國口音說，目光又回到他的臉上。
這番話儘管表達的感情是令人愉快的，卻竟然使他想到了威嚴的法庭，這一不 相稱的聯想令年輕人感到震驚。而此時此刻，這個法庭就擺在她的面前，她的案子 正在進行審理。沒有什麽東西比不合時宜的輕率更有傷大雅了。他有點生硬地回答 說：“是啊，你離開這兒已經很久了。”
“啊，好像有好幾百年了。太久了，”她說，“讓我覺得自己已經死了，被埋 掉了，而這方親切的故土就是天堂。”說不清是什麽理由，紐蘭·阿切爾衹覺得這 樣形容紐約社會就更加失禮了。
It was annoying that the box which was thus attracting the undivided attention of masculine New York should be that in which his betrothed was seated between her mother and aunt; and for a moment he could not identify the lady in the Empire dress, nor imagine why her presence created such excitement among the initiated. Then light dawned on him, and with it came a momentary rush of indignation. No, indeed; no one would have thought the Mingotts would have tried it on!
But they had; they undoubtedly had; for the low- toned comments behind him left no doubt in Archer's mind that the young woman was May Welland's cousin, the cousin always referred to in the family as "poor Ellen Olenska." Archer knew that she had suddenly arrived from Europe a day or two previously; he had even heard from Miss Welland (not disapprovingly) that she had been to see poor Ellen, who was staying with old Mrs. Mingott. Archer entirely approved of family solidarity, and one of the qualities he most admired in the Mingotts was their resolute championship of the few black sheep that their blameless stock had produced. There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man's heart, and he was glad that his future wife should not be restrained by false prudery from being kind (in private) to her unhappy cousin; but to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a different thing from producing her in public, at the Opera of all places, and in the very box with the young girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer, was to be announced within a few weeks. No, he felt as old Sillerton Jackson felt; he did not think the Mingotts would have tried it on!
He knew, of course, that whatever man dared (within Fifth Avenue's limits) that old Mrs. Manson Mingott, the Matriarch of the line, would dare. He had always admired the high and mighty old lady, who, in spite of having been only Catherine Spicer of Staten Island, with a father mysteriously discredited, and neither money nor position enough to make people forget it, had allied herself with the head of the wealthy Mingott line, married two of her daughters to "foreigners" (an Italian marquis and an English banker), and put the crowning touch to her audacities by building a large house of pale cream-coloured stone (when brown sandstone seemed as much the only wear as a frock-coat in the afternoon) in an inaccessible wilderness near the Central Park.
Old Mrs. Mingott's foreign daughters had become a legend. They never came back to see their mother, and the latter being, like many persons of active mind and dominating will, sedentary and corpulent in her habit, had philosophically remained at home. But the cream- coloured house (supposed to be modelled on the private hotels of the Parisian aristocracy) was there as a visible proof of her moral courage; and she throned in it, among pre-Revolutionary furniture and souvenirs of the Tuileries of Louis Napoleon (where she had shone in her middle age), as placidly as if there were nothing peculiar in living above Thirty-fourth Street, or in having French windows that opened like doors instead of sashes that pushed up.
Every one (including Mr. Sillerton Jackson) was agreed that old Catherine had never had beauty--a gift which, in the eyes of New York, justified every success, and excused a certain number of failings. Unkind people said that, like her Imperial namesake, she had won her way to success by strength of will and hardness of heart, and a kind of haughty effrontery that was somehow justified by the extreme decency and dignity of her private life. Mr. Manson Mingott had died when she was only twenty-eight, and had "tied up" the money with an additional caution born of the general distrust of the Spicers; but his bold young widow went her way fearlessly, mingled freely in foreign society, married her daughters in heaven knew what corrupt and fashionable circles, hobnobbed with Dukes and Ambassadors, associated familiarly with Papists, entertained Opera singers, and was the intimate friend of Mme. Taglioni; and all the while (as Sillerton Jackson was the first to proclaim) there had never been a breath on her reputation; the only respect, he always added, in which she differed from the earlier Catherine.
Mrs. Manson Mingott had long since succeeded in untying her husband's fortune, and had lived in affluence for half a century; but memories of her early straits had made her excessively thrifty, and though, when she bought a dress or a piece of furniture, she took care that it should be of the best, she could not bring herself to spend much on the transient pleasures of the table. Therefore, for totally different reasons, her food was as poor as Mrs. Archer's, 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: "What's the use of two good cooks in one family, now that I've married the girls and can't 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 Olenska's 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's 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?"
