Madame Bovary - Page 50/262

But it was above all the meal-times that were unbearable to her, in this

small room on the ground floor, with its smoking stove, its creaking

door, the walls that sweated, the damp flags; all the bitterness in life

seemed served up on her plate, and with smoke of the boiled beef there

rose from her secret soul whiffs of sickliness. Charles was a slow

eater; she played with a few nuts, or, leaning on her elbow, amused

herself with drawing lines along the oilcloth table cover with the point

of her knife.

She now let everything in her household take care of itself, and Madame

Bovary senior, when she came to spend part of Lent at Tostes, was much

surprised at the change. She who was formerly so careful, so dainty,

now passed whole days without dressing, wore grey cotton stockings, and

burnt tallow candles. She kept saying they must be economical since

they were not rich, adding that she was very contented, very happy, that

Tostes pleased her very much, with other speeches that closed the mouth

of her mother-in-law. Besides, Emma no longer seemed inclined to follow

her advice; once even, Madame Bovary having thought fit to maintain that

mistresses ought to keep an eye on the religion of their servants, she

had answered with so angry a look and so cold a smile that the good

woman did not interfere again.

Emma was growing difficult, capricious. She ordered dishes for herself,

then she did not touch them; one day drank only pure milk, the next

cups of tea by the dozen. Often she persisted in not going out, then,

stifling, threw open the windows and put on light dresses. After she had

well scolded her servant she gave her presents or sent her out to see

neighbours, just as she sometimes threw beggars all the silver in her

purse, although she was by no means tender-hearted or easily accessible

to the feelings of others, like most country-bred people, who always

retain in their souls something of the horny hardness of the paternal

hands.

Towards the end of February old Rouault, in memory of his cure, himself

brought his son-in-law a superb turkey, and stayed three days at Tostes.

Charles being with his patients, Emma kept him company. He smoked in the

room, spat on the firedogs, talked farming, calves, cows, poultry, and

municipal council, so that when he left she closed the door on him with

a feeling of satisfaction that surprised even herself. Moreover she no

longer concealed her contempt for anything or anybody, and at times she

set herself to express singular opinions, finding fault with that which

others approved, and approving things perverse and immoral, all of which

made her husband open his eyes widely.