IV + 

The next morning, on her breakfast tray, Miss Bart found a note from her hostess. + 

тАЬDearest Lily,тАЭ it ran, тАЬif it is not too much of a bore to be down by ten, will you come to my sitting-room to help me with some tiresome things?тАЭ + 

Lily tossed aside the note and subsided on her pillows with a sigh. It was a bore to be down by tenтБатАФan hour regarded at Bellomont as vaguely synchronous with sunriseтБатАФand she knew too well the nature of the tiresome things in question. Miss Pragg, the secretary, had been called away, and there would be notes and dinner-cards to write, lost addresses to hunt up, and other social drudgery to perform. It was understood that Miss Bart should fill the gap in such emergencies, and she usually recognized the obligation without a murmur. + 

Today, however, it renewed the sense of servitude which the previous nightтАЩs review of her chequebook had produced. Everything in her surroundings ministered to feelings of ease and amenity. The windows stood open to the sparkling freshness of the September morning, and between the yellow boughs she caught a perspective of hedges and parterres leading by degrees of lessening formality to the free undulations of the park. Her maid had kindled a little fire on the hearth, and it contended cheerfully with the sunlight which slanted across the moss-green carpet and caressed the curved sides of an old marquetry desk. Near the bed stood a table holding her breakfast tray, with its harmonious porcelain and silver, a handful of violets in a slender glass, and the morning paper folded beneath her letters. There was nothing new to Lily in these tokens of a studied luxury; but, though they formed a part of her atmosphere, she never lost her sensitiveness to their charm. Mere display left her with a sense of superior distinction; but she felt an affinity to all the subtler manifestations of wealth. + 

Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs summons, however, suddenly recalled her state of dependence, and she rose and dressed in a mood of irritability that she was usually too prudent to indulge. She knew that such emotions leave lines on the face as well as in the character, and she had meant to take warning by the little creases which her midnight survey had revealed. + 

The matter-of-course tone of Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs greeting deepened her irritation. If one did drag oneтАЩs self out of bed at such an hour, and come down fresh and radiant to the monotony of note-writing, some special recognition of the sacrifice seemed fitting. But Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs tone showed no consciousness of the fact. + 

тАЬOh, Lily, thatтАЩs nice of you,тАЭ she merely sighed across the chaos of letters, bills and other domestic documents which gave an incongruously commercial touch to the slender elegance of her writing-table. + 

тАЬThere are such lots of horrors this morning,тАЭ she added, clearing a space in the centre of the confusion and rising to yield her seat to Miss Bart. + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor was a tall fair woman, whose height just saved her from redundancy. Her rosy blondness had survived some forty years of futile activity without showing much trace of ill-usage except in a diminished play of feature. It was difficult to define her beyond saying that she seemed to exist only as a hostess, not so much from any exaggerated instinct of hospitality as because she could not sustain life except in a crowd. The collective nature of her interests exempted her from the ordinary rivalries of her sex, and she knew no more personal emotion than that of hatred for the woman who presumed to give bigger dinners or have more amusing house-parties than herself. As her social talents, backed by Mr.┬аTrenorтАЩs bank-account, almost always assured her ultimate triumph in such competitions, success had developed in her an unscrupulous good nature toward the rest of her sex, and in Miss BartтАЩs utilitarian classification of her friends, Mrs.┬аTrenor ranked as the woman who was least likely to тАЬgo backтАЭ on her. + 

