Book I
7. Chapter VII.
(continued)
"I'm certain of it, sir. Larry has been going it rather
harder than usual lately--if cousin Louisa won't mind
my mentioning it--having rather a stiff affair with the
postmaster's wife in their village, or some one of that
sort; and whenever poor Gertrude Lefferts begins to
suspect anything, and he's afraid of trouble, he gets up
a fuss of this kind, to show how awfully moral he is,
and talks at the top of his voice about the impertinence
of inviting his wife to meet people he doesn't wish her
to know. He's simply using Madame Olenska as a
lightning-rod; I've seen him try the same thing often
before."
"The LEFFERTSES!--" said Mrs. van der Luyden.
"The LEFFERTSES!--" echoed Mrs. Archer. "What would
uncle Egmont have said of Lawrence Lefferts's
pronouncing on anybody's social position? It shows what
Society has come to."
"We'll hope it has not quite come to that," said Mr.
van der Luyden firmly.
"Ah, if only you and Louisa went out more!" sighed
Mrs. Archer.
But instantly she became aware of her mistake. The
van der Luydens were morbidly sensitive to any criticism
of their secluded existence. They were the arbiters
of fashion, the Court of last Appeal, and they knew it,
and bowed to their fate. But being shy and retiring
persons, with no natural inclination for their part, they
lived as much as possible in the sylvan solitude of
Skuytercliff, and when they came to town, declined all
invitations on the plea of Mrs. van der Luyden's health.
Newland Archer came to his mother's rescue.
"Everybody in New York knows what you and cousin
Louisa represent. That's why Mrs. Mingott felt she
ought not to allow this slight on Countess Olenska to
pass without consulting you."
Mrs. van der Luyden glanced at her husband, who
glanced back at her.
"It is the principle that I dislike," said Mr. van der
Luyden. "As long as a member of a well-known family
is backed up by that family it should be considered--
final."
|