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Updated: June 28, 2025
There was nothing on earth that the Wellands and Mingotts would not have done to proclaim their unalterable affection for the Countess Olenska now that her passage for Europe was engaged; and Archer, at the head of his table, sat marvelling at the silent untiring activity with which her popularity had been retrieved, grievances against her silenced, her past countenanced, and her present irradiated by the family approval.
The Mingotts, the Wellands, the van der Luydens, all your friends and relations: if I didn't show you honestly how they judge such questions, it wouldn't be fair of me, would it?" He spoke insistently, almost pleading with her in his eagerness to cover up that yawning silence. She said slowly: "No; it wouldn't be fair."
Lovell Mingott's invitations to make cruelly clear their determination not to meet the Countess Olenska. The blow was unexpected; but the Mingotts, as their way was, met it gallantly. Mrs. Lovell Mingott confided the case to Mrs. The New York of Newland Archer's day was a small and slippery pyramid, in which, as yet, hardly a fissure had been made or a foothold gained.
They deduce from vast philosophies and depict society. She gives us the Mingotts, the Mansons, the Van der Luydens society, in its little brownstone New York of the '70's and lets us formulate inductively the code of America. A little canvas is enough for a great picture if the painting is good. Indeed, the only objection I have ever heard urged against Mrs.
Newland Archer, as became a young man of his position, strolled in somewhat late. Beaufort was receiving on the threshold of the crimson drawing-room. Archer was distinctly nervous. He was definitely afraid that the Mingotts might be going too far; that, in fact, they might have Granny Mingott's orders to bring the Countess Olenska to the ball.
Why should she slink about as if it were she who had disgraced herself? She's 'poor Ellen' certainly, because she had the bad luck to make a wretched marriage; but I don't see that that's a reason for hiding her head as if she were the culprit." "That, I suppose," said Mr. Jackson, speculatively, "is the line the Mingotts mean to take." The young man reddened.
Reggie Chivers, the Merry girls, and divers rosy Thorleys, Dagonets and Mingotts, stood behind her in a lovely anxious group, brown heads and golden bent above the scores, and pale muslins and flower-wreathed hats mingled in a tender rainbow.
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