тАЬIt was simply inhuman of Pragg to go off now,тАЭ Mrs.┬аTrenor declared, as her friend seated herself at the desk. тАЬShe says her sister is going to have a babyтБатАФas if that were anything to having a house-party! IтАЩm sure I shall get most horribly mixed up and there will be some awful rows. When I was down at Tuxedo I asked a lot of people for next week, and IтАЩve mislaid the list and canтАЩt remember who is coming. And this week is going to be a horrid failure tooтБатАФand Gwen Van Osburgh will go back and tell her mother how bored people were. I did mean to ask the WetherallsтБатАФthat was a blunder of GusтАЩs. They disapprove of Carry Fisher, you know. As if one could help having Carry Fisher! It was foolish of her to get that second divorceтБатАФCarry always overdoes thingsтБатАФbut she said the only way to get a penny out of Fisher was to divorce him and make him pay alimony. And poor Carry has to consider every dollar. ItтАЩs really absurd of Alice Wetherall to make such a fuss about meeting her, when one thinks of what society is coming to. Someone said the other day that there was a divorce and a case of appendicitis in every family one knows. Besides, Carry is the only person who can keep Gus in a good humour when we have bores in the house. Have you noticed that all the husbands like her? All, I mean, except her own. ItтАЩs rather clever of her to have made a specialty of devoting herself to dull peopleтБатАФthe field is such a large one, and she has it practically to herself. She finds compensations, no doubtтБатАФI know she borrows money of GusтБатАФbut then IтАЩd pay her to keep him in a good humour, so I canтАЩt complain, after all.тАЭ + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor paused to enjoy the spectacle of Miss BartтАЩs efforts to unravel her tangled correspondence. + 

тАЬBut it is only the Wetheralls and Carry,тАЭ she resumed, with a fresh note of lament. тАЬThe truth is, IтАЩm awfully disappointed in Lady Cressida Raith.тАЭ + 

тАЬDisappointed? Had you known her before?тАЭ + 

тАЬMercy, noтБатАФnever saw her till yesterday. Lady Skiddaw sent her over with letters to the Van Osburghs, and I heard that Maria Van Osburgh was asking a big party to meet her this week, so I thought it would be fun to get her away, and Jack Stepney, who knew her in India, managed it for me. Maria was furious, and actually had the impudence to make Gwen invite herself here, so that they shouldnтАЩt be quite out of itтБатАФif IтАЩd known what Lady Cressida was like, they could have had her and welcome! But I thought any friend of the SkiddawsтАЩ was sure to be amusing. You remember what fun Lady Skiddaw was? There were times when I simply had to send the girls out of the room. Besides, Lady Cressida is the Duchess of BeltshireтАЩs sister, and I naturally supposed she was the same sort; but you never can tell in those English families. They are so big that thereтАЩs room for all kinds, and it turns out that Lady Cressida is the moral oneтБатАФmarried a clergyman and does missionary work in the East End. Think of my taking such a lot of trouble about a clergymanтАЩs wife, who wears Indian jewelry and botanizes! She made Gus take her all through the glasshouses yesterday, and bothered him to death by asking him the names of the plants. Fancy treating Gus as if he were the gardener!тАЭ + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor brought this out in a crescendo of indignation. + 

тАЬOh, well, perhaps Lady Cressida will reconcile the Wetheralls to meeting Carry Fisher,тАЭ said Miss Bart pacifically. + 

тАЬIтАЩm sure I hope so! But she is boring all the men horribly, and if she takes to distributing tracts, as I hear she does, it will be too depressing. The worst of it is that she would have been so useful at the right time. You know we have to have the Bishop once a year, and she would have given just the right tone to things. I always have horrid luck about the BishopтАЩs visits,тАЭ added Mrs.┬аTrenor, whose present misery was being fed by a rapidly rising tide of reminiscence; тАЬlast year, when he came, Gus forgot all about his being here, and brought home the Ned Wintons and the FarleysтБатАФfive divorces and six sets of children between them!тАЭ + 

тАЬWhen is Lady Cressida going?тАЭ Lily enquired. + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor cast up her eyes in despair. тАЬMy dear, if one only knew! I was in such a hurry to get her away from Maria that I actually forgot to name a date, and Gus says she told someone she meant to stop here all winter.тАЭ + 

тАЬTo stop here? In this house?тАЭ + 

тАЬDonтАЩt be sillyтБатАФin America. But if no one else asks herтБатАФyou know they never go to hotels.тАЭ + 

тАЬPerhaps Gus only said it to frighten you.тАЭ + 

тАЬNoтБатАФI heard her tell Bertha Dorset that she had six months to put in while her husband was taking the cure in the Engadine. You should have seen Bertha look vacant! But itтАЩs no joke, you knowтБатАФif she stays here all the autumn sheтАЩll spoil everything, and Maria Van Osburgh will simply exult.тАЭ + 

At this affecting vision Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs voice trembled with self-pity. + 

