Kate Chopin's The Awakening

In the large and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the Ratignolles entertained their friends once a fortnight with a soiree musicale, sometimes diversified by card-playing.

A quadroon nurse followed them about with a faraway, meditative air.

For two consecutive seasons he lived in the sunlight of Mademoiselle Duvigne's presence.

She began to cry a little, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her peignoir.

Beneath its pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. Pontellier, and young Robert Lebrun.

The parrot and the mockingbird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished.

It possessed the greatest interest and attraction for Edna; the envelope, its size and shape, the post-mark, the handwriting.

She leaned draggingly upon his arm as they walked.

He kissed them and promised to bring them back bonbons and peanuts.

The sewing-machine made a resounding clatter in the room; it was of a ponderous, by-gone make.

Only Beaudelet remained behind, tinkering at his boat, and Mariequita walked away with her basket of shrimps, casting a look of childish ill humor and reproach at Robert from the corner of her eye.

Are you afraid of the pirogue?"

Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her
girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country.

That lady seemed at a loss to make a selection, but finally settled upon a stick of nougat, wondering if it were not too rich; whether it could possibly hurt her.

"It seems to me the utmost folly for a woman at the head of a household, and the mother of children, to spend in an atelier days which would be better employed contriving for the comfort of her family."

In the large and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the Ratignolles entertained their friends once a fortnight with a soiree musicale, sometimes diversified by card-playing.

The boys were dragging along the banquette a small "express wagon," which they had filled with blocks and sticks.

He observed his hostess attentively from under his shaggy brows, and noted a subtle change which had transformed her from the listless woman he had known into a being who, for the moment, seemed palpitant with the forces of life.

In the next room she slept, and in the third and last she harbored a gasoline stove on which she cooked her meals when disinclined to descend to the neighboring restaurant.

It was when the face and figure of a
great tragedian began to haunt her imagination and stir her senses.

Mrs. Pontellier, though she had married a Creole, was not thoroughly
at home in the society of Creoles; never before had she been thrown so
intimately among them.

"Where is Victor going with the rockaway?"

Mrs. Pontellier flew for the cologne water and
a fan.

A lateen sail was visible in the direction of Cat Island, and
others to the south seemed almost motionless in the far distance.

From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank
notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau
indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief, and whatever else
happened to be in his pockets.

At that early period it served but to bewilder her.

'If Mrs. Pontellier should call upon you, play
for her that Impromptu of Chopin's, my favorite.

She was not
much given to reclining in the hammock, and when she did so it was with
no cat-like suggestion of voluptuous ease, but with a beneficent repose
which seemed to invade her whole body.

XVII


The Pontelliers possessed a very charming home on Esplanade Street in
New Orleans.

Shall I stir you a toddy?

The air was invigorating and steadied somewhat her faculties.

"I have a letter somewhere," looking in the machine drawer and finding
the letter in the bottom of the workbasket.

"I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my
life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself.

She touched his hand as she scanned the red
cicatrice on the inside of his white wrist.

A lateen sail was visible in the direction of Cat Island, and
others to the south seemed almost motionless in the far distance.

After finishing her dinner she went to her
room, having instructed the boy to tell any other callers that she was
indisposed.

He could see it plainly
between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of
yellow camomile.

He never assumed this seriocomic tone when alone with Mrs. Pontellier.

The excitement came
back upon her like a remittent fever.

The women were both of goodly height, Madame Ratignolle possessing
the more feminine and matronly figure.

Mrs. Pontellier, though she had married a Creole, was not thoroughly
at home in the society of Creoles; never before had she been thrown so
intimately among them.

Two broad dormer windows looked
out toward the Gulf, and as far across it as a man's eye might reach.

Madame Ratignolle looked more beautiful than ever there at home, in a
neglige which left her arms almost wholly bare and exposed the rich,
melting curves of her white throat.

A casual and indiscriminating observer, in
passing, might not cast a second glance upon the figure.

But there was nothing systematic about
the programme, no appearance of prearrangement nor even premeditation.

He was scintillant
with recollections.

"Would you like
a cup of bouillon?

