Chapter XXXVI

by Kate Chopin

　　There was a garden out in the suburbs; a small, leafy corner,with a few green tables under the orange trees. An old cat sleptall day on the stone step in the sun, and an old mulatresseslept her idle hours away in her chair at the open window, till,some one happened to knock on one of the green tables. She hadmilk and cream cheese to sell, and bread and butter. There was noone who could make such excellent coffee or fry a chicken sogolden brown as she.The place was too modest to attract the attention of people offashion, and so quiet as to have escaped the notice of those insearch of pleasure and dissipation. Edna had discovered itaccidentally one day when the high-board gate stood ajar. Shecaught sight of a little green table, blotched with the checkeredsunlight that filtered through the quivering leaves overhead.Within she had found the slumbering mulatresse, the drowsy cat,and a glass of milk which reminded her of the milk she had tastedin Iberville.She often stopped there during her perambulations; sometimestaking a book with her, and sitting an hour or two under the treeswhen she found the place deserted. Once or twice she took a quietdinner there alone, having instructed Celestine beforehand toprepare no dinner at home. It was the last place in the city whereshe would have expected to meet any one she knew.Still she was not astonished when, as she was partaking of amodest dinner late in the afternoon, looking into an open book,stroking the cat, which had made friends with her--she was notgreatly astonished to see Robert come in at the tall garden gate."I am destined to see you only by accident," she said, shovingthe cat off the chair beside her. He was surprised, ill at ease,almost embarrassed at meeting her thus so unexpectedly."Do you come here often?" he asked."I almost live here," she said."I used to drop in very often for a cup of Catiche's goodcoffee. This is the first time since I came back.""She'll bring you a plate, and you will share my dinner.There's always enough for two--even three." Edna had intended to beindifferent and as reserved as he when she met him; she had reachedthe determination by a laborious train of reasoning, incident toone of her despondent moods. But her resolve melted when she sawhim before designing Providence had led him into her path."Why have you kept away from me, Robert?" she asked, closingthe book that lay open upon the table."Why are you so personal, Mrs. Pontellier? Why do you force meto idiotic subterfuges?" he exclaimed with sudden warmth. "Isuppose there's no use telling you I've been very busy, or thatI've been sick, or that I've been to see you and not found you athome. Please let me off with any one of these excuses.""You are the embodiment of selfishness," she said. "You saveyourself something--I don't know what--but there is some selfishmotive, and in sparing yourself you never consider for a momentwhat I think, or how I feel your neglect and indifference. Isuppose this is what you would call unwomanly; but I have got intoa habit of expressing myself. It doesn't matter to me, and you maythink me unwomanly if you like.""No; I only think you cruel, as I said the other day. Maybenot intentionally cruel; but you seem to be forcing me intodisclosures which can result in nothing; as if you would have mebare a wound for the pleasure of looking at it, without theintention or power of healing it.""I'm spoiling your dinner, Robert; never mind what I say. Youhaven't eaten a morsel.""I only came in for a cup of coffee." His sensitive face wasall disfigured with excitement."Isn't this a delightful place?" she remarked. "I am so gladit has never actually been discovered. It is so quiet, so sweet,here. Do you notice there is scarcely a sound to be heard? It's soout of the way; and a good walk from the car. However, I don'tmind walking. I always feel so sorry for women who don't like towalk; they miss so much--so many rare little glimpses of life; andwe women learn so little of life on the whole."Catiche's coffee is always hot. I don't know how shemanages it, here in the open air. Celestine's coffee gets coldbringing it from the kitchen to the dining-room. Three lumps!How can you drink it so sweet? Take some of the cress with your chop;it's so biting and crisp. Then there's the advantage of being able tosmoke with your coffee out here. Now, in the city--aren't you going to smoke?""After a while," he said, laying a cigar on the table."Who gave it to you?" she laughed."I bought it. I suppose I'm getting reckless; I bought awhole box." She was determined not to be personal again and makehim uncomfortable.The cat made friends with him, and climbed into his lap whenhe smoked his cigar. He stroked her silky fur, and talked a littleabout her. He looked at Edna's