"Well--she left him; nobody attempts to deny that."
"He's an awful brute, isn't he?" continued the young enquirer, a candid Thorley, who was evidently preparing to enter the lists as the lady's champion.
"The very worst; I knew him at Nice," said Lawrence Lefferts with authority. "A half-paralysed white sneering fellow--rather handsome head, but eyes with a lot of lashes. Well, I'll tell you the sort: when he wasn't 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 champion's face fell.
"It didn't 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. That's all right--but this parading her at the Opera's another thing."
"Perhaps," young Thorley hazarded, "she's 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."
"Well--it's queer to have brought Miss Welland, anyhow," some one said in a low tone, with a side- glance at Archer.
"Oh, that's part of the campaign: Granny's 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. Mingott's box, to proclaim to the waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her through whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous situation might involve her in; this impulse had abruptly overruled all scruples and hesitations, and sent him hurrying through the red corridors to the farther side of the house.
As he entered the box his eyes met Miss Welland's, and he saw that she had instantly understood his motive, though the family dignity which both considered so high a virtue would not permit her to tell him so. The persons of their world lived in an atmosphere of faint implications and pale delicacies, and the fact that he and she understood each other without a word seemed to the young man to bring them nearer than any explanation would have done. Her eyes said: "You see why Mamma brought me," and his answered: "I would not for the world have had you stay away."
"You know my niece Countess Olenska?" Mrs. Welland enquired as she shook hands with her future son- in-law. Archer bowed without extending his hand, as was the custom on being introduced to a lady; and Ellen Olenska bent her head slightly, keeping her own pale-gloved hands clasped on her huge fan of eagle feathers. Having greeted Mrs. Lovell Mingott, a large blonde lady in creaking satin, he sat down beside his betrothed, and said in a low tone: "I hope you've told Madame Olenska that we're engaged? I want everybody to know--I want you to let me announce it this evening at the ball."
Miss Welland's face grew rosy as the dawn, and she looked at him with radiant eyes. "If you can persuade Mamma," she said; "but why should we change what is already settled?" He made no answer but that which his eyes returned, and she added, still more confidently smiling: "Tell my cousin yourself: I give you leave. She says she used to play with you when you were children."
She made way for him by pushing back her chair, and promptly, and a little ostentatiously, with the desire that the whole house should see what he was doing, Archer seated himself at the Countess Olenska's side.
"We DID use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her grave eyes to his. "You were a horrid boy, and kissed me once behind a door; but it was your cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me, that I was in love with." Her glance swept the horse-shoe curve of boxes. "Ah, how this brings it all back to me--I see everybody here in knickerbockers and pantalettes," she said, with her trailing slightly foreign accent, her eyes returning to his face.
Agreeable as their expression was, the young man was shocked that they should reflect so unseemly a picture of the august tribunal before which, at that very moment, her case was being tried. Nothing could be in worse taste than misplaced flippancy; and he answered somewhat stiffly: "Yes, you have been away a very long time."
"Oh, centuries and centuries; so long," she said, "that I'm sure I'm dead and buried, and this dear old place is heaven;" which, for reasons he could not define, struck Newland Archer as an even more disrespectful way of describing New York society.
