Епоха невинності

           Jacksonleanedbackinhischair,andglancedupatthecandlelitArchers,NewlandsandvanderLuydenshangingindarkframesonthedarkwalls."Ah,howyourgrandfatherArcherlovedagooddinner,mydearNewland!"hesaid,hiseyesontheportraitofaplumpfull-chestedyoungmaninastockandabluecoat,withaviewofawhite-columnedcountry-housebehindhim."Well—well—well...Iwonderwhathewouldhavesaidtoalltheseforeignmarriages!"Mrs.ArcherignoredtheallusiontotheancestralcuisineandMr.Jacksoncontinuedwithdeliberation:"No,shewasNOTattheball.""Ah—"Mrs.Archermurmured,inatonethatimplied:"Shehadthatdecency.""PerhapstheBeaufortsdon’tknowher,"Janeysuggested,withherartlessmalice.Mr.Jacksongaveafaintsip,asifhehadbeentastinginvisibleMadeira."Mrs.Beaufortmaynot—butBeaufortcertainlydoes,forshewasseenwalkingupFifthAvenuethisafternoonwithhimbythewholeofNewYork.""Mercy—"moanedMrs.Archer,evidentlyperceivingtheuselessnessoftryingtoascribetheactionsofforeignerstoasenseofdelicacy."Iwonderifshewearsaroundhatorabonnetintheafternoon,"Janeyspeculated."AttheOperaIknowshehadondarkbluevelvet,perfectlyplainandflat—likeanight-gown.""Janey!"saidhermother;andMissArcherblushedandtriedtolookaudacious."Itwas,atanyrate,inbettertastenottogototheball,"Mrs.Archercontinued.Aspiritofperversitymovedhersontorejoin:"Idon’tthinkitwasaquestionoftastewithher.