Let me mix you a toddy with
a drop of Angostura."

Some young
people were out under the wateroaks playing croquet.

Arobin appeared nonplused, and asked Edna if there were
any one else she cared to ask.

She understood French imperfectly
unless directly addressed, and the voices were only part of the other
drowsy, muffled sounds lulling her senses.

And she perambulated
around the outside of the house, investigating, looking to see if
windows and shutters were secure and in order.

"Do you know we have been together the whole livelong day, Robert--since
early this morning?" she said at parting.

The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that
came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea.

The house was
painted a dazzling white; the outside shutters, or jalousies, were
green.

"I have always
said no one could play Chopin like Mademoiselle Reisz!"

She had known personally
but one Mexican, who made and sold excellent tamales, and whom she would
have trusted implicitly, so soft-spoken was he.

Two of them clung about her
white skirts, the third she took from its nurse and with a thousand
endearments bore it along in her own fond, encircling arms.

And as she snuggled
comfortably beneath the eiderdown a sense of restfulness invaded her,
such as she had not known before.

"I'm very tired," she uttered, complainingly.

Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a
joy to look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold
thimble to her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little
night-drawers or fashioned a bodice or a bib.

She
rummaged in the larder and brought forth a slice of Gruyere and some
crackers.

They waited a good while under the orange trees, till Madame Antoine
came back, panting, waddling, with a thousand apologies to explain
her absence.

They were covered
with Spanish moss.

Never would Edna Pontellier forget the shock with which she heard Madame
Ratignolle relating to old Monsieur Farival the harrowing story of one
of her accouchements, withholding no intimate detail.

Her older sister, Margaret, was
matronly and dignified, probably from having assumed matronly and
housewifely responsibilities too early in life, their mother having
died when they were quite young, Margaret was not effusive; she
was practical.

Old Monsieur Farival laughed sardonically at something as he
looked at the sails, and Beaudelet swore at the old man under his
breath.

There were one or two men whom she observed at the soiree musicale;
but she would never have felt moved to any kittenish display to attract
their notice--to any feline or feminine wiles to express herself toward
them.

A little black
girl sat on the floor, and with her hands worked the treadle of the
machine.

A fruit vender was
crying his wares in the street.

She was boiling
mullets over a few red coals in the huge fireplace.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue
of the horizon.

I have a little money of my own from my mother's estate, which
my father sends me by driblets.

She was a disagreeable little woman, no longer young, who
had quarreled with almost every one, owing to a temper which was
self-assertive and a disposition to trample upon the rights of others.

She grew fond of her husband,
realizing with some unaccountable satisfaction that no trace of passion
or excessive and fictitious warmth colored her affection, thereby
threatening its dissolution.

She was not very warmly or deeply attached to him, but they had certain
tastes in common, and when together they were companionable.

He
sometimes talked in a way that astonished her at first and brought the
crimson into her face; in a way that pleased her at last, appealing to
the animalism that stirred impatiently within her.

II


Mrs. Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish
brown, about the color of her hair.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring,
murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of
solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

Some among them thought it was
on account of her false hair, or the dread of getting the violets wet,
while others attributed it to the natural aversion for water sometimes
believed to accompany the artistic temperament.

Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper
drag idly from his hand.

A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept
repeating over and over:

"Allez vous-en!

Then the candor of the woman's whole existence, which every
one might read, and which formed so striking a contrast to her own
habitual reserve--this might have furnished a link.

"It will buy a handsome wedding present for Sister Janet!" she
exclaimed, smoothing out the bills as she counted them one by one.

In the next room she slept, and in the third and last she harbored a
gasoline stove on which she cooked her meals when disinclined to descend
to the neighboring restaurant.

"Out!" exclaimed her husband, with something like genuine consternation
in his voice as he laid down the vinegar cruet and looked at her through
his glasses.

He had been seated
before the door of the main house.

The lady in black was reading her morning
devotions on the porch of a neighboring bathhouse.

He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody
understood, unless it was the mocking-bird that hung on the other
side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with
maddening persistence.

And as she snuggled
comfortably beneath the eiderdown a sense of restfulness invaded her,
such as she had not known before.

