“That is a monstrous accusation,” she said.
“You married me under false pretenses,” I said.
Etna pulled a pin from her hair. She sometimes did this in moments of private anguish. “I did not,” she said. “You never asked about my former life.”
“It is understood that such a thing is to be confessed before marriage,” I said, somewhat distracted by the sight of the cascade of acorn-colored hair falling from the undone knot.
“And did you not have lovers before me?” she asked, shaking her hair along her shoulders.
“Don’t be absurd, Etna. That is hardly the point.”
“It’s very much the point,” she said. “You have had your freedom.”
“I don’t want my freedom,” I shouted quite truthfully. “Since the day I met you, I have wanted no freedom.”
“But I have wanted mine!”
I stood in a panic of irresolution. “Where do they go?” I asked, pointing to a narrow flight of stairs.
“To another room. An attic room,” she said, as I pushed past her. “But there is nothing up there.”
The stairs were so steep, I had to use my hands. When I got to the top, I looked around and saw an attic room with gabled sides that allowed me to stand only in its center spine. It was sparsely furnished, though there were curtains on the windows at either end. There was a white iron bedstead with a mattress and a sewing machine cabinet. At the foot of the iron bed was a cedar chest. I opened it and saw a folded quilt. I recognized the quilt as one that had once been on our marriage bed.
I sank to my knees and put my head in my hands.
After a time, I walked back down the stairs. Etna was still standing near the sink.
“I assume you know that Phillip Asher is a Jew,” I said.
She blinked. “Yes, of course,” she said after a moment. “You took a Jew as a lover?”
Her mouth opened and then closed. “This is beneath you, Nicholas,” she said.
“I’m amazed, Etna. I didn’t think you capable of such a thing.”
She was angry now. “How can you think my heart and mind not capable of accepting a Jewish man?” she asked, her voice rising. “Of loving him?”
“The heart may love, but the mind does not,” I said fatuously. “The heart has no mind, and the mind has no heart. They are two separate organs, often at war with each other.”
“You are deluded,” she said. “Your own mind, certainly, is wanting.”
“My heart is wanting, and I mean that in another way entirely. You knew that Phillip Asher was a Jew, and yet you said nothing, even though it may have aided my candidacy to do so?” I asked.
“Stop this!” she cried. “You are a fool, Nicholas.”
“This is grounds for divorce,” I said.
The room went deathly quiet, as if awed by the pronouncement.
“You would not divorce me,” Etna said.
“I would,” I said.
(But why had I said such a thing? I wondered. I did not want a divorce. No, no, it was the last thing I wanted.)
“You are too rash,” Etna said, and I noticed that her hands were shaking.
“It is you who have been rash.”
She backed up a step and sat on the Chinese grass chair. The strength in her legs had at last deserted her.
“You have been coming here secretly for eleven months,” I said. “That was rash. You have lied to your husband. That was rash.”
Etna shook her head. “A divorce is a most unhappy act,” I said, bending to pick up my hat from the floor.
Etna made a sound, and if it was a plea, I do not know, for I had opened the door, walked out into the cold, and started down the driveway. I found the motorcar as a blind man will make his way to a house he does not want to enter. I opened the door and sat down. I gripped the steering wheel and would have shaken it loose from its mooring if I had had the strength. I flung myself back against the tufted leather seat, and as I did so, a quotation from Paradise Lost rose up through the earth and the floorboards of the motorcar and mocked me with its precision.
…yet well, if here would end
The misery, I deserv’d it, and would bear
My own deservings.
(Book X, 11. 725–727; Adam speaking; in despair over the lost glorious world; knowing his descendants will curse him; wanting only death. Some of Milton’s better lines, I think.)
The Hotel Thrupp
October 19, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
This is a difficult matter I write about, and forgive me if I assume unhappiness where none exists, but after having seen your face in Mr. Ferald’s hallway tonight, as we were all waiting for our carriages and motorcars to be brought around, I cannot think other than that you were shocked to find me in that house. I had met Professor Van Tassel earlier in the day, but I did not know that he was your husband. Indeed, I did not know that you had married. I write to say that however pleasant it was to see you again, it was never my intention to cause either you or your husband any distress by my appearance in Thrupp. Had I known that you resided here, I assure you I would not have accepted the kind offer of the college to deliver the Kitchner Lectures.
Having committed to this series, however, I find myself in Thrupp for the duration of the term. Worse, it would appear that both your husband and I have been invited to apply to the post of Dean of the Faculty of Thrupp College. After seeing you this evening, I am determined to excuse myself from consideration of the post and to return to New Haven as soon as the lectures are over.
