the awakening and selected short stories(苏醒)-第3部分
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box； she was quite used to receiving them when away from home。 The
pates and fruit were brought to the dining…room； the bonbons were passed
around。 And the ladies； selecting with dainty and discriminating fingers
and a little greedily； all declared that Mr。 Pontellier was the best husband
in the world。 Mrs。 Pontellier was forced to admit that she knew of none
better。
IV
It would have been a difficult matter for Mr。 Pontellier to define to his
own satisfaction or any one else's wherein his wife failed in her duty
toward their children。 It was something which he felt rather than
perceived； and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and
ample atonement。
If one of the little Pontellier boys took a tumble whilst at play； he was
not apt to rush crying to his mother's arms for comfort； he would more
likely pick himself up； wipe the water out of his eves and the sand out of
his mouth； and go on playing。 Tots as they were； they pulled together
and stood their ground in childish battles with doubled fists and uplifted
voices； which usually prevailed against the other mother…tots。 The
quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance； only good to
button up waists and panties and to brush and part hair； since it seemed to
be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed。
In short； Mrs。 Pontellier was not a mother…woman。 The
motherwomen seemed to prevail that summer at Grand Isle。 It was easy
to know them； fluttering about with extended； protecting wings when any
harm； real or imaginary； threatened their precious brood。 They were
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women who idolized their children； worshiped their husbands； and
esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow
wings as ministering angels。
Many of them were delicious in the role； one of them was the
embodiment of every womanly grace and charm。 If her husband did not
adore her； he was a brute； deserving of death by slow torture。 Her name
was Adele Ratignolle。 There are no words to describe her save the old
ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance
and the fair lady of our dreams。 There was nothing subtle or hidden
about her charms； her beauty was all there； flaming and apparent： the
spun…gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain； the blue eyes
that were like nothing but sapphires； two lips that pouted； that were so red
one could only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in
looking at them。 She was growing a little stout； but it did not seem to
detract an iota from the grace of every step； pose； gesture。 One would
not have wanted her white neck a mite less full or her beautiful arms more
slender。 Never were hands more exquisite than hers； and it was a joy to
look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold thimble to
her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little night…drawers or
fashioned a bodice or a bib。
Madame Ratignolle was very fond of Mrs。 Pontellier； and often she
took her sewing and went over to sit with her in the afternoons。 She was
sitting there the afternoon of the day the box arrived from New Orleans。
She had possession of the rocker； and she was busily engaged in sewing
upon a diminutive pair of night…drawers。
She had brought the pattern of the drawers for Mrs。 Pontellier to cut
outa marvel of construction； fashioned to enclose a baby's body so
effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment； like
an Eskimo's。 They were designed for winter wear； when treacherous
drafts came down chimneys and insidious currents of deadly cold found
their way through key…holes。
Mrs。 Pontellier's mind was quite at rest concerning the present material
needs of her children； and she could not see the use of anticipating and
making winter night garments the subject of her summer meditations。
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But she did not want to appear unamiable and uninterested； so she had
brought forth newspapers； which she spread upon the floor of the gallery；
and under Madame Ratignolle's directions she had cut a pattern of the
impervious garment。
Robert was there； seated as he had been the Sunday before； and Mrs。
Pontellier also occupied her former position on the upper step； leaning
listlessly against the post。 Beside her was a box of bonbons； which she
held out at intervals to Madame Ratignolle。
That lady seemed at a loss to make a selection； but finally settled upon
a stick of nougat； wondering if it were not too rich； whether it could
possibly hurt her。 Madame Ratignolle had been married seven years。
About every two years she had a baby。 At that time she had three babies；
and was beginning to think of a fourth one。 She was always talking
about her 〃condition。〃 Her 〃condition〃 was in no way apparent； and no
one would have known a thing about it but for her persistence in making it
the subject of conversation。
Robert started to reassure her； asserting that he had known a lady who
had subsisted upon nougat during the entirebut seeing the color mount
into Mrs。 Pontellier's face he checked himself and changed the subject。
Mrs。 Pontellier； though she had married a Creole； was not thoroughly
at home in the society of Creoles； never before had she been thrown so
intimately among them。 There were only Creoles that summer at
Lebrun's。 They all knew each other； and felt like one large family； among
whom existed the most amicable relations。 A characteristic which
distinguished them and which impressed Mrs。 Pontellier most forcibly was
their entire absence of prudery。 Their freedom of expression was at first
incomprehensible to her； though she had no difficulty in reconciling it with
a lofty chastity which in the Creole woman seems to be inborn and
unmistakable。
Never would Edna Pontellier forget the shock with which she heard
Madame Ratignolle relating to old Monsieur Farival the harrowing story
of one of her accouchements； withholding no intimate detail。 She was
growing accustomed to like shocks； but she could not keep the mounting
color back from her cheeks。 Oftener than once her coming had interrupted
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the droll story with which Robert was entertaining some amused group of
married women。
A book had gone the rounds of the pension。 When it came her turn to
read it； she did so with profound astonishment。 She felt moved to read
the book in secret and solitude； though none of the others had done so；to
hide it from view at the sound of approaching footsteps。 It was openly
criticised and freely discussed at table。 Mrs。 Pontellier gave over being
astonished； and concluded that wonders would never cease。
V
They formed a congenial group sitting there that summer afternoon
Madame Ratignolle sewing away； often stopping to relate a story or
incident with much expressive gesture of her perfect hands； Robert and
Mrs。 Pontellier sitting idle； exchanging occasional words； glances or
smiles which indicated a certain advanced stage of intimacy and
camaraderie。
He had lived in her shadow during the past month。 No one thought
anything of it。 Many had predicted that Robert would devote himself to
Mrs。 Pontellier when he arrived。 Since the age of fifteen； which was
eleven years before； Robert each summer at Grand Isle had constituted
himself the devoted attendant of some fair dame or damsel。 Sometimes it
was a young girl； again a widow； but as often as not it was some
interesting married woman。
For two consecutive seasons he lived in the sunlight of Mademoiselle
Duvigne's presence。 But she died between summers； then Robert posed
as an inconsolable； prostrating himself at the feet of Madame Ratignolle
for whatever crumbs of sympathy and comfort she might be pleased to
vouchsafe。
Mrs。 Pontellier liked to sit and gaze at her fair companion as she might
look upon a faultless Madonna。
〃Could any one fathom the cruelty beneath that fair exterior？〃
murmured Robert。 〃She knew that I adored her once； and she let me
adore her。 It was ‘Robert； come； go； stand up； sit down； do this； do that；
see if the baby sleeps； my thimble； please； that I