тАЬOh, JudyтБатАФas if anyone were ever bored at Bellomont!тАЭ Miss Bart tactfully protested. тАЬYou know perfectly well that, if Mrs.┬аVan Osburgh were to get all the right people and leave you with all the wrong ones, youтАЩd manage to make things go off, and she wouldnтАЩt.тАЭ + 

Such an assurance would usually have restored Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs complacency; but on this occasion it did not chase the cloud from her brow. + 

тАЬIt isnтАЩt only Lady Cressida,тАЭ she lamented. тАЬEverything has gone wrong this week. I can see that Bertha Dorset is furious with me.тАЭ + 

тАЬFurious with you? Why?тАЭ + 

тАЬBecause I told her that Lawrence Selden was coming; but he wouldnтАЩt, after all, and sheтАЩs quite unreasonable enough to think itтАЩs my fault.тАЭ + 

Miss Bart put down her pen and sat absently gazing at the note she had begun. + 

тАЬI thought that was all over,тАЭ she said. + 

тАЬSo it is, on his side. And of course Bertha has been idle since. But I fancy sheтАЩs out of a job just at presentтБатАФand someone gave me a hint that I had better ask Lawrence. Well, I did ask himтБатАФbut I couldnтАЩt make him come; and now I suppose sheтАЩll take it out of me by being perfectly nasty to everyone else.тАЭ + 

тАЬOh, she may take it out of him by being perfectly charmingтБатАФto someone else.тАЭ + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor shook her head dolefully. тАЬShe knows he wouldnтАЩt mind. And who else is there? Alice Wetherall wonтАЩt let Lucius out of her sight. Ned Silverton canтАЩt take his eyes off Carry FisherтБатАФpoor boy! Gus is bored by Bertha, Jack Stepney knows her too wellтБатАФandтБатАФwell, to be sure, thereтАЩs Percy Gryce!тАЭ + 

She sat up smiling at the thought. + 

Miss BartтАЩs countenance did not reflect the smile. + 

тАЬOh, she and Mr.┬аGryce would not be likely to hit it off.тАЭ + 

тАЬYou mean that sheтАЩd shock him and heтАЩd bore her? Well, thatтАЩs not such a bad beginning, you know. But I hope she wonтАЩt take it into her head to be nice to him, for I asked him here on purpose for you.тАЭ + 

Lily laughed. тАЬMerci du compliment! I should certainly have no show against Bertha.тАЭ + 

тАЬDo you think I am uncomplimentary? IтАЩm not really, you know. Everyone knows youтАЩre a thousand times handsomer and cleverer than Bertha; but then youтАЩre not nasty. And for always getting what she wants in the long run, commend me to a nasty woman.тАЭ + 

Miss Bart stared in affected reproval. тАЬI thought you were so fond of Bertha.тАЭ + 

тАЬOh, I amтБатАФitтАЩs much safer to be fond of dangerous people. But she is dangerousтБатАФand if I ever saw her up to mischief itтАЩs now. I can tell by poor GeorgeтАЩs manner. That man is a perfect barometerтБатАФhe always knows when Bertha is going toтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬTo fall?тАЭ Miss Bart suggested. + 

тАЬDonтАЩt be shocking! You know he believes in her still. And of course I donтАЩt say thereтАЩs any real harm in Bertha. Only she delights in making people miserable, and especially poor George.тАЭ + 

тАЬWell, he seems cut out for the partтБатАФI donтАЩt wonder she likes more cheerful companionship.тАЭ + 

тАЬOh, George is not as dismal as you think. If Bertha did worry him he would be quite different. Or if sheтАЩd leave him alone, and let him arrange his life as he pleases. But she doesnтАЩt dare lose her hold of him on account of the money, and so when he isnтАЩt jealous she pretends to be.тАЭ + 

Miss Bart went on writing in silence, and her hostess sat following her train of thought with frowning intensity. + 

тАЬDo you know,тАЭ she exclaimed after a long pause, тАЬI believe IтАЩll call up Lawrence on the telephone and tell him he simply must come?тАЭ + 

тАЬOh, donтАЩt,тАЭ said Lily, with a quick suffusion of colour. The blush surprised her almost as much as it did her hostess, who, though not commonly observant of facial changes, sat staring at her with puzzled eyes. + 

