Part 2 - XVII. Conclusion.

by Kate Chopin

　　Conclusion.One month after their meeting on the train, Hosmer and Thérèse hadgone together to Centerville where they had been made one, as thesaying goes, by the good Père Antoine; and without more ado, haddriven back to Place-du-Bois: Mr. and Mrs. Hosmer. The event hadcaused more than the proverbial nine days’ talk. Indeed, now, twomonths after, it was still the absorbing theme that occupied thedwellers of the parish: and such it promised to remain till supplantedby something of sufficient dignity and importance to usurp its place.But of the opinions, favorable and other, that were being exchangedregarding them and their marriage, Hosmer and Thérèse heard little andwould have cared less, so absorbed were they in the overmasteringhappiness that was holding them in thralldom. They could not yet bringthemselves to look at it calmly--this happiness. Even the intoxicationof it seemed a thing that promised to hold. Through love they hadsought each other, and now the fulfillment of that love had broughtmore than tenfold its promise to both. It was a royal love; a generouslove and a rich one in its revelation. It was a magician that hadtouched life for them and changed it into a glory. In giving them toeach other, it was moving them to the fullness of their owncapabilities. Much to do in two little months; but what cannot lovedo?“Could it give a woman more than this?” Thérèse was saying softly toherself. Her hands were clasped as in prayer and pressed togetheragainst her bosom. Her head bowed and her lips touching theintertwined fingers. She spoke of her own emotion; of a certain sweetturmoil that was stirring within her, as she stood out in the softJune twilight waiting for her husband to come. Waiting to hear the newring in his voice that was like a song of joy. Waiting to see that newstrength and courage in his face, of whose significance she lostnothing. To see the new light that had come in his eyes withhappiness. All gifts which love had given her.“Well, at last,” she said, going to the top of the steps to meet himwhen he came. Her welcome was in her eyes.“At last,” he echoed, with a sigh of relief; pressing her hand whichshe held out to him and raising it to his lips.He did not let it go, but passed it through his arm, and together theyturned to walk up and down the veranda.“You didn’t expect me at noon, did you?” he asked, looking down ather.“No; you said you’d be likely not to come; but I hoped for you all thesame. I thought you’d manage it some way.”“No,” he answered her, laughing, “my efforts failed. I used evenstrategy. Held out the temptation of your delightful Creole dishes andall that. Nothing was of any avail. They were all business and I hadto be all business too, the whole day long. It was horribly stupid.”She pressed his arm significantly.“And do you think they will put all that money into the mill, David?Into the business?”“No doubt of it, dear. But they’re shrewd fellows: didn’t committhemselves in any way. Yet I could see they were impressed. We rodefor hours through the woods this morning and they didn’t leave a stickof timber unscrutinized. We were out on the lake, too, and they werelike ferrets into every cranny of the mill.”“But won’t that give you more to do?”“No, it will give me less: division of labor, don’t you see? It willgive me more time to be with you.”“And to help with the plantation,” his wife suggested.“No, no, Madame Thérèse,” he laughed, “I’ll not rob you of youroccupation. I’ll put no bungling hand into your concerns. I know asound piece of timber when I see it; but I should hardly be able totell a sample of Sea Island cotton from the veriest low middling.”“Oh, that’s absurd, David. Do you know you’re getting to talk suchnonsense since we’re married; you remind me sometimes of Melicent.”“Of Melicent? Heaven forbid! Why, I have a letter from her,” he said,feeling in his breast pocket. “The size and substance of it haveactually weighted my pocket the whole day.”“Melicent talking weighty things? That’s something new,” said Thérèseinterested.“Is Melicent ever anything else than new?” he enquired.They went and sat together on the bench at the corner of the veranda,where the fading Western light came over their shoulders. A quizzicalsmile came into his eyes as he unfolded his sister’s letter--withThérèse still holding his arm and sitting very close to him.“Well,” he said, glancing over the first few pages--his wifefollowing--“she’s given up her charming little flat and her quaintlittle English woman: concludes I was right about the expense, etc.,etc. But here comes the gist of the matter,” he said, reading from theletter--“ ‘I know you won’t object to the trip, David, I have my heartso set on it. The expense will be trifling, seeing there are four ofus to divide carriage hire, restaurant and all that: and it counts.