The house of mirth

The Project Gutenberg EBook of House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: House of Mirth Author: Edith Wharton Release Date: April 3, 2008 [EBook #284] [Last updated: January 12, 2014] Language: English *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOUSE OF MIRTH *** The House of Mirth BY EDITH WHARTON CONTENTS BOOK ONE CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 12 BOOK TWO CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 12 BOOK ONE Chapter 1 Selden paused in surprise In the afternoon rush of the Grand Central Station his eyes had been refreshed by the sight of Miss Lily Bart It was a Monday in early September, and he was returning to his work from a hurried dip into the country; but what was Miss Bart doing in town at that season? If she had appeared to be catching a train, he might have inferred that he had come on her in the act of transition between one and another of the countryhouses which disputed her presence after the close of the Newport season; but her desultory air perplexed him She stood apart from the crowd, letting it drift by her to the platform or the street, and wearing an air of irresolution which might, as he surmised, be the mask of a very definite purpose It struck him at once that she was waiting for some one, but he hardly knew why the idea arrested him There was nothing new about Lily Bart, yet he could never see her without a faint movement of interest: it was characteristic of her that she always roused speculation, that her simplest acts seemed the result of far-reaching intentions An impulse of curiosity made him turn out of his direct line to the door, and stroll past her He knew that if she did not wish to be seen she would contrive to elude him; and it amused him to think of putting her skill to the test "Mr Selden—what good luck!" She came forward smiling, eager almost, in her resolve to intercept him One or two persons, in brushing past them, lingered to look; for Miss Bart was a figure to arrest even the suburban traveller rushing to his last train Selden had never seen her more radiant Her vivid head, relieved against the dull tints of the crowd, made her more conspicuous than in a ball-room, and under her dark hat and veil she regained the girlish smoothness, the purity of tint, that she was beginning to lose after eleven years of late hours and indefatigable dancing Was it really eleven years, Selden found himself wondering, and had she indeed reached the nine-and-twentieth birthday with which her rivals credited her? "What luck!" she repeated "How nice of you to come to my rescue!" He responded joyfully that to do so was his mission in life, and asked what form the rescue was to take "Oh, almost any—even to sitting on a bench and talking to me One sits out a cotillion—why not sit out a train? It isn't a bit hotter here than in Mrs Van Osburgh's conservatory—and some of the women are not a bit uglier." She broke off, laughing, to explain that she had come up to town from Tuxedo, on her way to the Gus Trenors' at Bellomont, and had missed the three-fifteen train to Rhinebeck "And there isn't another till half-past five." She consulted the little jewelled watch among her laces "Just two hours to wait And I don't know what to do with myself My maid came up this morning to do some shopping for me, and was to go on to Bellomont at one o'clock, and my aunt's house is closed, and I don't know a soul in town." She glanced plaintively about the station "It IS hotter than Mrs Van Osburgh's, after all If you can spare the time, do take me somewhere for a breath of air." He declared himself entirely at her disposal: the adventure struck him as diverting As a spectator, he had always enjoyed Lily Bart; and his course lay so far out of her orbit that it amused him to be drawn for a moment into the sudden intimacy which her proposal implied "Shall we go over to Sherry's for a cup of tea?" She smiled assentingly, and then made a slight grimace "So many people come up to town on a Monday—one is sure to meet a lot of bores I'm as old as the hills, of course, and it ought not to make any difference; but if I'M old enough, you're not," she objected gaily "I'm dying for tea—but isn't there a quieter place?" He answered her smile, which rested on him vividly Her discretions interested him almost as much as her imprudences: he was so sure that both were part of the same carefully-elaborated plan In judging Miss Bart, he had always made use of the "argument from design." "The resources of New York are rather meagre," he said; "but I'll find a hansom first, and then we'll invent something." He led her through the throng of returning holiday-makers, past sallow-faced girls in preposterous hats, and flatchested women struggling with paper bundles and palm-leaf fans Was it possible that she belonged to the same race? The dinginess, the crudity of this average section of womanhood made him feel how highly specialized she was A rapid shower had cooled the air, and clouds still hung refreshingly over the moist street "How delicious! Let us walk a little," she said as they emerged from the station They turned into Madison Avenue and began to stroll northward As she moved beside him, with her long light step, Selden was conscious of taking a luxurious pleasure in her nearness: in the modelling of her little ear, the crisp upward wave of her hair—was it ever so slightly brightened by art?