討厭的是，如此吸引着紐約男性世界全部註意力的包廂竟是他未婚妻就坐的那 一個，她坐在母親與舅媽中間。他一時竟認不出那位穿着法國30年代服裝的女士， 也想象不出她的出現為什麽會在俱樂部會員中引起如此的興奮。接着，他明白過來， 並隨之産生一陣憤慨。的確，沒有人會想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式！
然而他們這樣做了。毫無疑義，他們是這樣做了；因為阿切爾身後低聲的評論 使他心中沒有絲毫懷疑，那位年輕女子就是梅·韋蘭的表姐，那位傢裏人一直稱作 “可憐的埃倫·奧蘭斯卡”的表姐。阿切爾知道她一兩天前突然從歐洲回來了，甚 至還聽韋蘭小姐（並非不滿地）說過，她已經去看過可憐的埃倫了。她住在老明戈 特太太那兒。阿切爾完全擁護傢族的團结。他最崇拜的明戈特傢族的品德之一，就 是他們對傢族中出的幾個不肖子弟的堅决支持。他並不自私，也不是小雞肚腸；他 未來的妻子沒有受到假正經的局限，能（私下）善待她不幸的表姐，他還為此感到 高興。然而，在家庭圈子內接待奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人是一回事，把她帶到公共場所， 尤其是歌劇院這樣的地方，則是完全不同的另一回事。而且就在那位年輕姑娘的包 廂裏，她與他紐蘭·阿切爾的訂婚消息幾周之內就要宣佈。是的，他的感覺與老西 勒頓·傑剋遜一樣：他沒想到明戈特傢的人會擺出這種架式！
他當然知道，男人敢做的任何事（第五大街範圍之內），老曼森·明戈特太太 這位女族長都敢做。他一嚮崇拜這位高大剛毅的老夫人，儘管她原來不過是斯塔騰 島的凱瑟琳·斯派塞，有一位神秘的名譽掃地的父親，那件事無論金錢還是地位都 難以讓人們忘記。然而，她卻與富有的明戈特傢族的領頭人聯了姻，把兩個女兒嫁 給了“外國人”（一個意大利侯爵，一個英國銀行傢），並且在中央公園附近無法 插足的荒地裏建了一所乳白色石頭大宅院（正值棕色沙石仿佛像下午的長禮服那樣 青一色的時候），從而達到了登峰造極的地步。
老明戈特太太的兩個外籍女兒成了一則神話故事。她們從不回來看望母親。母 親依戀故土且身體肥胖，像許多思想活躍意志專橫的人那樣，一直達觀地留在傢中， 而那幢乳白色的房子（據說是仿照巴黎貴族的私人旅館建造的）卻成了她大無畏精 神的見證。她在裏面登上寶座，平靜地生活在獨立戰爭前的傢具與路易·拿破侖杜 伊勒利宮（她中年時曾在那兒大出風頭）的紀念品中間，仿佛住在34街以北、用開 得像門一樣大的法式窗戶代替推拉式吊窗絲毫不足為怪似的。
人人（包括西勒頓·傑剋遜先生）都一致認為，老凱瑟琳從沒擁有過美貌，而 在紐約人眼中，美貌是成功的保證，也可作為某些失敗的藉口。不友善的人們說， 像她那位大英帝國的同名女人一樣，她獲得成功靠的是意志力量與冷酷心腸， 外加一種由於私生活絶對正派而使她在一定程度上免遭非議的傲慢。曼森·明戈特 先生去世的時候她衹有28歲。出於對斯派塞傢族的不信任，他用一條附加條款“凍 結”了自己的遺産。他那位年輕、果敢的遺孀大無畏地走着自己的路，她無拘無束 地混跡在外國的社交界，把女兒嫁到天知道何等腐化時髦的圈子裏，與公爵大使們 開懷暢飲，與教皇傢親密交往，款待歌劇演員，並做了芭蕾名門之後塔戈裏奧 尼夫人的密友。與此同時（正如西勒頓·傑剋遜首先宣佈的），關於她的名聲卻從 沒有一句口舌。這是她惟一一點，他總是接着說，與以前那位凱瑟琳的不同之處。
曼森·明戈特太太早已解凍了丈夫的財産，並殷殷實實地活了半個世紀。早年 睏境的記憶使她格外節儉，雖然她在買衣服或添置傢具時總是關照要最好的，但卻 捨不得為餐桌上瞬間的享樂過多破費。所以，由於完全不同的原因，她的飯菜跟阿 切爾太太傢一樣差，她的酒也不能為之增光添彩。親戚們認為，她餐桌上的吝嗇損 害了明戈特傢的名譽——它一嚮是與吃喝講究連在一起的。然而人們還是不顧那些 “拼盤”與走味的香擯，繼續到她傢來。針對她兒子洛弗爾的勸告（他企圖雇傭紐 約最好的廚師以恢復傢族的名譽），她常常笑着說：“既然姑娘們都嫁出去了，我 又不能用調味品，一個家庭用兩個好廚師還有什麽用？”
紐蘭·阿切爾一面沉思着這些事情，又把目光轉嚮了明戈特包廂。他見韋蘭太 太與她的嫂嫂正帶着老凱瑟琳嚮族人灌輸的那種明戈特傢特有的自恃面對着組成半 圓形的批評者。衹有梅·韋蘭面色緋紅（也許由於知道他在看她），流露出事態嚴 峻的意味。至於引起騷動的那一位，依然優雅地坐在包廂角落裏，兩眼凝視着舞臺。 由於身體前傾，她肩膀和胸部露得比紐約社會習慣看到的稍稍多了一點，至少在那 些有理由希望不引起註意的女士們中間是如此。
在紐蘭·阿切爾看來，很少有什麽事比與“品味”相悖更難堪的了。品味是一 種看不見的神韻，“舉止”僅僅是它直觀的替代物與代表。奧蘭斯卡夫人蒼白而嚴 肅的面孔，按他的想象是適合於這種場合及她的不幸處境的，但她的衣服（沒有衣 領）從那單薄的肩頭坡下去的樣式卻令他震驚不安。他不願設想梅·韋蘭受到一個 如此不顧品味和情趣的年輕女子的影響。
“究竟——”他聽到身後一個年輕人開口說（在靡菲斯特與瑪莎的幾場戲中， 大傢自始至終都在交談），“究竟發生了什麽事？”
“哦——她離開了他；誰也不想否認這一點。”
“他是個可怕的畜牲，不是嗎？”年輕人接着說，他是索利傢族中一位直率的 人，顯然準備加入那位女士的護花使者之列。
“一個糟糕透了的傢夥；我在尼斯見過他，”勞倫斯·萊弗茨以權威的口氣說。 “老喝得半醉，蒼白的面孔上露出譏笑——但腦袋倒很漂亮，不過眼睫毛太多。噢， 我來告訴你他那德行：他不是跟女人在一起，就是去收集瓷器。據我所知，他對兩 者都不惜任何代價。”