тАЬGood gracious, Lily, how handsome you are! Why? Do you dislike him so much?тАЭ + 

тАЬNot at all; I like him. But if you are actuated by the benevolent intention of protecting me from BerthaтБатАФI donтАЩt think I need your protection.тАЭ + 

Mrs.┬аTrenor sat up with an exclamation. тАЬLily!тБатАФPercy? Do you mean to say youтАЩve actually done it?тАЭ + 

Miss Bart smiled. тАЬI only mean to say that Mr.┬аGryce and I are getting to be very good friends.тАЭ + 

тАЬHтАЩmтБатАФI see.тАЭ Mrs.┬аTrenor fixed a rapt eye upon her. тАЬYou know they say he has eight hundred thousand a yearтБатАФand spends nothing, except on some rubbishy old books. And his mother has heart-disease and will leave him a lot more. Oh, Lily, do go slowly,тАЭ her friend adjured her. + 

Miss Bart continued to smile without annoyance. тАЬI shouldnтАЩt, for instance,тАЭ she remarked, тАЬbe in any haste to tell him that he had a lot of rubbishy old books.тАЭ + 

тАЬNo, of course not; I know youтАЩre wonderful about getting up peopleтАЩs subjects. But heтАЩs horribly shy, and easily shocked, andтБатАФandтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬWhy donтАЩt you say it, Judy? I have the reputation of being on the hunt for a rich husband?тАЭ + 

тАЬOh, I donтАЩt mean that; he wouldnтАЩt believe it of youтБатАФat first,тАЭ said Mrs.┬аTrenor, with candid shrewdness. тАЬBut you know things are rather lively here at timesтБатАФI must give Jack and Gus a hintтБатАФand if he thought you were what his mother would call fastтБатАФoh, well, you know what I mean. DonтАЩt wear your scarlet crepe de chine for dinner, and donтАЩt smoke if you can help it, Lily dear!тАЭ + 

Lily pushed aside her finished work with a dry smile. тАЬYouтАЩre very kind, Judy: IтАЩll lock up my cigarettes and wear that last yearтАЩs dress you sent me this morning. And if you are really interested in my career, perhaps youтАЩll be kind enough not to ask me to play bridge again this evening.тАЭ + 

тАЬBridge? Does he mind bridge, too? Oh, Lily, what an awful life youтАЩll lead! But of course I wonтАЩtтБатАФwhy didnтАЩt you give me a hint last night? ThereтАЩs nothing I wouldnтАЩt do, you poor duck, to see you happy!тАЭ + 

And Mrs.┬аTrenor, glowing with her sexтАЩs eagerness to smooth the course of true love, enveloped Lily in a long embrace. + 

тАЬYouтАЩre quite sure,тАЭ she added solicitously, as the latter extricated herself, тАЬthat you wouldnтАЩt like me to telephone for Lawrence Selden?тАЭ + 

тАЬQuite sure,тАЭ said Lily. + 

The next three days demonstrated to her own complete satisfaction Miss BartтАЩs ability to manage her affairs without extraneous aid. + 

As she sat, on the Saturday afternoon, on the terrace at Bellomont, she smiled at Mrs.┬аTrenorтАЩs fear that she might go too fast. If such a warning had ever been needful, the years had taught her a salutary lesson, and she flattered herself that she now knew how to adapt her pace to the object of pursuit. In the case of Mr.┬аGryce she had found it well to flutter ahead, losing herself elusively and luring him on from depth to depth of unconscious intimacy. The surrounding atmosphere was propitious to this scheme of courtship. Mrs.┬аTrenor, true to her word, had shown no signs of expecting Lily at the bridge-table, and had even hinted to the other cardplayers that they were to betray no surprise at her unwonted defection. In consequence of this hint, Lily found herself the centre of that feminine solicitude which envelops a young woman in the mating season. A solitude was tacitly created for her in the crowded existence of Bellomont, and her friends could not have shown a greater readiness for self-effacement had her wooing been adorned with all the attributes of romance. In LilyтАЩs set this conduct implied a sympathetic comprehension of her motives, and Mr.┬аGryce rose in her esteem as she saw the consideration he inspired. + 