—and the thick planting of her straight black lashes Everything about her was at once vigorous and exquisite, at once strong and fine He had a confused sense that she must have cost a great deal to make, that a great many dull and ugly people must, in some mysterious way, have been sacrificed to produce her He was aware that the qualities distinguishing her from the herd of her sex were chiefly external: as though a fine glaze of beauty and fastidiousness had been applied to vulgar clay Yet the analogy left him unsatisfied, for a coarse texture will not take a high finish; and was it not possible that the material was fine, but that circumstance had fashioned it into a futile shape? As he reached this point in his speculations the sun came out, and her lifted parasol cut off his enjoyment A moment or two later she paused with a sigh "Oh, dear, I'm so hot and thirsty—and what a hideous place New York is!" She looked despairingly up and down the dreary thoroughfare "Other cities put on their best clothes in summer, but New York seems to sit in its shirtsleeves." Her eyes wandered down one of the side-streets "Someone has had the humanity to plant a few trees over there Let us go into the shade." "I am glad my street meets with your approval," said Selden as they turned was the cheque in her desk, for instance—she meant to use it in paying her debt to Trenor; but she foresaw that when the morning came she would put off doing so, would slip into gradual tolerance of the debt The thought terrified her—she dreaded to fall from the height of her last moment with Lawrence Selden But how could she trust herself to keep her footing? She knew the strength of the opposing impulses-she could feel the countless hands of habit dragging her back into some fresh compromise with fate She felt an intense longing to prolong, to perpetuate, the momentary exaltation of her spirit If only life could end now— end on this tragic yet sweet vision of lost possibilities, which gave her a sense of kinship with all the loving and foregoing in the world! She reached out suddenly and, drawing the cheque from her writing-desk, enclosed it in an envelope which she addressed to her bank She then wrote out a cheque for Trenor, and placing it, without an accompanying word, in an envelope inscribed with his name, laid the two letters side by side on her desk After that she continued to sit at the table, sorting her papers and writing, till the intense silence of the house reminded her of the lateness of the hour In the street the noise of wheels had ceased, and the rumble of the "elevated" came only at long intervals through the deep unnatural hush In the mysterious nocturnal separation from all outward signs of life, she felt herself more strangely confronted with her fate The sensation made her brain reel, and she tried to shut out consciousness by pressing her hands against her eyes But the terrible silence and emptiness seemed to symbolize her future—she felt as though the house, the street, the world were all empty, and she alone left sentient in a lifeless universe But this was the verge of delirium … she had never hung so near the dizzy brink of the unreal Sleep was what she wanted—she remembered that she had not closed her eyes for two nights The little bottle was at her bed-side, waiting to lay its spell upon her She rose and undressed hastily, hungering now for the touch of her pillow She felt so profoundly tired that she thought she must fall asleep at once; but as soon as she had lain down every nerve started once more into separate wakefulness It was as though a great blaze of electric light had been turned on in her head, and her poor little anguished self shrank and cowered in it, without knowing where to take refuge She had not imagined that such a multiplication of wakefulness was possible: her whole past was reenacting itself at a hundred different points of consciousness Where was the drug that could still this legion of insurgent nerves? The sense of exhaustion would have been sweet compared to this shrill beat of activities; but weariness had dropped from her as though some cruel stimulant had been forced into her veins She could bear it—yes, she could bear it; but what strength would be left her the next day? Perspective had disappeared—the next day pressed close upon her, and on its heels came the days that were to follow—they swarmed about her like a shrieking mob She must shut them out for a few hours; she must take a brief bath of oblivion She put out her hand, and measured the soothing drops into a glass; but as she did so, she knew they would be powerless against the supernatural lucidity of her brain She had long since raised the dose to its highest limit, but tonight she felt she must increase it She knew she took a slight risk in doing so—she remembered the chemist's warning If sleep came at all, it might be a sleep without waking But after all that was but one chance in a hundred: the action of the drug was incalculable, and the addition of a few drops to the regular dose would probably do no more than procure for her the rest she so desperately needed She did not, in truth, consider the question very closely—the physical craving for sleep was her only sustained sensation Her mind shrank from the glare of thought as instinctively as eyes contract in a blaze of light—darkness, darkness was what she must have at any cost She raised herself in bed and swallowed the contents of the glass; then she blew out her candle and lay down She lay very still, waiting with a sensuous pleasure for the first effects of the soporific She knew in advance what form they would take—the gradual cessation of the inner throb, the soft