He was already acquainted
with the market reports, and he glanced restlessly over the editorials
and bits of news which he had not had time to read before quitting New
Orleans the day before.

"Am I a comedian, a clown, a
jack-in-the-box?

Mr. Pontellier wore eye-glasses.

He had been seated
before the door of the main house.

Two of them clung about her
white skirts, the third she took from its nurse and with a thousand
endearments bore it along in her own fond, encircling arms.

She had not intended to go into the water; but she
donned her bathing suit, and left Mademoiselle alone, seated under the
shade of the children's tent.

Mr. Pontellier was a great
favorite, and ladies, men, children, even nurses, were always on hand to
say goodby to him.

Perhaps she will never again suffer a poor, unworthy earthling to walk
in the shadow of her divine presence."

The
atmosphere of the stables and the breath of the blue grass paddock
revived in her memory and lingered in her nostrils.

She read a letter from her sister, who was away in the East,
and who had engaged herself to be married.

When they reached the cottage, the two seated themselves with
some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each
other, each leaning against a supporting post.

Beneath its
pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. Pontellier, and young Robert
Lebrun.

She silently reached out to him, and he,
understanding, took the rings from his vest pocket and dropped them
into her open palm.

It was understood that he had often spoken words of love
to Madame Ratignolle, without any thought of being taken seriously.

XVIII


The following morning Mr. Pontellier, upon leaving for his office, asked
Edna if she would not meet him in town in order to look at some new
fixtures for the library.

"What is it?" asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to
the other.

He was tall and thin, and wore his coats
padded, which gave a fictitious breadth and depth to his shoulders
and chest.

Madame
Ratignolle removed her veil, wiped her face with a rather delicate
handkerchief, and fanned herself with the fan which she always carried
suspended somewhere about her person by a long, narrow ribbon.

Sometimes
it was a young girl, again a widow; but as often as not it was some
interesting married woman.

XV


When Edna entered the dining-room one evening a little late, as was her
habit, an unusually animated conversation seemed to be going on.

She
would, through habit, have yielded to his desire; not with any sense of
submission or obedience to his compelling wishes, but unthinkingly, as
we walk, move, sit, stand, go through the daily treadmill of the life
which has been portioned out to us.

A quick vision of death smote her soul, and for a second of time
appalled and enfeebled her senses.

His hair was brown and
straight, parted on one side.

When Mrs. Pontellier left him to enter her room, the young man descended
the steps and strolled over toward the croquet players, where,
during the half-hour before dinner, he amused himself with the little
Pontellier children, who were very fond of him.

It was openly
criticised and freely discussed at table.

But his face was suffused with a quiet
glow when he met her.

The
persistence of the infatuation lent it an aspect of genuineness.

In the next room she slept, and in the third and last she harbored a
gasoline stove on which she cooked her meals when disinclined to descend
to the neighboring restaurant.

The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that
came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea.

Her unlooked-for achievement was the subject of wonder, applause, and
admiration.

Miss
Highcamp played some selections from Grieg upon the piano.

"I was a little unthinking child in
those days, just following a misleading impulse without question.

And as she snuggled
comfortably beneath the eiderdown a sense of restfulness invaded her,
such as she had not known before.

III


It was eleven o'clock that night when Mr. Pontellier returned from
Klein's hotel.

She
seated herself, for she was tired from her long tramp; and she began to
rock gently and smooth out the folds of her silk parasol.

There was a band playing down at Klein's
hotel, and the strains reached them faintly, tempered by the distance.

But he failed
to impose upon the Colonel, and was even far from impressing him with
this trumped-up knowledge of bygone days.

They went together back to the kitchen to drink coffee.

She needed the
sun to mellow and temper her mood to the sticking point.

"Let me see it," requested the young woman, entreatingly.

And he himself
brought her the golden-brown bouillon, in a dainty Sevres cup, with a
flaky cracker or two on the saucer.

He took a book from his pocket and began energetically
to read it, judging by the precision and frequency with which he turned
the leaves.

Her older sister, Margaret, was
matronly and dignified, probably from having assumed matronly and
housewifely responsibilities too early in life, their mother having
died when they were quite young, Margaret was not effusive; she
was practical.

