Chapter XIV

by Kate Chopin

　　The youngest boy, Etienne, had been very naughty, MadameRatignolle said, as she delivered him into the hands of his mother.He had been unwilling to go to bed and had made a scene; whereuponshe had taken charge of him and pacified him as well as she could.Raoul had been in bed and asleep for two hours.The youngster was in his long white nightgown, that kepttripping him up as Madame Ratignolle led him along by the hand.With the other chubby fist he rubbed his eyes, which were heavywith sleep and ill humor. Edna took him in her arms, and seatingherself in the rocker, began to coddle and caress him, calling himall manner of tender names, soothing him to sleep.It was not more than nine o'clock. No one had yet gone to bedbut the children.Leonce had been very uneasy at first, Madame Ratignolle said,and had wanted to start at once for the Cheniere. ButMonsieur Farival had assured him that his wife was only overcomewith sleep and fatigue, that Tonie would bring her safely backlater in the day; and he had thus been dissuaded from crossing thebay. He had gone over to Klein's, looking up some cotton brokerwhom he wished to see in regard to securities, exchanges, stocks,bonds, or something of the sort, Madame Ratignolle did not rememberwhat. He said he would not remain away late. She herself wassuffering from heat and oppression, she said. She carried a bottleof salts and a large fan. She would not consent to remain withEdna, for Monsieur Ratignolle was alone, and he detested above allthings to be left alone.When Etienne had fallen asleep Edna bore him into the backroom, and Robert went and lifted the mosquito bar that she mightlay the child comfortably in his bed. The quadroon had vanished.When they emerged from the cottage Robert bade Edna good-night."Do you know we have been together the whole livelong day,Robert--since early this morning?" she said at parting."All but the hundred years when you were sleeping.Goodnight."He pressed her hand and went away in the direction of thebeach. He did not join any of the others, but walked alone towardthe Gulf.Edna stayed outside, awaiting her husband's return. She hadno desire to sleep or to retire; nor did she feel like going overto sit with the Ratignolles, or to join Madame Lebrun and a groupwhose animated voices reached her as they sat in conversationbefore the house. She let her mind wander back over her stay atGrand Isle; and she tried to discover wherein this summer had beendifferent from any and every other summer of her life. She couldonly realize that she herself--her present self--was in some waydifferent from the other self. That she was seeing with differenteyes and making the acquaintance of new conditions in herself thatcolored and changed her environment, she did not yet suspect.She wondered why Robert had gone away and left her. It didnot occur to her to think he might have grown tired of being withher the livelong day. She was not tired, and she felt that he wasnot. She regretted that he had gone. It was so much more naturalto have him stay when he was not absolutely required to leave her.As Edna waited for her husband she sang low a little song thatRobert had sung as they crossed the bay. It began with "Ah!Si tu savais," and every verse ended with "si tu savais."Robert's voice was not pretentious. It was musical and true.The voice, the notes, the whole refrain haunted her memory.