Mr.Pontellier scanned the names of his wife's callers, reading some of them aloud, with comments as he read.
"`The Misses Delasidas.' I worked a big deal in futures for their father this morning; nice girls; it's time they were getting married.`Mrs.Belthrop.' I tell you what it is, Edna; you can't afford to snub Mrs.Belthrop.Why, Belthrop could buy and sell us ten times over.His business is worth a good, round sum to me.You'd better write her a note.
`Mrs.James Highcamp.' Hugh! the less you have to do with Mrs.Highcamp, the better.`Madame Laforce.' Came all the way from Carrolton, too, poor old soul.'Miss Wiggs,' `Mrs.Eleanor Boltons.'" He pushed the cards aside.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Edna, who had been fuming."Why are you taking the thing so seriously and making such a fuss over it?""I'm not making any fuss over it.But it's just such seeming trifles that we've got to take seriously; such things count."The fish was scorched.Mr.Pontellier would not touch it.Edna said she did not mind a little scorched taste.The roast was in some way not to his fancy, and he did not like the manner in which the vegetables were served.
"It seems to me," he said, "we spend money enough in this house to procure at least one meal a day which a man could eat and retain his self- respect.""You used to think the cook was a treasure," returned Edna, indifferently.
"Perhaps she was when she first came; but cooks are only human.They need looking after, like any other class of persons that you employ.Suppose I didn't look after the clerks in my office, just let them run things their own way; they'd soon make a nice mess of me and my business.""Where are you going?" asked Edna, seeing that her husband arose from table without having eaten a morsel except a taste of the highly- seasoned soup.
"I'm going to get my dinner at the club.Good night." He went into the hall, took his hat and stick from the stand, and left the house.
She was somewhat familiar with such scenes.They had often made her very unhappy.On a few previous occasions she had been completely deprived of any desire to finish her dinner.Sometimes she had gone into the kitchen to administer a tardy rebuke to the cook.Once she went to her room and studied the cookbook during an entire evening, finally writing out a menu for the week, which left her harassed with a feeling that, after all, she had accomplished no good that was worth the name.
But that evening Edna finished her dinner alone, with forced deliberation.Her face was flushed and her eyes flamed with some inward fire that lighted them.After finishing her dinner she went to her room, having instructed the boy to tell any other callers that she was indisposed.
It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low.She went and stood at an openwindow and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below.All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage.She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet, half- darkness which met her moods.But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars.They jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope.She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro down its whole length, without stopping, without resting.She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her.Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet.When she saw it lying there, she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it.But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the little glittering circlet.
In a sweeping passion she seized a glass vase from the table and flung it upon the tiles of the hearth.She wanted to destroy something.The crash and clatter were what she wanted to hear.
A maid, alarmed at the din of breaking glass, entered the room to discover what was the matter.
"A vase fell upon the hearth," said Edna."Never mind; leave it till morning.""Oh! you might get some of the glass in your feet, ma'am," insisted the young woman, picking up bits of the broken vase that were scattered upon the carpet."And here's your ring, ma'am, under the chair."Edna held out her hand, and taking the ring, slipped it upon her finger.