"It isn't pleasant to have a woman tell you--" he went on, unheedingly,
but breaking off suddenly: "Now if I were like Arobin-you remember Alcee
Arobin and that story of the consul's wife at Biloxi?"

It was very pleasant there on the side
porch, where there were chairs, a wicker lounge, and a small table.

They chatted incessantly: about the things around
them; their amusing adventure out in the water-it had again assumed its
entertaining aspect; about the wind, the trees, the people who had gone
to the Cheniere; about the children playing croquet under the oaks, and
the Farival twins, who were now performing the overture to "The Poet and
the Peasant."

There was no sound
abroad except the hooting of an old owl in the top of a water-oak, and
the everlasting voice of the sea, that was not uplifted at that soft
hour.

You know I have a quick
temper, but I don't want to quarrel or be rude to a woman, especially my
wife; yet I'm driven to it, and feel like ten thousand devils after I've
made a fool of myself.

"Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold
snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."

Two broad dormer windows looked
out toward the Gulf, and as far across it as a man's eye might reach.

They chatted incessantly: about the things around
them; their amusing adventure out in the water-it had again assumed its
entertaining aspect; about the wind, the trees, the people who had gone
to the Cheniere; about the children playing croquet under the oaks, and
the Farival twins, who were now performing the overture to "The Poet and
the Peasant."

From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank
notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau
indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief, and whatever else
happened to be in his pockets.

Bah!" and she
went shuffling and sidling on down the gallery toward her room.

The air was invigorating and steadied somewhat her faculties.

That lady seemed at a loss to make a selection, but finally settled upon
a stick of nougat, wondering if it were not too rich; whether it could
possibly hurt her.

And the ladies, selecting with dainty and discriminating fingers
and a little greedily, all declared that Mr. Pontellier was the best
husband in the world.

They seemed never before to have weighed much
against the abundance of her husband's kindness and a uniform devotion
which had come to be tacit and self-understood.

The cut glass, the silver, the heavy
damask which daily appeared upon the table were the envy of many women
whose husbands were less generous than Mr. Pontellier.

A good many persons of the pension had gone over to
the Cheniere Caminada in Beaudelet's lugger to hear mass.

She fancied there
was a sympathy of thought and taste between them, in which fancy she
was mistaken.

An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar
part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish.

The following morning Mr. Pontellier was up in good time to take the
rockaway which was to convey him to the steamer at the wharf.

When Madame Lebrun complained that it
was so dull coming back to the city; that she saw so few people now;
that even Victor, when he came up from the island for a day or two, had
so much to occupy him and engage his time; then it was that the youth
went into contortions on the lounge and winked mischievously at Edna.

He had come to purchase a wedding gift for his daughter, Janet, and an
outfit for himself in which he might make a creditable appearance at
her marriage.

"Whenever you say the word I'm ready to thrash any amount of reason into
him that he's able to hold."

She was overcome with sleep, and answered
him with little half utterances.

But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily
vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing.

Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her
girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country.

But she died between summers; then Robert posed as
an inconsolable, prostrating himself at the feet of Madame Ratignolle
for whatever crumbs of sympathy and comfort she might be pleased to
vouchsafe.

The wine tasted good; the marron
glace seemed to be just what she wanted.

But do you
know," she broke off, turning her quick eyes upon Madame Ratignolle and
leaning forward a little so as to bring her face quite close to that
of her companion, "sometimes I feel this summer as if I were walking
through the green meadow again; idly, aimlessly, unthinking and
unguided."

"You are burnt beyond recognition," he added, looking at his wife as one
looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some
damage.

The flowers were like
new acquaintances; she approached them in a familiar spirit, and made
herself at home among them.

They were women who idolized
their children, worshiped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy
privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as
ministering angels.

Edna wished to see the letter, and Madame Lebrun told her to
look for it either on the table or the dresser, or perhaps it was on the
mantelpiece.

Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper
drag idly from his hand.

He smoked cigarettes because he could
not afford cigars, he said.

