Chapter XXXV

by Kate Chopin

　　The morning was full of sunlight and hope. Edna could seebefore her no denial--only the promise of excessive joy. She layin bed awake, with bright eyes full of speculation. "He loves you,poor fool." If she could but get that conviction firmly fixed inher mind, what mattered about the rest? She felt she had beenchildish and unwise the night before in giving herself over todespondency. She recapitulated the motives which no doubtexplained Robert's reserve. They were not insurmountable; theywould not hold if he really loved her; they could not hold againsther own passion, which he must come to realize in time. Shepictured him going to his business that morning. She even saw howhe was dressed; how he walked down one street, and turned thecorner of another; saw him bending over his desk, talking to peoplewho entered the office, going to his lunch, and perhaps watchingfor her on the street. He would come to her in the afternoon orevening, sit and roll his cigarette, talk a little, and go away ashe had done the night before. But how delicious it would be to havehim there with her! She would have no regrets, nor seek to penetratehis reserve if he still chose to wear it.Edna ate her breakfast only half dressed. The maid broughther a delicious printed scrawl from Raoul, expressing his love,asking her to send him some bonbons, and telling her they had foundthat morning ten tiny white pigs all lying in a row beside Lidie'sbig white pig.A letter also came from her husband, saying he hoped to beback early in March, and then they would get ready for that journeyabroad which he had promised her so long, which he felt now fullyable to afford; he felt able to travel as people should, withoutany thought of small economies--thanks to his recent speculationsin Wall Street.Much to her surprise she received a note from Arobin, writtenat midnight from the club. It was to say good morning to her, tohope she had slept well, to assure her of his devotion, which hetrusted she in some faintest manner returned.All these letters were pleasing to her. She answered thechildren in a cheerful frame of mind, promising them bonbons, andcongratulating them upon their happy find of the little pigs.She answered her husband with friendly evasiveness, --not withany fixed design to mislead him, only because all sense of realityhad gone out of her life; she had abandoned herself to Fate, andawaited the consequences with indifference.To Arobin's note she made no reply. She put it underCelestine's stove-lid.Edna worked several hours with much spirit. She saw no onebut a picture dealer, who asked her if it were true that she wasgoing abroad to study in Paris.She said possibly she might, and he negotiated with her forsome Parisian studies to reach him in time for the holiday trade inDecember.Robert did not come that day. She was keenly disappointed.He did not come the following day, nor the next. Each morningshe awoke with hope, and each night she was a prey to despondency.She was tempted to seek him out. But far from yielding to the impulse,she avoided any occasion which might throw her in his way. She did notgo to Mademoiselle Reisz's nor pass by Madame Lebrun's, as she mighthave done if he had still been in Mexico.When Arobin, one night, urged her to drive with him, shewent--out to the lake, on the Shell Road. His horses were full ofmettle, and even a little unmanageable. She liked the rapid gaitat which they spun along, and the quick, sharp sound of the horses'hoofs on the hard road. They did not stop anywhere to eat or todrink. Arobin was not needlessly imprudent. But they ate and theydrank when they regained Edna's little dining-room--which wascomparatively early in the evening.It was late when he left her. It was getting to be more thana passing whim with Arobin to see her and be with her. He haddetected the latent sensuality, which unfolded under his delicatesense of her nature's requirements like a torpid, torrid, sensitiveblossom.There was no despondency when she fell asleep that night; norwas there hope when she awoke in the morning.