這話引出一陣哄堂大笑，那位年輕的護花使者說：“唔，可是——”
“唔，可是，她跟他的秘書逃跑了。”
“噢，我明白了。”護花使者的臉沉了下來。
“可是，這並沒有持續多久：我聽說她幾個月後就獨自住在威尼斯，我相信洛 弗爾·明戈特那次出國是去找她的。他曾說她非常地不快活。現在沒事了——不過 在歌劇院裏這樣炫耀她卻另當別論。”
“也許，”那位小索利冒險地說，“她太不快活了，不會願意一個人被晾在傢 裏。”
這話引來一陣無禮的笑聲，年輕人臉色深紅，竭力裝出是想巧妙使用聰明人所 說的“雙關語”的樣子。
“唔——不管怎麽說，把韋蘭小姐帶來總是令人費解，”有人悄悄地說，一面 斜視了阿切爾一眼。
“噢，這是運動的一個組成部分嘛：肯定是老祖宗的命令，”萊弗茨笑着說。 “老夫人要是幹一件事，總要幹得完全徹底。”
這一幕結束了，包廂裏一陣普遍的騷動。紐蘭·阿切爾突然感到必須采取果斷 行動。他要第一個走進明戈特太太的包廂，第一個嚮期望中的社交界宣佈他與梅· 韋蘭的訂婚消息，第一個去幫助她度過表姐的異常處境可能使她捲人的任何睏難。 這一衝動猛然間壓倒了一切顧慮與遲疑，促使他匆匆穿過一節節紅色走廊，嚮劇院 較遠的一端走去。
進入包廂的時候，他的眼睛遇到了韋蘭小姐的目光，而且他發現她立即明白了 他的來意，儘管傢族的尊嚴不允許她對他明講——兩個人都認為這是一種很高尚的 美德。他們這個圈子的人都生活在一種含而不露、稍顯矜持的氣氛中，年輕人覺得， 他與她不用說一句話就能互相溝通，任何解釋都不能使他們更加貼近。她的眼睛在 說：“你明白媽媽為什麽帶我來。”他的眼睛則回答：“無論如何我都不肯讓你離 開這兒。”
“你認識我的侄女奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人嗎？”韋蘭太太與她未來的女婿握手時問 道。按照引見給女士的習慣，阿切爾欠一子，沒有伸出手；埃倫·奧蘭斯卡輕 輕低一下頭，兩衹戴淺色手套的手繼續握着那把大鷹毛扇子。與洛弗爾·明戈特太 太打過招呼——她是個大塊頭的金發女人，穿一身悉索作響的緞子衣裙——他在未 婚妻的身旁坐下，低聲說：“我希望你已經告訴奧蘭斯卡夫人我們訂婚了吧？我想 讓每個人都知道——我要你允許我今晚在舞會上宣佈。”
韋蘭小姐的臉變成曙光般的玫瑰紅色，她兩眼發光地看着他。“如果你能說服 媽媽的話，”她說，“不過，已經定了的事，幹嗎要改變呢？”他沒有說話，衹用 眼睛做了回答。她信心更足地笑着補充說：“你自己告訴我表姐吧，我允許你。她 說你還是孩子的時候，她常和你一起玩耍。”
她把椅子嚮後推了推，給他讓出了路。阿切爾懷着一種讓全場的人都能看見自 己的舉動的願望，立刻示威性地坐到了奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人身邊。
“我們過去的確常在一起玩，不是嗎？”她問道，一面用嚴肅的目光看着他的 眼睛。“你那時是個很討厭的男孩，有一次你在門後面吻了我，但那時我愛上的卻 是你的堂兄範迪·紐蘭，可他從來不看我一眼。”她的目光掃視着那些馬蹄形排列 的包廂。“啊，這場面多讓我回想起過去的一切啊——我發現這裏人人都穿燈籠褲 或寬鬆褲，”她帶着略微拖長的異國口音說，目光又回到他的臉上。
這番話儘管表達的感情是令人愉快的，卻竟然使他想到了威嚴的法庭，這一不 相稱的聯想令年輕人感到震驚。而此時此刻，這個法庭就擺在她的面前，她的案子 正在進行審理。沒有什麽東西比不合時宜的輕率更有傷大雅了。他有點生硬地回答 說：“是啊，你離開這兒已經很久了。”
“啊，好像有好幾百年了。太久了，”她說，“讓我覺得自己已經死了，被埋 掉了，而這方親切的故土就是天堂。”說不清是什麽理由，紐蘭·阿切爾衹覺得這 樣形容紐約社會就更加失禮了。
It was annoying that the box which was thus attracting the undivided attention of masculine New York should be that in which his betrothed was seated between her mother and aunt; and for a moment he could not identify the lady in the Empire dress, nor imagine why her presence created such excitement among the initiated. Then light dawned on him, and with it came a momentary rush of indignation. No, indeed; no one would have thought the Mingotts would have tried it on!