His face flushed with annoyance, and taking off his soft hat he began
to beat it impatiently against his leg as he walked.

Robert went over and seated himself on the broad sill of one of the
dormer windows.

He walked down the gallery and across the narrow "bridges" which
connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other.

A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept
repeating over and over:

"Allez vous-en!

There was no sound
abroad except the hooting of an old owl in the top of a water-oak, and
the everlasting voice of the sea, that was not uplifted at that soft
hour.

Edna
took him in her arms, and seating herself in the rocker, began to coddle
and caress him, calling him all manner of tender names, soothing him to
sleep.

Their freedom of expression was
at first incomprehensible to her, though she had no difficulty in
reconciling it with a lofty chastity which in the Creole woman seems to
be inborn and unmistakable.

The touch of the sea is
sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

Her glance wandered from his face away toward the Gulf, whose
sonorous murmur reached her like a loving but imperative entreaty.

Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her
girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country.

She opened a bottle of beer which she found in the icebox.

With a writhing motion she settled herself more securely in the hammock.

"Ah!" ejaculated the musician, neither surprised nor especially
interested.

He sent back an answering smile.

"Are you going bathing?" asked Robert of Mrs. Pontellier.

A light-colored mulatto boy, in dress coat and bearing a
diminutive silver tray for the reception of cards, admitted them.

He had gone to
bed perfectly well, she said, and nothing had ailed him all day.

The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance,
only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and part hair;
since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and
brushed.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring,
murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of
solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

He walked down the gallery and across the narrow "bridges" which
connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other.

Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a
yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally
high voice to a dining-room servant whenever she got outside.

And she summoned a young
black woman, whom she instructed, in French, to be very careful in
checking off the list which she handed her.

It moved her to
dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her
the midnight when she had abandoned herself to tears.

Edna and her father looked very distinguished together, and
excited a good deal of notice during their perambulations.

"Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold
snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."

She was a grown young woman when she was overtaken by what she supposed
to be the climax of her fate.

Farther down, before
one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down,
telling her beads.

The cook, placed upon her mettle, served a delicious repast--a
luscious tenderloin broiled a point.

He stared up
disapprovingly over his eye-glasses as Mr. Pontellier entered, wondering
who had the temerity to disturb him at that hour of the morning.

Farther down, before
one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down,
telling her beads.

He could see it plainly
between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of
yellow camomile.

She's making it devilishly uncomfortable for
me," he went on nervously.

A general
air of surprise and genuine satisfaction fell upon every one as they saw
the pianist enter.

He stood close to her, and the effrontery in his eyes repelled the old,
vanishing self in her, yet drew all her awakening sensuousness.

A light-colored mulatto boy, in dress coat and bearing a
diminutive silver tray for the reception of cards, admitted them.

Beaudelet grumbled because Mariequita was there, taking up so much room.

The parrot and the mockingbird were
the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the
noise they wished.

But there was a cloth spread upon
the table that stood against the wall, and a cover was laid for one,
with a crusty brown loaf and a bottle of wine beside the plate.

Two young girls,
the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano.

Margaret--you know Margaret--she has all the
Presbyterianism undiluted.

That was why the
morning seemed long to him.

The whole place was immaculately clean, and the big, four-posted bed,
snow-white, invited one to repose.

She had a way of turning them
swiftly upon an object and holding them there as if lost in some inward
maze of contemplation or thought.

Some chickens were
clucking outside the windows, scratching for bits of gravel in the
grass.

The
Sunday papers had not yet reached Grand Isle.

Two broad dormer windows looked
out toward the Gulf, and as far across it as a man's eye might reach.

Mr. Pontellier had been a rather courteous husband so long as he met
a certain tacit submissiveness in his wife.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue
of the horizon.

Notwithstanding he loved them very much, and went into the adjoining
room where they slept to take a look at them and make sure that they
were resting comfortably.

He bore a reputation for wisdom rather than skill--leaving the active
practice of medicine to his assistants and younger contemporaries--and
was much sought for in matters of consultation.

"It will buy a handsome wedding present for Sister Janet!" she
exclaimed, smoothing out the bills as she counted them one by one.