The terrace at Bellomont on a September afternoon was a spot propitious to sentimental musings, and as Miss Bart stood leaning against the balustrade above the sunken garden, at a little distance from the animated group about the tea-table, she might have been lost in the mazes of an inarticulate happiness. In reality, her thoughts were finding definite utterance in the tranquil recapitulation of the blessings in store for her. From where she stood she could see them embodied in the form of Mr.┬аGryce, who, in a light overcoat and muffler, sat somewhat nervously on the edge of his chair, while Carry Fisher, with all the energy of eye and gesture with which nature and art had combined to endow her, pressed on him the duty of taking part in the task of municipal reform. + 

Mrs.┬аFisherтАЩs latest hobby was municipal reform. It had been preceded by an equal zeal for socialism, which had in turn replaced an energetic advocacy of Christian Science. Mrs.┬аFisher was small, fiery and dramatic; and her hands and eyes were admirable instruments in the service of whatever causes she happened to espouse. She had, however, the fault common to enthusiasts of ignoring any slackness of response on the part of her hearers, and Lily was amused by her unconsciousness of the resistance displayed in every angle of Mr.┬аGryceтАЩs attitude. Lily herself knew that his mind was divided between the dread of catching cold if he remained out of doors too long at that hour, and the fear that, if he retreated to the house, Mrs.┬аFisher might follow him up with a paper to be signed. Mr.┬аGryce had a constitutional dislike to what he called тАЬcommitting himself,тАЭ and tenderly as he cherished his health, he evidently concluded that it was safer to stay out of reach of pen and ink till chance released him from Mrs.┬аFisherтАЩs toils. Meanwhile he cast agonized glances in the direction of Miss Bart, whose only response was to sink into an attitude of more graceful abstraction. She had learned the value of contrast in throwing her charms into relief, and was fully aware of the extent to which Mrs.┬аFisherтАЩs volubility was enhancing her own repose. + 

She was roused from her musings by the approach of her cousin Jack Stepney who, at Gwen Van OsburghтАЩs side, was returning across the garden from the tennis court. + 

The couple in question were engaged in the same kind of romance in which Lily figured, and the latter felt a certain annoyance in contemplating what seemed to her a caricature of her own situation. Miss Van Osburgh was a large girl with flat surfaces and no high lights: Jack Stepney had once said of her that she was as reliable as roast mutton. His own taste was in the line of less solid and more highly-seasoned diet; but hunger makes any fare palatable, and there had been times when Mr.┬аStepney had been reduced to a crust. + 

Lily considered with interest the expression of their faces: the girlтАЩs turned toward her companionтАЩs like an empty plate held up to be filled, while the man lounging at her side already betrayed the encroaching boredom which would presently crack the thin veneer of his smile. + 

тАЬHow impatient men are!тАЭ Lily reflected. тАЬAll Jack has to do to get everything he wants is to keep quiet and let that girl marry him; whereas I have to calculate and contrive, and retreat and advance, as if I were going through an intricate dance, where one misstep would throw me hopelessly out of time.тАЭ + 

As they drew nearer she was whimsically struck by a kind of family likeness between Miss Van Osburgh and Percy Gryce. There was no resemblance of feature. Gryce was handsome in a didactic wayтБатАФhe looked like a clever pupilтАЩs drawing from a plaster-castтБатАФwhile GwenтАЩs countenance had no more modelling than a face painted on a toy balloon. But the deeper affinity was unmistakable: the two had the same prejudices and ideals, and the same quality of making other standards nonexistent by ignoring them. This attribute was common to most of LilyтАЩs set: they had a force of negation which eliminated everything beyond their own range of perception. Gryce and Miss Van Osburgh were, in short, made for each other by every law of moral and physical correspondenceтБатАФтАЬYet they wouldnтАЩt look at each other,тАЭ Lily mused, тАЬthey never do. Each of them wants a creature of a different race, of JackтАЩs race and mine, with all sorts of intuitions, sensations and perceptions that they donтАЩt even guess the existence of. And they always get what they want.тАЭ + 

She stood talking with her cousin and Miss Van Osburgh, till a slight cloud on the latterтАЩs brow advised her that even cousinly amenities were subject to suspicion, and Miss Bart, mindful of the necessity of not exciting enmities at this crucial point of her career, dropped aside while the happy couple proceeded toward the tea-table. + 