book, which he had read; and hetold her the end, to save her the trouble of wading through it, hesaid.Again he accompanied her back to her home; and it was afterdusk when they reached the little "pigeon-house." She did not askhim to remain, which he was grateful for, as it permitted him tostay without the discomfort of blundering through an excuse whichhe had no intention of considering. He helped her to light thelamp; then she went into her room to take off her hat and to batheher face and hands.When she came back Robert was not examining the pictures andmagazines as before; he sat off in the shadow, leaning his headback on the chair as if in a reverie. Edna lingered a momentbeside the table, arranging the books there. Then she went acrossthe room to where he sat. She bent over the arm of his chair andcalled his name."Robert," she said, "are you asleep?""No," he answered, looking up at her.She leaned over and kissed him--a soft, cool, delicate kiss,whose voluptuous sting penetrated his whole being-then she movedaway from him. He followed, and took her in his arms, just holdingher close to him. She put her hand up to his face and pressed hischeek against her own. The action was full of love and tenderness.He sought her lips again. Then he drew her down upon the sofabeside him and held her hand in both of his."Now you know," he said, "now you know what I have beenfighting against since last summer at Grand Isle; what drove meaway and drove me back again.""Why have you been fighting against it?" she asked. Her faceglowed with soft lights."Why? Because you were not free; you were Leonce Pontellier'swife. I couldn't help loving you if you were ten times his wife;but so long as I went away from you and kept away I could helptelling you so." She put her free hand up to his shoulder, and thenagainst his cheek, rubbing it softly. He kissed her again. Hisface was warm and flushed."There in Mexico I was thinking of you all the time, andlonging for you.""But not writing to me," she interrupted."Something put into my head that you cared for me; and I lostmy senses. I forgot everything but a wild dream of your some waybecoming my wife.""Your wife!""Religion, loyalty, everything would give way if only you cared.""Then you must have forgotten that I was Leonce Pontellier's wife.""Oh! I was demented, dreaming of wild, impossible things,recalling men who had set their wives free,we have heard of such things.""Yes, we have heard of such things.""I came back full of vague, mad intentions. And when I got here--""When you got here you never came near me!" She was stillcaressing his cheek."I realized what a cur I was to dream of such a thing, even ifyou had been willing."She took his face between her hands and looked into it as ifshe would never withdraw her eyes more. She kissed him on theforehead, the eyes, the cheeks, and the lips."You have been a very, very foolish boy, wasting your timedreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontelliersetting me free! I am no longer one of Mr. Pontellier's possessionsto dispose of or not. I give myself where I choose. If he were to say,'Here, Robert, take her and be happy; she is yours,' I should laughat you both."His face grew a little white. "What do you mean?" he asked.There was a knock at the door. Old Celestine came in to saythat Madame Ratignolle's servant had come around the back way witha message that Madame had been taken sick and begged Mrs.Pontellier to go to her immediately."Yes, yes," said Edna, rising; "I promised. Tell her yes--towait for me. I'll go back with her.""Let me walk over with you," offered Robert."No," she said; "I will go with the servant. She went intoher room to put on her hat, and when she came in again she sat oncemore upon the sofa beside him. He had not stirred. She put herarms about his neck."Good-by, my sweet Robert. Tell me good-by." He kissed herwith a degree of passion which had not before entered into hiscaress, and strained her to him."I love you," she whispered, "only you; no one but you. Itwas you who awoke me last summer out of a life-long, stupid dream.Oh! you have made me so unhappy with your indifference. Oh! I havesuffered, suffered! Now you are here we shall love each other, myRobert. We shall be everything to each other. Nothing else in theworld is of any consequence. I must go to my friend; but you willwait for me? No matter how late; you will wait for me, Robert?""Don't go; don't go! Oh! Edna, stay with me," he pleaded."Why should you go? Stay with me, stay with me.""I shall come back as soon as I can; I shall find you here."She buried her face in his neck, and said good-by again. Herseductive voice, together with his great love for her, hadenthralled his senses, had deprived him of every impulse but thelonging to hold her and keep her.