“ ‘If you only knew Mrs. Griesmann I’d feel confident of your consent.You’d be perfectly fascinated with her. She’s one of those highlygifted women who knows everything. She’s very much interested in me.Thinks to have found that I have a quick comprehensive intellectualism(she calls it) that has been misdirected. I think there is somethingin that, David; you know yourself I never did care really for society.She says it’s impossible to ever come to a true knowledge of life asit is--which should be every one’s aim--without studying certainfundamental truths and things.’ ”“Oh,” breathed Thérèse, overawed.“But wait--but listen,” said Hosmer, “ ‘Natural History and allthat--and we’re going to take that magnificent trip through theWest--the Yosemite and so forth. It appears the flora of California isespecially interesting and we’re to carry those delicious little tinboxes strapped over our shoulders to hold specimens. Her son anddaughter are both, in their way, striking. He isn’t handsome; ratherthe contrary; but so serene and collected--so intensely bitter--hismother tells me he’s a pessimist. And the daughter really puts me toshame, child as she is, with the amount of her knowledge. She labelsall her mother’s specimens in Latin. Oh, I feel there’s so much to belearned. Mrs. Griesmann thinks I ought to wear glasses during thetrip. Says we often require them without knowing it ourselves--thatthey are so restful. She has some theory about it. I’m trying a pair,and see a great deal better through them than I expected to. Only theydon’t hold on very well, especially when I laugh.“ ‘Who do you suppose seized on to me in Vandervoort’s the other day,but that impertinent Mrs. Belle Worthington! Positively took me by thecoat and commenced to gush about dear sister Thérèse. She said: “Itell you what, my dear--” called me my dear at the highest pitch, andthat odious Mrs. Van Wycke behind us listening and pretending toexamine a lace handkerchief. “That Mrs. Lafirme’s a trump,” shesaid--“too good for most any man. Hope you won’t take offense, but Imust say, your brother David’s a perfect stick--it’s what I alwayssaid.” Can you conceive of such shocking impertinence?’“Well; Belle Worthington does possess the virtue of candor,” saidHosmer amused and folding the letter. “That’s about all there is,except a piece of scandal concerning people you don’t know; thatwouldn’t interest you.”“But it would interest me,” Thérèse insisted, with a little wifelyresentment that her husband should have a knowledge of people thatexcluded her.“Then you shall hear it,” he said, turning to the letter again. “Let’ssee--‘conceive--shocking impertinence--’ oh, here it is.“ ‘Don’t know if you have learned the horrible scandal; too dreadfulto talk about. I shall send you the paper. I always knew that LouDawson was a perfidious creature--and Bert Rodney! You never did likehim, David; but he was always so much the gentleman in hismanners--you must admit that. Who could have dreamed it of him. PoorMrs. Rodney is after all the one to be pitied. She is utterlyprostrated. Refuses to see even her most intimate friends. It all cameof those two vile wretches thinking Jack Dawson out of town when hewasn’t; for he was right there following them around in theirperambulations. And the outcome is that Mr. Rodney has his beautyspoiled they say forever; the shot came very near being fatal. Butpoor, poor Mrs. Rodney!“ ‘Well, good-bye, you dearest David mine. How I wish you both knewMrs. Griesmann. Give that sweet sister Thérèse as many kisses as shewill stand for me.Melicent.’ ”This time Hosmer put the letter into his pocket, and Thérèse askedwith a little puzzled air: “What do you suppose is going to become ofMelicent, anyway, David?”“I don’t know, love, unless she marries my friend Homeyer.”“Now, David, you are trying to mystify me. I believe there’s a streakof perversity in you after all.”“Of course there is; and here comes Mandy to say that ‘suppa’s gittin’cole.’ ”“Aunt B’lindy ’low suppa on de table gittin’ cole,” said Mandy,retreating at once from the fire of their merriment.Thérèse arose and held her two hands out to her husband.He took them but did not rise; only leaned further back on the scatand looked up at her.“Oh, supper’s a bore; don’t you think so?” he asked.“No, I don’t,” she replied. “I’m hungry, and so are you. Come, David.”“But look, Thérèse, just when the moon has climbed over the top ofthat live-oak? We can’t go now. And then Melicent’s request; we mustthink about that.”“Oh, surely not, David,” she said, drawing back.“Then let me tell you something,” and he drew her head down andwhispered something in her pink ear that he just brushed with hislips. It made Thérèse laugh and turn very rosy in the moonlight.Can that be Hosmer? Is this Thérèse? Fie, fie. It is time we wereleaving them.