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Her search was rewarded by the discovery of a very blond young man with asoft reddish beard, who, at the other end of the carriage, appeared to bedissembling himself behind an unfolded newspaper. Lily’s eye brightened,and a faint smile relaxed the drawn lines of her mouth. She had knownthat Mr. Percy Gryce was to be at Bellomont, but she had not counted onthe luck of having him to herself in the train; and the fact banished allperturbing thoughts of Mr. Rosedale. Perhaps, after all, the day was toend more favourably than it had begun. She paused a moment before the last name, and shot a query through herlashes; but he remained imperturbable. He had seated himself on an arm of the chair near which she was standing,and she continued to question him, asking which were the rarest volumes,whether the Jefferson Gryce collection was really considered the finestin the world, and what was the largest price ever fetched by a singlevolume.
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—for the privilege of living in a house that belonged to her.She was sure it was not what poor dear cousin Julia would havewished—she had told the executors so to their faces; but they wereinaccessible to reason, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Let Lilytake example by her, and be patient—let them both remember howbeautifully patient cousin Julia had always been. It was over in a moment—the waiter, MENU in hand, still hung on theresult of the choice between COUPE JACQUES and PECHES A LA MELBA—butMiss Bart, in the interval, had taken the measure of her fate. Where JudyTrenor led, all the world would follow; and Lily had the doomed sense ofthe castaway who has signalled in vain to fleeing sails. There was a subdued gasp of surprise, a rapid turning of heads, and asurging of sable figures toward the corner in which Miss Stepney wailedout her sense of unworthiness through the crumpled ball of a black-edgedhandkerchief.
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She had caught at the Brys’ entertainment as an easyimpersonal subject, likely to tide them over the interval till Seldenappeared, but Mr. Rosedale, tenaciously planted beside the tea-table, hishands in his pockets, his legs a little too freely extended, at once gavethe topic a personal turn. I’ll watch here by the fire,and you’ll leave the light, and your door open. All I want is to feelthat you are near me.” She laid both hands on Gerty’s shoulders, with asmile that was like sunrise on a sea strewn with wreckage. Gerty’s affection for her friend—a sentiment that had learned to keepitself alive on the scantiest diet—had grown to active adoration sinceLily’s restless curiosity had drawn her into the circle of Miss Farish’swork.
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Then there were Kauffmann nymphs garlanding the altarof Love; a Veronese supper, all sheeny textures, pearl-woven heads andmarble architecture; and a Watteau group of lute-playing comedians,lounging by a fountain in a sunlit glade. He knew he should have to go slowly, and the instincts of hisrace fitted him to suffer rebuffs and put up with delays. But he wasprompt to perceive that the general dulness of the season afforded him anunusual opportunity to shine, and he set about with patient industry toform a background for his growing glory. She had set off so many newcomers on thesocial stage that she was like one of those pieces of stock scenery whichtell the experienced spectator exactly what is going to take place.
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Once the grotesqueness of the situationaccepted, she had seen at a glance that it was the safest in which Dorsetcould find himself. Who but Selden could thus miraculously combine theskill to save Bertha with the obligation of doing so? The consciousnessthat much skill would be required made Lily rest thankfully in thegreatness of the obligation.
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Something of her mother’s fierce shrinking fromobservation and sympathy was beginning to develop in her, and thepromiscuity of small quarters and close intimacy seemed, on the whole,less endurable than the solitude of a hall bedroom in a house where shecould come and go unremarked among other workers. For a while she hadbeen sustained by this desire for privacy and independence; but now,perhaps from increasing physical weariness, the lassitude brought aboutby hours of unwonted confinement, she was beginning to feel acutely theugliness and discomfort of her surroundings. The day’s task done, shedreaded to return to her narrow room, with its blotched wall-paper andshabby paint; and she hated every step of the walk thither, through thedegradation of a New York street in the last stages of decline fromfashion to commerce. When Lily woke on the morning after her translation to the EmporiumHotel, her first feeling was one of purely physical satisfaction. Theforce of contrast gave an added keenness to the luxury of lying once morein a soft-pillowed bed, and looking across a spacious sunlit room at abreakfast-table set invitingly near the fire.
