There was a general laugh, and the young champion said:  "Well, then——?" 

 "Well, then; she bolted with his secretary." 

 "Oh, I see."  The champion's face fell. 

 "It didn't last long, though: I heard of her a few months later living alone in Venice. I believe Lovell Mingott went out to get her. He said she was desperately unhappy. That's all right—but this parading her at the Opera's another thing." 

 "Perhaps," young Thorley hazarded, "she's too unhappy to be left at home." 

 This was greeted with an irreverent laugh, and the youth blushed deeply, and tried to look as if he had meant to insinuate what knowing people called a "double entendre." 

 "Well—it's queer to have brought Miss Welland, anyhow," some one said in a low tone, with a side-glance at Archer. 

 "Oh, that's part of the campaign: Granny's orders, no doubt," Lefferts laughed.  "When the old lady does a thing she does it thoroughly." 

 The act was ending, and there was a general stir in the box. Suddenly Newland Archer felt himself impelled to decisive action. The desire to be the first man to enter Mrs. Mingott's box, to proclaim to the waiting world his engagement to May Welland, and to see her through whatever difficulties her cousin's anomalous situation might involve her in; this impulse had abruptly overruled all scruples and hesitations, and sent him hurrying through the red corridors to the farther side of the house. 

 As he entered the box his eyes met Miss Welland's, and he saw that she had instantly understood his motive, though the family dignity which both considered so high a virtue would not permit her to tell him so. The persons of their world lived in an atmosphere of faint implications and pale delicacies, and the fact that he and she understood each other without a word seemed to the young man to bring them nearer than any explanation would have done. Her eyes said:  "You see why Mamma brought me," and his answered:  "I would not for the world have had you stay away." 

 "You know my niece Countess Olenska?" Mrs. Welland enquired as she shook hands with her future son-in-law. Archer bowed without extending his hand, as was the custom on being introduced to a lady; and Ellen Olenska bent her head slightly, keeping her own pale-gloved hands clasped on her huge fan of eagle feathers. Having greeted Mrs. Lovell 

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