Age of Innocence (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) by Edith Wharton Page B

indeed, struck Newland Archer as having been rather gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of a perfectly irreproachable exis tence, as bodies caught in glaciers keep for years a rosy life-in-death.
    Like all his family, he esteemed and admired Mrs. van der Luyden; but he found her gentle bending sweetness less approachable than the grimness of some of his mother’s old aunts, fierce spinsters who said “No” on principle before they knew what they were going to be asked.
    Mrs. van der Luyden’s attitude said neither yes nor no, but always appeared to incline to clemency till her thin lips, wavering into the shadow of a smile, made the almost invariable reply: “I shall first have to talk this over with my husband.”
    She and Mr. van der Luyden were so exactly alike that Archer often wondered how, after forty years of the closest conjugality, two such merged identities ever separated themselves enough for anything as controversial as a talking-over. But as neither had ever reached a decision without prefacing it by this mysterious conclave, Mrs. Archer and her son, having set forth their case, waited resignedly for the familiar phrase.
    Mrs. van der Luyden, however, who had seldom surprised anyone, now surprised them by reaching her long hand toward the bell-rope.
    “I think,” she said, “I should like Henry to hear what you have told me.”
    A footman appeared, to whom she gravely added: “If Mr. van der Luyden has finished reading the newspaper, please ask him to be kind enough to come.”
    She said “reading the newspaper” in the tone in which a Minister’s wife might have said: “Presiding at a Cabinet meeting”—not from any arrogance of mind, but because the habit of a lifetime, and the attitude of her friends and relations, had led her to consider Mr. van der Luyden’s least gesture as having an almost sacerdotal importance.
    Her promptness of action showed that she considered the case as pressing as Mrs. Archer; but, lest she should be thought to have committed herself in advance, she added with the sweetest look: “Henry always enjoys seeing you, dear Adeline; and he will wish to congratulate Newland.”
    The double doors had solemnly reopened and between them appeared Mr. Henry van der Luyden, tall, spare and frock-coated, with faded fair hair, a straight nose like his wife’s and the same look of frozen gentleness in eyes that were merely pale gray instead of pale blue.
    Mr. van der Luyden greeted Mrs. Archer with cousinly affability, proffered to Newland low-voiced congratulations couched in the same language as his wife‘s, and seated himself in one of the brocade armchairs with the simplicity of a reigning sovereign.
    “I had just finished reading The Times,” he said, laying his long finger-tips together. “In town my mornings are so much occupied that I find it more convenient to read the newspapers after luncheon.”
    “Ah, there’s a great deal to be said for that plan—indeed I think my uncle Egmont used to say he found it less agitating not to read the morning papers till after dinner,” said Mrs. Archer responsively.
    “Yes: my good father abhorred hurry. But now we live in a constant rush,” said Mr. van der Luyden in measured tones, looking with pleasant deliberation about the large shrouded room which to Archer was so complete an image of its owners.
    “But I hope you had finished your reading, Henry?” his wife interposed.
    “Quite—quite,” he reassured her.
    “Then I should like Adeline to tell you—”
    “Oh, it’s really Newland’s story,” said his mother smiling; and proceeded to rehearse once more the monstrous tale of the affront inflicted on Mrs. Lovell Mingott.
    “Of course,” she ended, “Augusta Welland and Mary Mingott both felt that, especially in view of Newland’s engagement, you and Henry ought to know.”
    “Ah—” said Mr. van der Luyden, drawing a deep breath.
    There was a silence during which the tick of the monumental ormolu