approach of passiveness, as though an invisible hand made magic passes over her in the darkness The very slowness and hesitancy of the effect increased its fascination: it was delicious to lean over and look down into the dim abysses of unconsciousness Tonight the drug seemed to work more slowly than usual: each passionate pulse had to be stilled in turn, and it was long before she felt them dropping into abeyance, like sentinels falling asleep at their posts But gradually the sense of complete subjugation came over her, and she wondered languidly what had made her feel so uneasy and excited She saw now that there was nothing to be excited about— she had returned to her normal view of life Tomorrow would not be so difficult after all: she felt sure that she would have the strength to meet it She did not quite remember what it was that she had been afraid to meet, but the uncertainty no longer troubled her She had been unhappy, and now she was happy—she had felt herself alone, and now the sense of loneliness had vanished She stirred once, and turned on her side, and as she did so, she suddenly understood why she did not feel herself alone It was odd—but Nettie Struther's child was lying on her arm: she felt the pressure of its little head against her shoulder She did not know how it had come there, but she felt no great surprise at the fact, only a gentle penetrating thrill of warmth and pleasure She settled herself into an easier position, hollowing her arm to pillow the round downy head, and holding her breath lest a sound should disturb the sleeping child As she lay there she said to herself that there was something she must tell Selden, some word she had found that should make life clear between them She tried to repeat the word, which lingered vague and luminous on the far edge of thought—she was afraid of not remembering it when she woke; and if she could only remember it and say it to him, she felt that everything would be well Slowly the thought of the word faded, and sleep began to enfold her She struggled faintly against it, feeling that she ought to keep awake on account of the baby; but even this feeling was gradually lost in an indistinct sense of drowsy peace, through which, of a sudden, a dark flash of loneliness and terror tore its way She started up again, cold and trembling with the shock: for a moment she seemed to have lost her hold of the child But no—she was mistaken—the tender pressure of its body was still close to hers: the recovered warmth flowed through her once more, she yielded to it, sank into it, and slept Chapter 14 The next morning rose mild and bright, with a promise of summer in the air The sunlight slanted joyously down Lily's street, mellowed the blistered housefront, gilded the paintless railings of the door-step, and struck prismatic glories from the panes of her darkened window When such a day coincides with the inner mood there is intoxication in its breath; and Selden, hastening along the street through the squalor of its morning confidences, felt himself thrilling with a youthful sense of adventure He had cut loose from the familiar shores of habit, and launched himself on uncharted seas of emotion; all the old tests and measures were left behind, and his course was to be shaped by new stars That course, for the moment, led merely to Miss Bart's boarding-house; but its shabby door-step had suddenly become the threshold of the untried As he approached he looked up at the triple row of windows, wondering boyishly which one of them was hers It was nine o'clock, and the house, being tenanted by workers, already showed an awakened front to the street He remembered afterward having noticed that only one blind was down He noticed too that there was a pot of pansies on one of the window sills, and at once concluded that the window must be hers: it was inevitable that he should connect her with the one touch of beauty in the dingy scene Nine o'clock was an early hour for a visit, but Selden had passed beyond all such conventional observances He only knew that he must see Lily Bart at once —he had found the word he meant to say to her, and it could not wait another moment to be said It was strange that it had not come to his lips sooner—that he had let her pass from him the evening before without being able to speak it But what did that matter, now that a new day had come? It was not a word for twilight, but for the morning Selden ran eagerly up the steps and pulled the bell; and even in his state of self-absorption it came as a sharp surprise to him that the door should open so promptly It was still more of a surprise to see, as he entered, that it had been opened by Gerty Farish—and that behind her, in an agitated blur, several other figures ominously loomed "Lawrence!" Gerty cried in a strange voice, "how could you get here so quickly?"