With warmest expressions of good will,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
October 20, 1914
Dear Professor Asher,
Thank you for your kind letter of October 19. It is generous of you to offer to excuse yourself from consideration for the post of Dean of the Faculty of Thrupp College, but please understand that if it were in my power to do so, under no circumstances would I ever permit this. Indeed, I should take it as an insult were you to leave Thrupp on my account. Though I believe my husband to be the best candidate for the post, his petition, and ultimate success, would be tarnished were his competitor to have left because of a distant encounter with his wife. Please assure me at your earliest opportunity that you will do no such thing.
Very respectfully yours, Etna Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
October 21, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
Thank you for your prompt reply to my letter of October 19. I will honor your request, though I am not at all confident that this is the right course of action. (It would appear that the deliverer of the Kitchner Lectures on the nature of private gain vs. public good is no more able to answer a simple question of common decency than is a student.) Since that evening at Mr. Ferald’s reception, I have wished that I had never heard of the Kitchner Lectures. My family has caused you enough distress, and I do not want to add to it in any way.
I had occasion yesterday to meet your husband in the Hotel Thrupp. We had a pleasant chat, and as I had no indication from him that he knew anything of past difficulties between you and my family, I said nothing to him at that time. It was an awkward moment, however, one that may cause a breach of trust in the near future. It would appear that I am to dine with you at your house on Sunday. Since it is entirely your decision how I should proceed in this matter, I await your reply.
Your most devoted,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
October 22, 1914
Dear Professor Asher,
To answer your letter of October 21, I should just like to say that it was not your family who caused me distress. Nor was it your brother. What distress I suffered was entirely my own, and I alone am responsible for it. I was of sufficient age to understand the consequences of my actions and to accept them. Indeed, I have reason to be grateful to your brother and to the circumstances of leaving him. A marriage to Mr. Bass of Brockton would have been
disastrous for any number of reasons. My relationship to your brother Samuel put a necessary, if difficult, end to that betrothal, for which I will always be glad.
As to the matter of my husband and future trust, I see no reason to discuss with him an incident of so long ago. I hope that you will come to our house on Sunday and that my husband and I will come to know you as the Phillip Asher who has so recently arrived in Thrupp.
With much respect,Etna Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
October 30, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I wish to express my deepest sympathies upon the death of your uncle, William Bliss. Although, sadly, I did not know the man, the high esteem in which he was held by the entire Thrupp College community is only too evident. If I may be of service to you in any way during this difficult time, please do not hesitate to let me know.
Your obedient servant,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
November 14, 1914
Dear Professor Asher,
Forgive me for having taken so long to acknowledge your kind letter of sympathy. My uncle William was a loving husband, devoted father, and an esteemed professor. He will be much missed. I am sorry, too, that you were not able to meet him. I am sure the two of you would have enjoyed each other’s company.
Your humble friend,Etna Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
November 16, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I should not like to intrude upon your period of mourning except to say that I am sorry I did not attend the funeral service of William Bliss. I thought, under the circumstances, it would be best to stay away.
With perfect consideration for your loss,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
November 18, 1914
Dear Mr. Asher,
I assure you that you gave us no offense by not attending my uncle’s funeral service. There were many there to mourn him, including, we were most gratified to see, a good number of his former students. This was, I think, a great testament to his success as a teacher of physics.
I do not know when next my husband and I shall be able to invite you to our house for dinner. I find that I have been hit unexpectedly hard by the loss of my uncle. Why, I do not know, since I had ample warning of his death. It seems to have opened a vein of feeling that I thought I had successfully closed. My father died shortly after the unhappy incident with your brother, and I think those two events and this one are linked in my heart.
I hope your brother is well. I should be grateful for any news of him.
Affectionately yours, Etna Bliss Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
November 20, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
My brother is in London, having been seconded to the Admiralty for the duration of the war in Europe. All that he is able to tell us about his work is that it has to do with astronomy and navigation, which, as you may recall, was his field when he was teaching at Exeter. My brother emigrated to Toronto shortly after his relationship with you ended. He has been a professor of Astronomy and Navigation in Toronto since 1897. Samuel’s wife, Ardith, and their four children will remain in that city until such time as it is safe to travel to London. We all pray for a swift and just end to the conflict in Europe.
I must tell you that the memory of your arrival at my parents’ home on that snowy January morning is among the most meaningful of my early adulthood. It was on that day that I first glimpsed the ferocity of love that lies behind the veil of polite comportment. It was a terrible moment for all concerned, but one which I have carried with me for years. I cannot condone or entirely forgive my brother’s behavior that day, nor have I ever understood it. Indeed, it was years before we were able to have an honest conversation or correspondence.
Believe me affectionately yours,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
November 23, 1914
Dear Mr. Asher,
I am deeply sorry to learn that I was, however peripherally, the cause of a rift between you and your brother. I hope such a rift is well and truly healed. Samuel and I had a difficult, not to say impossible, situation, and he did what he felt was entirely necessary. Over time, I have come to understand that decision and make peace with it. Samuel had many wonderful qualities, and I loved him deeply. Whatever you saw on my face that day was genuine.
