The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton (android based ebook reader .txt) 📕

“Don’t you want them to be real sooner? Can’t I persuade you to break away now?”

She bowed her head, vanishing from him under her conniving hat-brim.

“Why should we dream away another year? Look at me, dear! Don’t you understand how I want you for my wife?”

For a moment she remained motionless; then she raised on him eyes of such despairing dearness that he half-released her waist from his hold. But suddenly her look changed and deepened inscrutably. “I’m not sure if I do understand,” she said. “Is it⁠—is it because you’re not certain of continuing to care for me?”

Archer sprang up from his seat. “My God⁠—perhaps⁠—I don’t know,” he broke out angrily.

May Welland rose also; as they faced each other she seemed to grow in womanly stature and dignity. Both were silent for a moment, as if dismayed by the unforeseen trend of their words: then she said in a low voice: “If that is it⁠—is there someone else?”

“Someone else⁠—between you and me?” He echoed her words slowly, as though they were only half-intelligible and he wanted time to repeat the question to himself. She seemed to catch the uncertainty of his voice, for she went on in a deepening tone: “Let us talk frankly, Newland. Sometimes I’ve felt a difference in you; especially since our engagement has been announced.”

“Dear⁠—what madness!” he recovered himself to exclaim.

She met his protest with a faint smile. “If it is, it won’t hurt us to talk about it.” She paused, and added, lifting her head with one of her noble movements: “Or even if it’s true: why shouldn’t we speak of it? You might so easily have made a mistake.”

He lowered his head, staring at the black leaf-pattern on the sunny path at their feet. “Mistakes are always easy to make; but if I had made one of the kind you suggest, is it likely that I should be imploring you to hasten our marriage?”

She looked downward too, disturbing the pattern with the point of her sunshade while she struggled for expression. “Yes,” she said at length. “You might want⁠—once for all⁠—to settle the question: it’s one way.”

Her quiet lucidity startled him, but did not mislead him into thinking her insensible. Under her hat-brim he saw the pallor of her profile, and a slight tremor of the nostril above her resolutely steadied lips.

“Well⁠—?” he questioned, sitting down on the bench, and looking up at her with a frown that he tried to make playful.

She dropped back into her seat and went on: “You mustn’t think that a girl knows as little as her parents imagine. One hears and one notices⁠—one has one’s feelings and ideas. And of course, long before you told me that you cared for me, I’d known that there was someone else you were interested in; everyone was talking about it two years ago at Newport. And once I saw you sitting together on the verandah at a dance⁠—and when she came back into the house her face was sad, and I felt sorry for her; I remembered it afterward, when we were engaged.”

Her voice had sunk almost to a whisper, and she sat clasping and unclasping her hands about the handle of her sunshade. The young man laid his upon them with a gentle pressure; his heart dilated with an inexpressible relief.

“My dear child⁠—was that it? If you only knew the truth!”

She raised her head quickly. “Then there is a truth I don’t know?”

He kept his hand over hers. “I meant, the truth about the old story you speak of.”

“But that’s what I want to know, Newland⁠—what I ought to know. I couldn’t have my happiness made out of a wrong⁠—an unfairness⁠—to somebody else. And I want to believe that it would be the same with you. What sort of a life could we build on such foundations?”

Her face had taken on a look of such tragic courage that he felt like bowing himself down at her feet. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time,” she went on. “I’ve wanted to tell you that, when two people really love each other, I understand that there may be situations which make it right that they should⁠—should go against public opinion. And if you feel yourself in any way pledged⁠ ⁠… pledged to the person we’ve spoken of⁠ ⁠… and if there is any way⁠ ⁠… any way in which you can fulfill your pledge⁠ ⁠… even by her getting a divorce⁠ ⁠… Newland, don’t give her up because of me!”

His surprise at discovering that her fears had fastened upon an episode so remote and so completely of the past as his love-affair with Mrs. Thorley Rushworth gave way to wonder at the generosity of her view. There was something superhuman in an attitude so recklessly unorthodox, and if other problems had not pressed on him he would have been lost in wonder at the prodigy of the Wellands’ daughter urging him to marry his former mistress. But he was still dizzy with the glimpse of the precipice they had skirted, and full of a new awe at the mystery of young-girlhood.

For a moment he could not speak; then he said: “There is no pledge⁠—no obligation whatever⁠—of the kind you think. Such cases don’t always⁠—present themselves quite as simply as⁠ ⁠… But that’s no matter⁠ ⁠… I love your generosity, because I feel as you do about those things⁠ ⁠… I feel that each case must be judged individually, on its own merits⁠ ⁠… irrespective of stupid conventionalities⁠ ⁠… I mean, each woman’s right to her liberty⁠—” He pulled himself up, startled by the turn his thoughts had taken, and went on, looking at her with a smile: “Since you understand so many things, dearest, can’t you go a little farther, and understand the uselessness of our submitting to another form of the same foolish conventionalities? If there’s no one and nothing between us, isn’t that an argument for marrying quickly, rather than for more delay?”

She flushed with joy and lifted her face to his; as he bent to it