—and the trembling hand she laid on him seemed instantly to close about his heart He noticed the other faces, vague with fear and conjecture—he saw the landlady's imposing bulk sway professionally toward him; but he shrank back, putting up his hand, while his eyes mechanically mounted the steep black walnut stairs, up which he was immediately aware that his cousin was about to lead him A voice in the background said that the doctor might be back at any minute— and that nothing, upstairs, was to be disturbed Some one else exclaimed: "It was the greatest mercy—" then Selden felt that Gerty had taken him gently by the hand, and that they were to be suffered to go up alone In silence they mounted the three flights, and walked along the passage to a closed door Gerty opened the door, and Selden went in after her Though the blind was down, the irresistible sunlight poured a tempered golden flood into the room, and in its light Selden saw a narrow bed along the wall, and on the bed, with motionless hands and calm unrecognizing face, the semblance of Lily Bart That it was her real self, every pulse in him ardently denied Her real self had lain warm on his heart but a few hours earlier—what had he to with this estranged and tranquil face which, for the first time, neither paled nor brightened at his coming? Gerty, strangely tranquil too, with the conscious self-control of one who has ministered to much pain, stood by the bed, speaking gently, as if transmitting a final message "The doctor found a bottle of chloral—she had been sleeping badly for a long time, and she must have taken an overdose by mistake There is no doubt of that—no doubt—there will be no question—he has been very kind I told him that you and I would like to be left alone with her—to go over her things before any one else comes I know it is what she would have wished." Selden was hardly conscious of what she said He stood looking down on the sleeping face which seemed to lie like a delicate impalpable mask over the living lineaments he had known He felt that the real Lily was still there, close to him, yet invisible and inaccessible; and the tenuity of the barrier between them mocked him with a sense of helplessness There had never been more than a little impalpable barrier between them—and yet he had suffered it to keep them apart! And now, though it seemed slighter and frailer than ever, it had suddenly hardened to adamant, and he might beat his life out against it in vain He had dropped on his knees beside the bed, but a touch from Gerty aroused him He stood up, and as their eyes met he was struck by the extraordinary light in his cousin's face "You understand what the doctor has gone for? He has promised that there shall be no trouble—but of course the formalities must be gone through And I asked him to give us time to look through her things first——" He nodded, and she glanced about the small bare room "It won't take long," she concluded "No—it won't take long," he agreed She held his hand in hers a moment longer, and then, with a last look at the bed, moved silently toward the door On the threshold she paused to add: "You will find me downstairs if you want me." Selden roused himself to detain her "But why are you going? She would have wished——" Gerty shook her head with a smile "No: this is what she would have wished ——" and as she spoke a light broke through Selden's stony misery, and he saw deep into the hidden things of love The door closed on Gerty, and he stood alone with the motionless sleeper on the bed His impulse was to return to her side, to fall on his knees, and rest his throbbing head against the peaceful cheek on the pillow They had never been at peace together, they two; and now he felt himself drawn downward into the strange mysterious depths of her tranquillity But he remembered Gerty's warning words—he knew that, though time had ceased in this room, its feet were hastening relentlessly toward the door Gerty had given him this supreme half-hour, and he must use it as she willed He turned and looked about him, sternly compelling himself to regain his consciousness of outward things There was very little furniture in the room The shabby chest of drawers was spread with a lace cover, and set out with a few gold-topped boxes and bottles, a rose-coloured pin-cushion, a glass tray strewn with tortoise-shell hair-pins—he shrank from the poignant intimacy of these trifles, and from the blank surface of the toilet-mirror above them These were the only traces of luxury, of that clinging to the minute observance of personal seemliness, which showed what her other renunciations must have cost There was no other token of her personality about the room, unless it showed itself in the scrupulous neatness of the scant articles of furniture: a washing-stand, two chairs, a small writing-desk, and the little table near the bed On this table stood the empty bottle and glass, and from these also he averted his eyes The desk was closed, but on its slanting lid lay two letters which he took up One bore the address of a bank, and as it was stamped and sealed, Selden, after a moment's hesitation, laid it aside On the other letter he read Gus Trenor's name; and the flap of the envelope was still ungummed Temptation leapt on him like the stab of a knife He staggered under it, steadying himself against the desk Why had she been writing to Trenor— writing, presumably, just after their parting of the previous evening? The thought unhallowed the memory of that last hour, made a mock of the word he had come to speak, and defiled even the reconciling silence upon which it fell He felt himself flung back on all the ugly uncertainties from which he thought he had cast loose forever After all, what did he know of her life? Only as much as she had chosen to show him, and measured by the world's estimate, how little that was! By what right—the letter in his hand seemed to ask—by what right was it he who now passed into her confidence through the gate which death had left unbarred? His heart cried out that it was by right of their last hour together, the hour when she herself had placed the key in his hand Yes—but what if the letter to Trenor had been written afterward? He put it from him with sudden loathing, and setting his lips, addressed himself resolutely to what remained of his task After all, that task would be easier to perform, now that his personal stake in it was annulled He raised the lid of the desk, and saw within it a cheque-book and a few packets of bills and letters, arranged with the orderly precision which characterized all her personal habits He looked through the letters first, because it was the most difficult part of the work They proved to be few and unimportant, but among them he found, with a strange commotion of the heart, the note he had written her the day after the Brys' entertainment "When may I come to you?"