“The Other Two” follows Mr. Waythorn as he comes to terms with the fact that his wife’s two ex-husbands, Mr. Haskett and Mr. Varick, are not far-off memories from another time and place but are real people who still play a role in the Waythorns’ lives. Although this is already tricky territory to navigate, Mr. Waythorn’s plight is complicated by the social norms and rigid standards of etiquette that govern his society. Even while feeling uncomfortable, disdainful, or embarrassed, Mr. Waythorn must behave politely, agreeably, and appropriately at all times. In “The Other Two,” Edith Wharton—a member of the pristine upper class herself—reflects on the social etiquette with which she was so familiar. Charting the way that the story’s protagonists, Mr. and Mrs. Waythorn, continually choose to place etiquette over honesty, Wharton provides a sharp social criticism, suggesting that etiquette is just an illusion that conceals the truth and ultimately undermines relationships. As both characters repeatedly show as the story unfolds, it’s impossible to be both polite and honest.
Throughout the story, Wharton reinforces Mrs. Alice Waythorn’s social pliancy and astute sense of etiquette, even in especially awkward or troubling circumstances. In response to Alice’s daughter Lily’s serious illness, Mr. Waythorn states, “no woman ever wasted less tissue in unproductive worry.” Even in the exceptionally troubling circumstance of a sick child, Alice maintains her composure. Wharton situates this extreme situation next to Alice’s hugely downplayed reaction in order to urge the reader to question the sincerity and motivation behind such an understated response to her daughter’s health. A gravely ill child, suggests Wharton, ought to warrant some expression of worry—it speaks to Alice’s misplaced priorities that she places etiquette above expressing fear over her possibly dying child. As the story goes on, it becomes clear that Alice harbors a private disdain for her first husband, Mr. Haskett. However, on coming across Mr. Haskett in her home—he is legally allowed to visit, as he is Lily’s father—Alice astutely masks her displeasure. Mr. Waythorn observes: “Her smile faded for a moment, but she recalled it quickly, with a scarcely perceptible glance at Waythorn.” Even though Haskett’s presence takes her by surprise, Alice’s sense of etiquette allows her to become immediately composed, quickly stamping out whatever emotions Haskett’s presence brought up for her. Because of her composure in this moment and others, Mr. Waythorn is never able to fully grasp what his wife’s relationship with Haskett was like, why she divorced him, or why his presence affects her the way that it does. When she unexpectedly encounters her husband and two ex-husbands together in the library, she proclaims enthusiastically, “I’m so sorry—I’m always late; but the afternoon was so lovely.” Once again, Alice bends to propriety, dispelling an uncomfortable situation with light and cheerful—but clearly forced—language, masking whatever emotions she truly feels.
Similarly, although Waythorn feels deeply uncomfortable and insecure about the significant roles Mr. Haskett and Mr. Varick still play in his and Alice’s life, he refuses to express or act on these feelings for fear of appearing uncivil. When unforeseen circumstances force Mr. Waythorn to take on Alice’s second husband, Varick, as a client, Waythorn—to his dismay—is forced to develop a polite and friendly business relationship with the man. At Alice’s insistence, the Waythorns extend this relationship beyond the realm of business and into their larger social life. The Waythorns’ social circle is overjoyed at their “acceptance” of Varick, but in reality Mr. Waythorn is only appearing to “accept” Waythorn, lest he commit a social faux pas. Such an acceptance signifies that the Waythorns have decided to overlook their own feelings of hesitation and discomfort in order to be perceived as polite and socially accommodating. In reality, Waythorn practices “acceptance” as a polite coping mechanism, having “formed a protecting surface for his sensibilities.” Waythorn acts at ease around the ex-husbands, but only to appease his wife and their social circle. In another instance, Waythorn encounters Alice speaking to Varick in one of the “remoter rooms” of a house at which they are attending a ball. Embarrassed, Alice suggests that it would be “‘less awkward’” to be on speaking terms with her ex-husband. Though the thought of this makes Waythorn ill, he agrees, “wearily,” with his wife’s decision. The actions that Waythorn takes out of politeness—maintaining a social relationship with Varick—contradict his inner feelings of unease. He would rather avoid an awkward situation than confess his insecurities to his wife, suggesting that, for the upper class, conforming to social norms is often more important than expressing one’s true feelings.
Despite this mutual dedication to maintaining appearances, Alice’s extreme pliancy ultimately enrages Mr. Waythorn. Tensions build and remain unresolved when the couple consistently sacrifices honesty for politeness. Waythorn believes that he “could have forgiven her for blunders […] for resisting Haskett, for yielding to Varick.” He could forgive anything, he believes, “but her acquiescence and her tact.” Alice chooses to be polite and accommodating of her ex-husbands, making it impossible for Mr. Waythorn to ascertain how she actually feels about the two men. Though once entranced by Alice’s social grace, Mr. Waythorn becomes frustrated at his wife’s evasiveness, as he realizes that Alice’s adherence to etiquette comes at the cost of building and maintaining intimacy and trust within their marriage.
The Waythorns’ fixation on social etiquette and the resultant tensions that build in their relationship reveal Wharton’s critical perception of social etiquette. Although the short story ends on a cheerful note, with the Waythorns and their two guests—Alice’s two ex-husbands—sitting around a tea-table, drinking, and laughing, Wharton’s critical treatment of social etiquette throughout the text suggests that this happy scene is only an illusion of happiness and resolve. Mr. Waythorn laughs as he accepts another cup of tea, not because he is at ease, but because to appear otherwise would be an unspeakable social transgression. This ending, then, suggests that the Waythorns will carry on prioritizing their social status over honestly expressing themselves to acquaintances, friends, or even each other. In wholeheartedly committing themselves to maintaining an illusion of social poise, the Waythorns undermine their own relationship.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Social Etiquette and Illusions ThemeTracker
Social Etiquette and Illusions Quotes in The Other Two
Her composure was restful to him; it acted as a ballast to his somewhat unstable sensibilities. As he pictured her bending over the child’s bed he thought how soothing her presence must be in illness: her very step would prognosticate recovery.
He knew that society had not yet adapted itself to the consequences of divorce and that till the adaptation takes place every woman who uses the freedom the law accords her must be her own social justification.
What was he thinking of—only the flavour of the coffee and the liqueur? Had the morning’s meeting left no more trace in his thoughts than on his face? Had his wife so completely passed out of his life that even this odd encounter with her present husband, within a week after her remarriage, was no more than an incident in his day?
It was as if her whole aspect, every gesture, every inflection, every allusion, were a studied negation of that period of her life.
A man would rather think that his wife has been brutalised by her first husband than that the process has been reversed.
She was ‘as easy as an old shoe’ —a shoe that too many feet had worn. Her elasticity was the result of tension in too many different directions. Alice Haskett—Alice Varick—Alice Waythorn—she had been each in turn, and had left hanging to each name a little of her privacy, a little of her personality, a little of the inmost self where the unknown god abides.
He could have forgiven her for blunders, for excesses; for resisting Haskett, for yielding to Varick; for anything but her acquiescence and her tact.