I do not remember seeing you in that house on that snowy morning. I daresay that my mission and my subsequent unhappiness blinded me to the presence of everyone but your brother. I do remember a tennis game at the school courts, however. As I recall, you hit the ball well over the fence and out onto the street.
I hope you will have a pleasant Thanksgiving in Thrupp, though I am sure you will miss your family in Exeter.
Your humble friend,Etna Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
November 24, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I am pleasantly embarrassed to think you recall that dreadful shot into the street. I confess I have never been an accomplished tennis player.
Your husband has sent round a note just now asking me to your house for a drink at half past five o’clock tonight. I feel I cannot decline, but I wish I could speak with you on the matter before I go. I look forward to seeing you should you be there this evening.
In the matter to which we have been referring in our previous correspondence, let me just say that the sight of your face on that morning so many years ago has remained for me a standard by which I judge my own affection for any woman with whom I am close, and the affection of any woman for me. I count you among the most fortunate of persons to have felt so strongly for another human being, however unhappy the outcome. Is this not the point of our existence?
Your devoted,
Phillip Asher
The Hotel Thrupp
November 25, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I scarcely know what to write to you this morning. Though your husband was in no way inhospitable, it was clear to me last evening that he very much minds my presence in Thrupp. Indeed, he delivered what can only be taken as an ultimatum. It has made me realize how inappropriate it is for me to continue to write to you. It causes me great sadness to have to say this, but I do not think we can continue this correspondence, innocent though it has been.
It was a pleasure to see you — however briefly — last night at your home. Permit me to say that you have grown only more lovely with the years.
Yours in affection,
Phillip Asher
Holyoke Street
November 27, 1914
Dear Mr. Asher,
I am very sorry if there was any unpleasantness between you and my husband, Nicholas. I cannot enter into that debate, nor do I wish to know any more about it. While you might be right about my husband’s distress were he to discover this correspondence, I trust I am capable of determining on my own whether or not it should continue.
Sincerely,Etna Van Tassel
The Hotel Thrupp
November 29, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I did not mean to insult your independence or judgment. Forgive me if I have. But it cannot have escaped your notice that we are in possession of facts about which your husband has no knowledge. While this correspondence has been, as I say, innocent enough, the fact of it, in light of his feelings toward me, so recently revealed, cannot be entirely blameless. Nevertheless, I shall follow your lead in this matter, since I cannot presume to know your husband or your marriage as you do. Indeed, I do not know either him or it at all.
I spent most of the Thanksgiving holiday reading and taking walks. Mr. Ferald and his wife were kind enough to invite me to dine with them at their house for the Thanksgiving meal itself. Though it was only Edward and Millicent and myself, we sat at an elaborate table and partook of a feast such as I have scarcely ever seen. I should not want to sound ungrateful for their hos
pitality, but I did miss, at times, the noisy bustle of a meal in Exeter at our overcrowded table, and I wished I had taken the trouble to travel there and back for the duration of the holiday.
No matter. The term resumes tomorrow, and I am to deliver the fifth and final of the Kitchner Lectures on Wednesday. I shall attend now to my notes.
With perfect consideration,
Phillip Asher
The Hotel Thrupp
December 6, 1914
Dear Mrs. Van Tassel,
I do not know if this will reach you. I had occasion to speak with Gerard Moxon this morning, and he said that you had returned to Exeter. My dear Mrs. Van Tassel, what has happened? Your husband has said publicly that your sister is gravely ill and that you and the children have gone there to tend to her. If this is so, then I cannot say how sorry I am. But I must tell you that Mr. Moxon, in confidence, suggested otherwise. (It is a confidence I promise you I shall share with no one, though I cannot vouch for Mr. Moxon; he is quite innocently incapable of keeping a secret, I think.) Mrs. Van Tassel, I am unhappy for you if what Mr. Moxon says is true. Please write to me to tell me if he and I have got it wrong. I do not wish to pry in any way, and I am sure you have excellent reasons for leaving Thrupp, but if there has been a marital breach, I urge you to repair it by any means. It cannot be good for either you or the children to have been forced to leave your family home.
My distress on your account is exacerbated by the fact that your husband withdrew his candidacy for the position of Dean of Thrupp College, and I was two days ago elected to the post. I have until the eleventh of December to tender my decision. I feel I must have some word from you before I do. I pray that I have not been, in any way, responsible for either a rift between you and Professor Van Tassel or the cause of his change of heart. Please reassure me on this point, and, further, please say if you do not wish me to accept the post, tarnished as it is with the unhappy fact of your husband’s withdrawal. I should not like to take advantage of another man’s difficult situation.