But they had; they undoubtedly had; for the low- toned comments behind him left no doubt in Archer's mind that the young woman was May Welland's cousin, the cousin always referred to in the family as "poor Ellen Olenska." Archer knew that she had suddenly arrived from Europe a day or two previously; he had even heard from Miss Welland (not disapprovingly) that she had been to see poor Ellen, who was staying with old Mrs. Mingott. Archer entirely approved of family solidarity, and one of the qualities he most admired in the Mingotts was their resolute championship of the few black sheep that their blameless stock had produced. There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man's heart, and he was glad that his future wife should not be restrained by false prudery from being kind (in private) to her unhappy cousin; but to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a different thing from producing her in public, at the Opera of all places, and in the very box with the young girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer, was to be announced within a few weeks. No, he felt as old Sillerton Jackson felt; he did not think the Mingotts would have tried it on!
He knew, of course, that whatever man dared (within Fifth Avenue's limits) that old Mrs. Manson Mingott, the Matriarch of the line, would dare. He had always admired the high and mighty old lady, who, in spite of having been only Catherine Spicer of Staten Island, with a father mysteriously discredited, and neither money nor position enough to make people forget it, had allied herself with the head of the wealthy Mingott line, married two of her daughters to "foreigners" (an Italian marquis and an English banker), and put the crowning touch to her audacities by building a large house of pale cream-coloured stone (when brown sandstone seemed as much the only wear as a frock-coat in the afternoon) in an inaccessible wilderness near the Central Park.
Old Mrs. Mingott's foreign daughters had become a legend. They never came back to see their mother, and the latter being, like many persons of active mind and dominating will, sedentary and corpulent in her habit, had philosophically remained at home. But the cream- coloured house (supposed to be modelled on the private hotels of the Parisian aristocracy) was there as a visible proof of her moral courage; and she throned in it, among pre-Revolutionary furniture and souvenirs of the Tuileries of Louis Napoleon (where she had shone in her middle age), as placidly as if there were nothing peculiar in living above Thirty-fourth Street, or in having French windows that opened like doors instead of sashes that pushed up.