She liked money as well as most
women, and, accepted it with no little satisfaction.

She was
a fresh, pretty woman, clad always in white with elbow sleeves.

Mrs. Pontellier had brought her sketching materials, which she sometimes
dabbled with in an unprofessional way.

He was very young, and did not
know any better.

Two young girls,
the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano.

"Perhaps I feared to make Alphonse jealous," she interjoined, with
excessive naivete.

The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier's eyes that the damp sleeve of
her peignoir no longer served to dry them.

Her face was captivating by reason of a certain
frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features.

Her face was captivating by reason of a certain
frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features.

He halted a moment
and shrugged his shoulders.

"I will take some brandy," said Edna, shivering as she removed her
gloves and overshoes.

Farther down, before
one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down,
telling her beads.

Two young girls,
the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano.

"Don't banter me," she said, wounded at what appeared to be his
flippancy.

Madame Ratignolle, when they had regained her cottage, went in to take
the hour's rest which she considered helpful.

She missed him
the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one
misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much about the sun
when it was shining.

A good many persons of the pension had gone over to
the Cheniere Caminada in Beaudelet's lugger to hear mass.

"No." Her eyes gleamed bright and intense, with no sleepy shadows, as
they looked into his.

From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank
notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau
indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief, and whatever else
happened to be in his pockets.

There was
a perpetual smile in his eyes, which seldom failed to awaken a
corresponding cheerfulness in any one who looked into them and listened
to his good-humored voice.

She had possession of the rocker, and she was busily engaged in sewing
upon a diminutive pair of night-drawers.

That summer at Grand Isle she began to loosen a little the mantle of
reserve that had always enveloped her.

When they reached the cottage, the two seated themselves with
some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each
other, each leaning against a supporting post.

Clatter,
clatter, clatter, bang! for the next five or eight minutes.

Her
starched skirts crinkled as she came and went.

She was holding the back
of her chair with one hand; her loose sleeve had slipped almost to the
shoulder of her uplifted arm.

"Of course not," echoed Mariequita, with a serious, confirmatory bob of
the head.

Edna looked straight before her with a self-absorbed expression upon
her face.

Another piece called to her mind a dainty young woman clad in an Empire
gown, taking mincing dancing steps as she came down a long avenue
between tall hedges.

Once in a while he withdrew his glance from the newspaper and looked
about him.

The boys were tumbling about, clinging to his legs, imploring that
numerous things be brought back to them.

They
jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope.

"What is it?" asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to
the other.

The day was Sunday; the paper was a day old.

He had gone to
bed perfectly well, she said, and nothing had ailed him all day.

"Well, I hope you left some suitable excuse," said her husband, somewhat
appeased, as he added a dash of cayenne pepper to the soup.

Margaret--you know Margaret--she has all the
Presbyterianism undiluted.

Their voices were high and penetrating.

The little stinging, buzzing imps succeeded in dispelling a mood which
might have held her there in the darkness half a night longer.

They chatted incessantly: about the things around
them; their amusing adventure out in the water-it had again assumed its
entertaining aspect; about the wind, the trees, the people who had gone
to the Cheniere; about the children playing croquet under the oaks, and
the Farival twins, who were now performing the overture to "The Poet and
the Peasant."

A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept
repeating over and over:

"Allez vous-en!

If her husband did not adore her,
he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture.

Old Monsieur Farival was up, and
was more than half inclined to do anything that suggested itself.

She had tried to forget him,
realizing the inutility of remembering.

Further away
still, vegetable gardens abounded, with frequent small plantations of
orange or lemon trees intervening.

Farther down, before
one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down,
telling her beads.

In the large
and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the
Ratignolles entertained their friends once a fortnight with a soiree
musicale, sometimes diversified by card-playing.

That's all right!"

The dining tables had all been
removed to one end of the hall, and the chairs ranged about in rows and
in clusters.

In former times, before Robert could remember, "the
house" had been a summer luxury of the Lebruns.

He could see it plainly
between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of
yellow camomile.

His entrance awoke his wife, who was in bed and fast asleep
when he came in.