—his words overwhelmed him with a realization of the cowardice which had driven him from her at the very moment of attainment Yes—he had always feared his fate, and he was too honest to disown his cowardice now; for had not all his old doubts started to life again at the mere sight of Trenor's name? He laid the note in his card-case, folding it away carefully, as something made precious by the fact that she had held it so; then, growing once more aware of the lapse of time, he continued his examination of the papers To his surprise, he found that all the bills were receipted; there was not an unpaid account among them He opened the cheque-book, and saw that, the very night before, a cheque of ten thousand dollars from Mrs Peniston's executors had been entered in it The legacy, then, had been paid sooner than Gerty had led him to expect But, turning another page or two, he discovered with astonishment that, in spite of this recent accession of funds, the balance had already declined to a few dollars A rapid glance at the stubs of the last cheques, all of which bore the date of the previous day, showed that between four or five hundred dollars of the legacy had been spent in the settlement of bills, while the remaining thousands were comprehended in one cheque, made out, at the same time, to Charles Augustus Trenor Selden laid the book aside, and sank into the chair beside the desk He leaned his elbows on it, and hid his face in his hands The bitter waters of life surged high about him, their sterile taste was on his lips Did the cheque to Trenor explain the mystery or deepen it? At first his mind refused to act—he felt only the taint of such a transaction between a man like Trenor and a girl like Lily Bart Then, gradually, his troubled vision cleared, old hints and rumours came back to him, and out of the very insinuations he had feared to probe, he constructed an explanation of the mystery It was true, then, that she had taken money from Trenor; but true also, as the contents of the little desk declared, that the obligation had been intolerable to her, and that at the first opportunity she had freed herself from it, though the act left her face to face with bare unmitigated poverty That was all he knew—all he could hope to unravel of the story The mute lips on the pillow refused him more than this—unless indeed they had told him the rest in the kiss they had left upon his forehead Yes, he could now read into that farewell all that his heart craved to find there; he could even draw from it courage not to accuse himself for having failed to reach the height of his opportunity He saw that all the conditions of life had conspired to keep them apart; since his very detachment from the external influences which swayed her had increased his spiritual fastidiousness, and made it more difficult for him to live and love uncritically But at least he HAD loved her—had been willing to stake his future on his faith in her—and if the moment had been fated to pass from them before they could seize it, he saw now that, for both, it had been saved whole out of the ruin of their lives It was this moment of love, this fleeting victory over themselves, which had kept them from atrophy and extinction; which, in her, had reached out to him in every struggle against the influence of her surroundings, and in him, had kept alive the faith that now drew him penitent and reconciled to her side He knelt by the bed and bent over her, draining their last moment to its lees; and in the silence there passed between them the word which made all clear THE END Notes: I have modernized this text by modernizing the contractions: do n't becomes don't, etc I have retained the British spelling of words like favour and colour I found and corrected one instance of the name "Gertie," which I changed to "Gerty" to be consistent with rest of the book Linda Ruoff End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOUSE OF MIRTH *** ***** This file should be named 284-h.htm or 284-h.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/284/ Updated editions will replace the previous one the old editions will be renamed Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying 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She began to saunter about the room, examining the bookshelves between the puffs of her cigarette-smoke Some of the volumes had the ripe tints of good tooling and old morocco, and her eyes lingered on them caressingly, not with the appreciation of the expert, but with the pleasure in agreeable tones and textures... when they gratified her sense of beauty and her craving for the external finish of life; there were others when they gave a sharper edge to the meagreness of her own opportunities This was one of. .. conversation was the only means of escape that she knew Her search was rewarded by the discovery of a very blond young man with a soft reddish beard, who, at the other end of the carriage, appeared