Seating herself on the upper step of the terrace, Lily leaned her head against the honeysuckles wreathing the balustrade. The fragrance of the late blossoms seemed an emanation of the tranquil scene, a landscape tutored to the last degree of rural elegance. In the foreground glowed the warm tints of the gardens. Beyond the lawn, with its pyramidal pale-gold maples and velvety firs, sloped pastures dotted with cattle; and through a long glade the river widened like a lake under the silver light of September. Lily did not want to join the circle about the tea-table. They represented the future she had chosen, and she was content with it, but in no haste to anticipate its joys. The certainty that she could marry Percy Gryce when she pleased had lifted a heavy load from her mind, and her money troubles were too recent for their removal not to leave a sense of relief which a less discerning intelligence might have taken for happiness. Her vulgar cares were at an end. She would be able to arrange her life as she pleased, to soar into that empyrean of security where creditors cannot penetrate. She would have smarter gowns than Judy Trenor, and far, far more jewels than Bertha Dorset. She would be free forever from the shifts, the expedients, the humiliations of the relatively poor. Instead of having to flatter, she would be flattered; instead of being grateful, she would receive thanks. There were old scores she could pay off as well as old benefits she could return. And she had no doubts as to the extent of her power. She knew that Mr.┬аGryce was of the small chary type most inaccessible to impulses and emotions. He had the kind of character in which prudence is a vice, and good advice the most dangerous nourishment. But Lily had known the species before: she was aware that such a guarded nature must find one huge outlet of egoism, and she determined to be to him what his Americana had hitherto been: the one possession in which he took sufficient pride to spend money on it. She knew that this generosity to self is one of the forms of meanness, and she resolved so to identify herself with her husbandтАЩs vanity that to gratify her wishes would be to him the most exquisite form of self-indulgence. The system might at first necessitate a resort to some of the very shifts and expedients from which she intended it should free her; but she felt sure that in a short time she would be able to play the game in her own way. How should she have distrusted her powers? Her beauty itself was not the mere ephemeral possession it might have been in the hands of inexperience: her skill in enhancing it, the care she took of it, the use she made of it, seemed to give it a kind of permanence. She felt she could trust it to carry her through to the end. + 

And the end, on the whole, was worthwhile. Life was not the mockery she had thought it three days ago. There was room for her, after all, in this crowded selfish world of pleasure whence, so short a time since, her poverty had seemed to exclude her. These people whom she had ridiculed and yet envied were glad to make a place for her in the charmed circle about which all her desires revolved. They were not as brutal and self-engrossed as she had fanciedтБатАФor rather, since it would no longer be necessary to flatter and humour them, that side of their nature became less conspicuous. Society is a revolving body which is apt to be judged according to its place in each manтАЩs heaven; and at present it was turning its illuminated face to Lily. + 

In the rosy glow it diffused her companions seemed full of amiable qualities. She liked their elegance, their lightness, their lack of emphasis: even the self-assurance which at times was so like obtuseness now seemed the natural sign of social ascendency. They were lords of the only world she cared for, and they were ready to admit her to their ranks and let her lord it with them. Already she felt within her a stealing allegiance to their standards, an acceptance of their limitations, a disbelief in the things they did not believe in, a contemptuous pity for the people who were not able to live as they lived. + 

The early sunset was slanting across the park. Through the boughs of the long avenue beyond the gardens she caught the flash of wheels, and divined that more visitors were approaching. There was a movement behind her, a scattering of steps and voices: it was evident that the party about the tea-table was breaking up. Presently she heard a tread behind her on the terrace. She supposed that Mr.┬аGryce had at last found means to escape from his predicament, and she smiled at the significance of his coming to join her instead of beating an instant retreat to the fireside. + 

She turned to give him the welcome which such gallantry deserved; but her greeting wavered into a blush of wonder, for the man who had approached her was Lawrence Selden. + 

тАЬYou see I came after all,тАЭ he said; but before she had time to answer, Mrs.┬аDorset, breaking away from a lifeless colloquy with her host, had stepped between them with a little gesture of appropriation. + 