Notes
When Lily comes to Julia asking for money to pay various debts, including what Lily passes off as gambling debts, Julia refuses. The relationship is permanently damaged, and when Lily sails away with the Dorsets instead of cleaning up the social and financial mess she has made, Julia does not write to Lily or attempt to repair the relationship. When word reaches her that Lily has been publicly accused of having an affair with George Dorset, and when Lily continues to gallivant in Europe instead of returning home, Julia disinherits Lily in favor of the more loyal Grace Stepney. By the time Lily returns to New York, Julia has died, and nobody knows about the disinheritance until her will is read.
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Gillian Anderson Honors Terence Davies, Credits ‘House of Mirth’ Director With ‘My First Proper Film Job’ - Variety
Gillian Anderson Honors Terence Davies, Credits ‘House of Mirth’ Director With ‘My First Proper Film Job’.
Posted: Mon, 09 Oct 2023 07:00:00 GMT [source]
IfLily’s poetic enjoyment of the moment was undisturbed by the base thoughtthat her gown and opera cloak had been indirectly paid for by Gus Trenor,the latter had not sufficient poetry in his composition to lose sight ofthese prosaic facts. A few days after her return to town she had the unpleasant surprise of avisit from Mr. Rosedale. He came late, at the confidential hour when thetea-table still lingers by the fire in friendly expectancy; and hismanner showed a readiness to adapt itself to the intimacy of the occasion.
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Light comes in devious ways to the gropingconsciousness, and it came to her now through the disgusted perceptionthat her would-be accomplice assumed, as a matter of course, thelikelihood of her distrusting him and perhaps trying to cheat him of hisshare of the spoils. This glimpse of his inner mind seemed to present thewhole transaction in a new aspect, and she saw that the essentialbaseness of the act lay in its freedom from risk. She received this with a look from which all tinge of resentment hadfaded. After the tissue of social falsehoods in which she had so longmoved it was refreshing to step into the open daylight of an avowedexpediency. They had been seated for some time in the seclusion of a rocky glen abovethe lake, when she suddenly cut short the culmination of an impassionedperiod by turning upon him the grave loveliness of her gaze.
She had been plunged into new scenes, and had foundin them a renewal of old hopes and ambitions. She was vaguely touched by the names andscenes amid which she moved, and had listened to Ned Silverton readingTheocritus by moonlight, as the yacht rounded the Sicilian promontories,with a thrill of the nerves that confirmed her belief in her intellectualsuperiority. But the weeks at Cannes and Nice had really given her morepleasure. The cushioned chairs, disposedexpectantly under the wide awning, showed no signs of recent occupancy,and she presently learned from a steward that Mrs. Dorset had not yetappeared, and that the gentlemen—separately—had gone ashore as soon asthey had breakfasted.
In Mrs. Peniston’s youth, fashion had returned to town in October;therefore on the tenth day of the month the blinds of her Fifth Avenueresidence were drawn up, and the eyes of the Dying Gladiator in bronzewho occupied the drawing-room window resumed their survey of thatdeserted thoroughfare. It was the moment for tact; for the quick bridging over of gaps; butSelden still leaned against the window, a detached observer of the scene,and under the spell of his observation Lily felt herself powerless toexert her usual arts. The dread of Selden’s suspecting that there was anyneed for her to propitiate such a man as Rosedale checked the trivialphrases of politeness. Rosedale still stood before her in an expectantattitude, and she continued to face him in silence, her glance just levelwith his polished baldness.
Her fibres had been softened by suffering, and thesudden glimpse into his mocked and broken life disarmed her contempt forhis weakness. Dorset, swinging along with bent head, in moody abstraction, did not seeMiss Bart till he was close upon her; but the sight, instead of bringinghim to a halt, as she had half-expected, sent him toward her with aneagerness which found expression in his opening words. Miss Bart went with the Gormers to Alaska; and the expedition, if it didnot produce the effect anticipated by her friend, had at least thenegative advantage of removing her from the fiery centre of criticism anddiscussion. Gerty Farish had opposed the plan with all the energy of hersomewhat inarticulate nature.
If one did drag one’s self out of bed at such an hour, andcome down fresh and radiant to the monotony of note-writing, some specialrecognition of the sacrifice seemed fitting. Those ambitions were hardlymore futile and childish than the earlier ones which had centred aboutthe possession of a French jointed doll with real hair. Was it only tenyears since she had wavered in imagination between the English earl andthe Italian prince?
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