READ STUDY GUIDE: Chapters I–V |
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Part V
| They formed a congenial group sitting there that summer |
| afternoon—Madame Ratignolle sewing away, often stopping to relate |
| a story or incident with much expressive gesture of her perfect |
| hands; Robert and Mrs. Pontellier sitting idle, exchanging |
| occasional words, glances or smiles which indicated a certain |
| advanced stage of intimacy and camaraderie. |
| He had lived in her shadow during the past month. No one |
| thought anything of it. Many had predicted that Robert would |
| devote himself to Mrs. Pontellier when he arrived. Since the age |
| of fifteen, which was eleven years before, Robert each summer at |
| Grand Isle had constituted himself the devoted attendant of some |
| fair dame or damsel. Sometimes it was a young girl, again a widow; |
| but as often as not it was some interesting married woman. |
| For two consecutive seasons he lived in the sunlight of |
| Mademoiselle Duvigne's presence. 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. |
| Mrs. Pontellier liked to sit and gaze at her fair companion as |
| she might look upon a faultless Madonna. |
| "Could any one fathom the cruelty beneath that fair exterior?" |
| murmured Robert. "She knew that I adored her once, and she let me |
| adore her. It was `Robert, come; go; stand up; sit down; do this; |
| do that; see if the baby sleeps; my thimble, please, that I left |
| God knows where. Come and read Daudet to me while I sew.'" |
| "Par exemple! I never had to ask. You were always there |
| under my feet, like a troublesome cat." |
| "You mean like an adoring dog. And just as soon as Ratignolle |
| appeared on the scene, then it WAS like a dog. `Passez! Adieu! |
| Allez vous-en!'" |
| "Perhaps I feared to make Alphonse jealous," she interjoined, with |
| excessive naivete. That made them all laugh. The right hand |
| jealous of the left! The heart jealous of the soul! But for that |
| matter, the Creole husband is never jealous; with him the gangrene |
| passion is one which has become dwarfed by disuse. |
| Meanwhile Robert, addressing Mrs Pontellier, continued to tell |
| of his one time hopeless passion for Madame Ratignolle; of |
| sleepless nights, of consuming flames till the very sea sizzled |
| when he took his daily plunge. While the lady at the needle kept |
| up a little running, contemptuous comment: |
| "Blagueur—farceur—gros bete, va!" |
| He never assumed this seriocomic tone when alone with Mrs. |
| Pontellier. She never knew precisely what to make of it; at that |
| moment it was impossible for her to guess how much of it was jest |
| and what proportion was earnest. It was understood that he had |
| often spoken words of love to Madame Ratignolle, without any |
| thought of being taken seriously. Mrs. Pontellier was glad he had |
| not assumed a similar role toward herself. It would have been |
| unacceptable and annoying. |
| Mrs. Pontellier had brought her sketching materials, which she |
| sometimes dabbled with in an unprofessional way. She liked the |
| dabbling. She felt in it satisfaction of a kind which no other |
| employment afforded her. |
| She had long wished to try herself on Madame Ratignolle. |
| Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that |
| moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of |
| the fading day enriching her splendid color. |
| Robert crossed over and seated himself upon the step below |
| Mrs. Pontellier, that he might watch her work. She handled her |
| brushes with a certain ease and freedom which came, not from long |
| and close acquaintance with them, but from a natural aptitude. |
| Robert followed her work with close attention, giving forth little |
| ejaculatory expressions of appreciation in French, which he addressed to |
| Madame Ratignolle. |
| "Mais ce n'est pas mal! Elle s'y connait, elle a de la force, oui." |
| During his oblivious attention he once quietly rested his head |
| against Mrs. Pontellier's arm. As gently she repulsed him. Once |
| again he repeated the offense. She could not but believe it to be |
| thoughtlessness on his part; yet that was no reason she should |
| submit to it. She did not remonstrate, except again to repulse him |
| quietly but firmly. He offered no apology. |
 The picture completed bore no resemblance to Madame Ratignolle. |
| She was greatly disappointed to find that it did not look like her. |
| But it was a fair enough piece of work, and in many respects |
| satisfying. |
| Mrs. Pontellier evidently did not think so. After surveying |
| the sketch critically she drew a broad smudge of paint across its |
| surface, and crumpled the paper between her hands. |
| The youngsters came tumbling up the steps, the quadroon |
| following at the respectful distance which they required her to |
| observe. Mrs. Pontellier made them carry her paints and things |
| into the house. She sought to detain them for a little talk and |
| some pleasantry. But they were greatly in earnest. They had only |
| come to investigate the contents of the bonbon box. They accepted |
| without murmuring what she chose to give them, each holding out two |
| chubby hands scoop-like, in the vain hope that they might be |
| filled; and then away they went. |
| 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. Children freshly befurbelowed, were gathering for |
| their games under the oaks. Their voices were high and |
| penetrating. |
| Madame Ratignolle folded her sewing, placing thimble, |
| scissors, and thread all neatly together in the roll, which she |
| pinned securely. She complained of faintness. Mrs. Pontellier |
| flew for the cologne water and a fan. She bathed Madame Ratignolle's |
| face with cologne, while Robert plied the fan with unnecessary vigor. |
| The spell was soon over, and Mrs. Pontellier could not help |
| wondering if there were not a little imagination responsible for |
| its origin, for the rose tint had never faded from her friend's face. |
| She stood watching the fair woman walk down the long line of |
| galleries with the grace and majesty which queens are sometimes |
| supposed to possess. Her little ones ran to meet her. 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. Though, as everybody well knew, the doctor had |
| forbidden her to lift so much as a pin! |
| "Are you going bathing?" asked Robert of Mrs. Pontellier. It |
| was not so much a question as a reminder. |
| "Oh, no," she answered, with a tone of indecision. "I'm |
| tired; I think not." Her glance wandered from his face away toward |
| the Gulf, whose sonorous murmur reached her like a loving but |
| imperative entreaty. |
| "Oh, come!" he insisted. "You mustn't miss your bath. Come |
| on. The water must be delicious; it will not hurt you. Come." |
| He reached up for her big, rough straw hat that hung on a peg |
| outside the door, and put it on her head. They descended the |
| steps, and walked away together toward the beach. The sun was low |
| in the west and the breeze was soft and warm. |
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