Every one (including Mr. Sillerton Jackson) was agreed that old Catherine had never had beauty--a gift which, in the eyes of New York, justified every success, and excused a certain number of failings. Unkind people said that, like her Imperial namesake, she had won her way to success by strength of will and hardness of heart, and a kind of haughty effrontery that was somehow justified by the extreme decency and dignity of her private life. Mr. Manson Mingott had died when she was only twenty-eight, and had "tied up" the money with an additional caution born of the general distrust of the Spicers; but his bold young widow went her way fearlessly, mingled freely in foreign society, married her daughters in heaven knew what corrupt and fashionable circles, hobnobbed with Dukes and Ambassadors, associated familiarly with Papists, entertained Opera singers, and was the intimate friend of Mme. Taglioni; and all the while (as Sillerton Jackson was the first to proclaim) there had never been a breath on her reputation; the only respect, he always added, in which she differed from the earlier Catherine.
Mrs. Manson Mingott had long since succeeded in untying her husband's fortune, and had lived in affluence for half a century; but memories of her early straits had made her excessively thrifty, and though, when she bought a dress or a piece of furniture, she took care that it should be of the best, she could not bring herself to spend much on the transient pleasures of the table. Therefore, for totally different reasons, her food was as poor as Mrs. Archer's, 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: "What's the use of two good cooks in one family, now that I've married the girls and can't 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 Olenska's 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's 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?"
"Well--she left him; nobody attempts to deny that."
"He's an awful brute, isn't he?" continued the young enquirer, a candid Thorley, who was evidently preparing to enter the lists as the lady's champion.
"The very worst; I knew him at Nice," said Lawrence Lefferts with authority. "A half-paralysed white sneering fellow--rather handsome head, but eyes with a lot of lashes. Well, I'll tell you the sort: when he wasn't 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 champion's face fell.
"It didn't 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. That's all right--but this parading her at the Opera's another thing."
"Perhaps," young Thorley hazarded, "she's 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."
"Well--it's queer to have brought Miss Welland, anyhow," some one said in a low tone, with a side- glance at Archer.
"Oh, that's part of the campaign: Granny's 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. Mingott's box, to proclaim to the waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her through whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous situation might involve her in; this impulse had abruptly overruled all scruples and hesitations, and sent him hurrying through the red corridors to the farther side of the house.
As he entered the box his eyes met Miss Welland's, and he saw that she had instantly understood his motive, though the family dignity which both considered so high a virtue would not permit her to tell him so. The persons of their world lived in an atmosphere of faint implications and pale delicacies, and the fact that he and she understood each other without a word seemed to the young man to bring them nearer than any explanation would have done. Her eyes said: "You see why Mamma brought me," and his answered: "I would not for the world have had you stay away."
"You know my niece Countess Olenska?" Mrs. Welland enquired as she shook hands with her future son- in-law. Archer bowed without extending his hand, as was the custom on being introduced to a lady; and Ellen Olenska bent her head slightly, keeping her own pale-gloved hands clasped on her huge fan of eagle feathers. Having greeted Mrs. Lovell Mingott, a large blonde lady in creaking satin, he sat down beside his betrothed, and said in a low tone: "I hope you've told Madame Olenska that we're engaged? I want everybody to know--I want you to let me announce it this evening at the ball."
Miss Welland's face grew rosy as the dawn, and she looked at him with radiant eyes. "If you can persuade Mamma," she said; "but why should we change what is already settled?" He made no answer but that which his eyes returned, and she added, still more confidently smiling: "Tell my cousin yourself: I give you leave. She says she used to play with you when you were children."
She made way for him by pushing back her chair, and promptly, and a little ostentatiously, with the desire that the whole house should see what he was doing, Archer seated himself at the Countess Olenska's side.
"We DID use to play together, didn't we?" she asked, turning her grave eyes to his. "You were a horrid boy, and kissed me once behind a door; but it was your cousin Vandie Newland, who never looked at me, that I was in love with." Her glance swept the horse-shoe curve of boxes. "Ah, how this brings it all back to me--I see everybody here in knickerbockers and pantalettes," she said, with her trailing slightly foreign accent, her eyes returning to his face.
Agreeable as their expression was, the young man was shocked that they should reflect so unseemly a picture of the august tribunal before which, at that very moment, her case was being tried. Nothing could be in worse taste than misplaced flippancy; and he answered somewhat stiffly: "Yes, you have been away a very long time."
"Oh, centuries and centuries; so long," she said, "that I'm sure I'm dead and buried, and this dear old place is heaven;" which, for reasons he could not define, struck Newland Archer as an even more disrespectful way of describing New York society.