Their heads might have been
turned upside-down, so absolutely did they tread upon blue ether.

The
pates and fruit were brought to the dining-room; the bonbons were passed
around.

An
unusual number of husbands, fathers, and friends had come down to stay
over Sunday; and they were being suitably entertained by their families,
with the material help of Madame Lebrun.

It was filled with friandises, with luscious
and toothsome bits--the finest of fruits, pates, a rare bottle or two,
delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.

He could not be in two places at once; making a living for
his family on the street, and staying at home to see that no harm befell
them.

She told the cook that she herself would be greatly occupied during
Mr. Pontellier's absence, and she begged her to take all thought and
responsibility of the larder upon her own shoulders.

She let her hand lie listlessly, as though
her thoughts were elsewhere--somewhere in advance of her body, and she
was striving to overtake them.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue
of the horizon.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue
of the horizon.

There was a soft effulgence in the east.

The boys were tumbling about, clinging to his legs, imploring that
numerous things be brought back to them.

There was a settling down, and a prevailing air
of expectancy everywhere.

It is something to squander and throw to the four winds, for
the fun of seeing the golden specks fly."

Edna could not control a feeling which bordered upon complacency at
her friend's praise, even realizing, as she did, its true worth.

Some among them thought it was
on account of her false hair, or the dread of getting the violets wet,
while others attributed it to the natural aversion for water sometimes
believed to accompany the artistic temperament.

It was something which he felt rather than
perceived, and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and
ample atonement.

His search has always hitherto been fruitless, and he
has sunk back, disheartened, into the sea.

People turned
their heads to look at her, and more than one lent an attentive car to
her utterances, hoping thereby to secure the elusive but ever-desired
"tip."

The people about me are like some uncanny,
half-human beings.

She was overcome with sleep, and answered
him with little half utterances.

Meanwhile he held on to his modest position in a mercantile house in
New Orleans, where an equal familiarity with English, French and Spanish
gave him no small value as a clerk and correspondent.

She vacantly hummed a
fantastic tune as she poked at the wood embers on the hearth and munched
a cracker.

I tell you what it is, Edna; you can't afford to snub Mrs.
Belthrop.

He did
not lead the way, however, he directed the way; and he himself loitered
behind with the lovers, who had betrayed a disposition to linger and
hold themselves apart.

A quick vision of death smote her soul, and for a second of time
appalled and enfeebled her senses.

Sailing across the bay to the Cheniere Caminada, Edna felt as if she
were being borne away from some anchorage which had held her fast, whose
chains had been loosening--had snapped the night before when the mystic
spirit was abroad, leaving her free to drift whithersoever she chose
to set her sails.

Mademoiselle had
glided from the Chopin into the quivering love notes of Isolde's song,
and back again to the Impromptu with its soulful and poignant longing.

She made no ineffectual
efforts to conduct her household en bonne menagere, going and coming as
it suited her fancy, and, so far as she was able, lending herself to any
passing caprice.

The
quadroon was following them with little quick steps, having assumed a
fictitious animation and alacrity for the occasion.

The present alone was significant; was hers, to torture her as it was
doing then with the biting conviction that she had lost that which she
had held, that she had been denied that which her impassioned, newly
awakened being demanded.

Madame Ratignolle hoped that Robert would exercise extreme caution
in dealing with the Mexicans, who, she considered, were a treacherous
people, unscrupulous and revengeful.

Most
women are moody and whimsical.

Mrs. Pontellier, attired in a handsome
reception gown, remained in the drawing-room the entire afternoon
receiving her visitors.

"Nothing peculiar about her family antecedents, is there?"

Madame coquetted with him in the most captivating and naive
manner, with eyes, gestures, and a profusion of compliments, till the
Colonel's old head felt thirty years younger on his padded shoulders.

Whatever it
was, the rebuke was convincing, for the woman dropped her hoe and went
mumbling into the house.

She
seated herself, for she was tired from her long tramp; and she began to
rock gently and smooth out the folds of her silk parasol.

"That last
prelude!

When Edna awoke it was with the conviction that she had slept long and
soundly.

"I am not quite so
exacting.