Beaufort went bankrupt.

The news swept New York like a storm over a city.

New York society in Archer's day tolerated hypocrisy in personal relationships but demanded honesty in business matters.It had been a long time since a well-known banker had gone bankrupt for failing to keep his word, and everyone remembered the next such incident when even the leading men of the firm were cast aside by society.Whatever might be Mr. Beaufort's power, or Mrs. Beaufort's reputation, the same would have happened to them both.

Regina Beaufort knocked on the door of old Mrs. Manson Mingott.

She was wearing a thick veil, and the servant did not recognize who it was.

The butler recognized the familiar voice, and pushed open the door of the living room to report: "Mrs. Julius Beaufort is here."

Mrs. Beaufort came to ask old Mrs. Manson Mingott to support her husband and help them through this difficult time.

Manson Mingott said: "Fame is reputation after all, and honesty is honesty after all. At the Manson Mingott house, that will never change, unless someone lifts me out of here feet forward."

"But, Auntie, my name--my name is Regina Dallas."

"Your name was Beaufort when Beaufort wrapped you in jewels, and now he's wrapped you in shame, and you have to be Beaufort."

Mrs. Beaufort leaves the Manson Mingott home in despair.

As for Manson Mingott, she couldn't help turning pale when she thought that this kind of shame would sweep the Mingott family, and she sat on her chair precariously.

She had a stroke.

Mrs. Welland, May, and Cornelius hurried to the Mason Mingott's.

Manson Mingott only had a slight stroke, but she could speak clearly and told them the situation at that time.

Mrs. Welland said to Cornelius with tears: "I wish I could keep it from your father-in-law! He's always saying: 'Poor Augusta, don't ruin my last fancy.'— —but how can I keep him from knowing these dreadful things?"

"Mum, he won't see these things after all," May reminded.

Mrs. Welland sighed: "Ah, yes; thank God he's safe in his bed. Dr. Bencomb promised to keep him there until poor mother got better. And Regina is gone."

Cornelius sat at the window, gazing blankly at the deserted street.Evidently, he had been called in more to give moral support to the wretched wives than because he could offer any concrete help.Telegrams had been sent to Mr. Lovell Mingott, and messages to family members in New York were being sent.All the while there was nothing but whispers of Beaufort's disgrace and the consequences of his wife's injustice.

Cornelius didn't know much about the rules of high society in New York, and he didn't want to. He only cared about his Rosa and Tulip.

He came here and has not planted any more black tulips. Tulips cost him Rosa.

Mrs. Lovell Mingott had been writing in the other room, and now came to join the discussion.The older wives agreed that in their day a man who had been disgraced in business had only one thought for his wife: to retire and disappear with him.

"Poor Grandma Spicer—your great-grandmother, May—is an example. Of course," Mrs. Welland added hastily, "your great-grandfather's financial difficulties are personal in nature—lost at cards, or borrowed To someone else--I never knew very well, because my mother never would tell. But she was brought up in the country, and her mother had to leave New York because of some disgrace, whatever it was. They were alone Lived on the upper Hudson, year after year, until my mom was 16. Grandma Spicer would never have asked her family to 'support' her like Regina, despite the shame and ruin of a private nature The scandal of an innocent man is nothing compared to this."

"Yes, Regina would be more decent if she hid herself than to ask for support," agreed Mrs. Lovell. "I heard that the emerald necklace she wore to the opera last Friday was a trial item sent by Ball Black Jewelry just this afternoon. I wonder if they can take it back."

People's relentless condemnation one after another made Cornelius realize the indifference from the heart of New Yorkers towards dishonest businessmen.

At this time, the half-breed maid called Mrs. Lovell to the hall, and the latter returned immediately frowning.

"She wants me to send a telegram to Ellen Olenska. Of course, I have written to Ellen, and I have also written to Medora. But it doesn't seem to work now, I have to go and send her a copy." Telegram, tell her to come back alone."

The news was greeted with silence.Mrs. Welland sighed resignedly, and May rose from her seat to collect the few newspapers which had been scattered on the floor.

"I think the telegram must be sent," continued Mrs. Lovell Mingott, as if expecting objections.May turned and walked toward the middle of the room.

"Of course it has to be sent," she said. "Grandma knows what she wants, and we must meet all her wishes. Shall I write the message for you, Auntie? If it goes at once, Ellen may be in time for tomorrow morning." Train." She spoke the syllables of the name very clearly, as if ringing two silver bells.

"Well, I can't send it right away. The butler and the valet are out to deliver letters and telegrams."

Mei Yanran turned to Cornelius with a smile, and said:

"But Newland's here. Will you telegraph, Newland? Just in time for lunch."

Cornelius couldn't stand the atmosphere, he stood up and muttered yes.

May sat down at old Catherine's rosewood "stacking desk" and began to write the telegram in her big, not yet perfect handwriting.After writing, he blotted carefully with blotting paper and handed it to Cornelius.

Lovell Mingott said, "What the hell did she want you to telegraph Ellen Olenska—"

May responded in a clear voice: "Perhaps to re-emphasize to her that her duty is to be with her husband after all."

The door closed behind Cornelius.

Walking down the street, he found that the bank run had started again, and the bank would probably have to close before the day was over.There was talk of Beaufort's hideous cowardice.

"O-1—O-1—what the hell is it spelled?" asked the stern lady.At the Western Union office, Cornelius handed her the telegram May had just written over the brass ledge.

"Olenska-O-len-ska," he repeated, pulling back the telegram in order to print the foreign letters above May's scribbles.

Twenty-four hours after the summons to Madame Olenska, she received a telegram that she would be there the next evening.

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