Chapter XX

by Kate Chopin

　　It was during such a mood that Edna hunted up MademoiselleReisz. She had not forgotten the rather disagreeable impressionleft upon her by their last interview; but she nevertheless felt adesire to see her--above all, to listen while she played upon thepiano. Quite early in the afternoon she started upon her quest forthe pianist. Unfortunately she had mislaid or lost MademoiselleReisz's card, and looking up her address in the city directory, shefound that the woman lived on Bienville Street, some distance away.The directory which fell into her hands was a year or more old,however, and upon reaching the number indicated, Edna discoveredthat the house was occupied by a respectable family of mulattoeswho had chambres garnies to let. They had been living therefor six months, and knew absolutely nothing of a MademoiselleReisz. In fact, they knew nothing of any of their neighbors; theirlodgers were all people of the highest distinction, they assuredEdna. She did not linger to discuss class distinctions with MadamePouponne, but hastened to a neighboring grocery store, feeling surethat Mademoiselle would have left her address with the proprietor.He knew Mademoiselle Reisz a good deal better than he wantedto know her, he informed his questioner. In truth, he did not wantto know her at all, or anything concerning her--the mostdisagreeable and unpopular woman who ever lived in BienvilleStreet. He thanked heaven she had left the neighborhood, and wasequally thankful that he did not know where she had gone.Edna's desire to see Mademoiselle Reisz had increased tenfoldsince these unlooked-for obstacles had arisen to thwart it.She was wondering who could give her the information she sought,when it suddenly occurred to her that Madame Lebrun would bethe one most likely to do so. She knew it was useless to askMadame Ratignolle, who was on the most distant terms withthe musician, and preferred to know nothing concerning her.She had once been almost as emphatic in expressing herselfupon the subject as the corner grocer.Edna knew that Madame Lebrun had returned to the city, for itwas the middle of November. And she also knew where the Lebrunslived, on Chartres Street.Their home from the outside looked like a prison, with ironbars before the door and lower windows. The iron bars were a relicof the old regime, and no one had ever thought of dislodgingthem. At the side was a high fence enclosing the garden. A gateor door opening upon the street was locked. Edna rang the bell atthis side garden gate, and stood upon the banquette, waiting to beadmitted.It was Victor who opened the gate for her. A black woman,wiping her hands upon her apron, was close at his heels. Beforeshe saw them Edna could hear them in altercation, thewoman--plainly an anomaly--claiming the right to be allowed to perform herduties, one of which was to answer the bell.Victor was surprised and delighted to see Mrs. Pontellier, andhe made no attempt to conceal either his astonishment or hisdelight. He was a dark-browed, good-looking youngster of nineteen,greatly resembling his mother, but with ten times her impetuosity.He instructed the black woman to go at once and inform MadameLebrun that Mrs. Pontellier desired to see her. The woman grumbleda refusal to do part of her duty when she had not been permitted todo it all, and started back to her interrupted task of weeding thegarden. Whereupon Victor administered a rebuke in the form of avolley of abuse, which, owing to its rapidity and incoherence, wasall but incomprehensible to Edna. Whatever it was, the rebuke wasconvincing, for the woman dropped her hoe and went mumbling intothe house.Edna did not wish to enter. It was very pleasant there on theside porch, where there were chairs, a wicker lounge, and a smalltable. She seated herself, for she was tired from her long tramp;and she began to rock gently and smooth out the folds of her silkparasol. Victor drew up his chair beside her. He at onceexplained that the black woman's offensive conduct was all due toimperfect training, as he was not there to take her in hand. Hehad only come up from the island the morning before, and expectedto return next day. He stayed all winter at the island; he livedthere, and kept the place in order and got things ready for thesummer visitors.But a man needed occasional relaxation, he informed Mrs.Pontellier, and every now and again he drummed up a pretext tobring him to the city. My! but he had had a time of it the eveningbefore! He wouldn't want his mother to know, and he began to talkin a whisper. He was scintillant with recollections. Of course,he couldn't think of telling Mrs. Pontellier all about it, shebeing a woman and not comprehending such things. But it all beganwith a girl peeping and smiling at him through the shutters as hepassed by. Oh! but she was a beauty! Certainly he smiled back, andwent up and talked to her. Mrs. Pontellier did not know him if shesupposed he was one to let an opportunity like that escape him.Despite herself, the youngster amused her. She must have betrayedin her look some degree of interest or entertainment. The boy grewmore daring, and Mrs. Pontellier might have found herself, in alittle while, listening to a highly colored story but for thetimely appearance of Madame Lebrun.That lady was still clad in white, according to her custom of the summer.Her eyes beamed an effusive welcome. Would not Mrs. Pontellier go inside?Would she partake of some refreshment? Why had she not been there before?How was that dear Mr. Pontellier and how were those sweet children?Had Mrs. Pontellier ever known such a warm November?Victor went and reclined on the wicker lounge behind his mother's chair,where he commanded a view of Edna's face. He had taken her parasolfrom her hands while he spoke to her, and he now lifted it andtwirled it above him as he lay on his back. When Madame Lebruncomplained that it was so dull coming back to the city;that she saw so few people now; that even Victor, when he cameup from the island for a day or two, had so much to occupy himand engage his time; then it was that the youth went intocontortions on the lounge and winked mischievously at Edna.She somehow felt like a confederate in crime, and tried to looksevere and disapproving.There had been but two letters from Robert, with little inthem, they told her. Victor said it was really not worth while togo inside for the letters, when his mother entreated him to go insearch of them. He remembered the contents, which in truth herattled off very glibly when put to the test.One letter was written from Vera Cruz and the other from theCity of Mexico. He had met Montel, who was doing everything towardhis advancement. So far, the financial situation was noimprovement over the one he had left in New Orleans, but of coursethe prospects were vastly better. He wrote of the City of Mexico,the buildings, the people and their habits, the conditions of lifewhich he found there. He sent his love to the family. He incloseda check to his mother, and hoped she would affectionately rememberhim to all his friends. That was about the substance of the twoletters. Edna felt that if there had been a message for her, shewould have received it. The despondent frame of mind in which shehad left home began again to overtake her, and she remembered thatshe wished to find Mademoiselle Reisz.Madame Lebrun knew where Mademoiselle Reisz lived. She gaveEdna the address, regretting that she would not consent to stay andspend the remainder of the afternoon, and pay a visit toMademoiselle Reisz some other day. The afternoon was already welladvanced.Victor escorted her out upon the banquette, lifted her parasol,and held it over her while he walked to the car with her.He entreated her to bear in mind that the disclosures ofthe afternoon were strictly confidential. She laughedand bantered him a little, remembering too late that sheshould have been dignified and reserved."How handsome Mrs. Pontellier looked!" said Madame Lebrunto her son."Ravishing!" he admitted. "The city atmosphere has improved her.Some way she doesn't seem like the same woman."