酷兔英语

章节正文
文章总共2页
written to his mother rather than to her.

Every one seemed to take for granted that she missed him.



Even her husband, when he came down the Saturday following Robert's

departure, expressed regret that he had gone.



"How do you get on without him, Edna?" he asked.

"It's very dull without him," she admitted. Mr. Pontellier



had seen Robert in the city, and Edna asked him a dozen questions

or more. Where had they met? On Carondelet Street, in the morning.



They had gone "in" and had a drink and a cigar together. What had

they talked about? Chiefly about his prospects in Mexico, which



Mr. Pontellier thought were promising. How did he look? How did

he seem--grave, or gay, or how? Quite cheerful, and wholly



taken up with the idea of his trip, which Mr. Pontellier found

altogether natural in a young fellow about to seek fortune



and adventure in a strange, queer country.

Edna tapped her foot impatiently, and wondered why the



children persisted in playing in the sun when they might be under

the trees. She went down and led them out of the sun, scolding the



quadroon for not being more attentive.

It did not strike her as in the least grotesque that she



should be making of Robert the object of conversation and leading

her husband to speak of him. The sentiment which she entertained



for Robert in no way resembled that which she felt for her husband,

or had ever felt, or ever expected to feel. She had all her life



long been accustomed to harbor thoughts and emotions which never

voiced themselves. They had never taken the form of struggles.



They belonged to her and were her own, and she entertained the

conviction that she had a right to them and that they concerned no



one but herself. Edna had once told Madame Ratignolle that she

would never sacrifice herself for her children, or for any one.



Then had followed a rather heated argument; the two women did not

appear to understand each other or to be talking the same language.



Edna tried to appease her friend, to explain.

"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. I

can't make it more clear; it's only something which I am beginning



to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me."

"I don't know what you would call the essential, or what you



mean by the unessential," said Madame Ratignolle, cheerfully; "but

a woman who would give her life for her children could do no more



than that--your Bible tells you so. I'm sure I couldn't do more

than that."



"Oh, yes you could!" laughed Edna.

She was not surprised at Mademoiselle Reisz's question the



morning that lady, following her to the beach, tapped her on the

shoulder and asked if she did not greatly miss her young friend.



"Oh, good morning, Mademoiselle; is it you? Why, of course I

miss Robert. Are you going down to bathe?"



"Why should I go down to bathe at the very end of the season

when I haven't been in the surf all summer," replied the woman,



disagreeably.

"I beg your pardon," offered Edna, in some embarrassment, for



she should have remembered that Mademoiselle Reisz's avoidance of

the water had furnished a theme for much pleasantry. 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. Mademoiselle offered Edna some chocolates in a paper



bag, which she took from her pocket, by way of showing that she

bore no ill feeling. She habitually ate chocolates for their



sustaining quality; they contained much nutriment in small compass,

she said. They saved her from starvation, as Madame Lebrun's table



was utterly impossible; and no one save so impertinent a woman as

Madame Lebrun could think of offering such food to people and



requiring them to pay for it.

"She must feel very lonely without her son," said Edna,



desiring to change the subject. "Her favorite son, too. It must

have been quite hard to let him go."



Mademoiselle laughed maliciously.

"Her favorite son! Oh, dear! Who could have been imposing such



a tale upon you? Aline Lebrun lives for Victor, and for Victor

alone. She has spoiled him into the worthless creature he is. She



worships him and the ground he walks on. Robert is very well in a




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文