The Awakening and Selected Short Stories - Page 109/161

"Oh! you know I want to stay if you will let me!" he exclaimed. All

the softness came back. She laughed, and went and put her hand on his

shoulder.

"This is the first moment you have seemed like the old Robert. I'll

go tell Celestine." She hurried away to tell Celestine to set an extra

place. She even sent her off in search of some added delicacy which

she had not thought of for herself. And she recommended great care in

dripping the coffee and having the omelet done to a proper turn.

When she reentered, Robert was turning over magazines, sketches,

and things that lay upon the table in great disorder. He picked up a

photograph, and exclaimed:

"Alcee Arobin! What on earth is his picture doing here?"

"I tried to make a sketch of his head one day," answered Edna, "and

he thought the photograph might help me. It was at the other house. I

thought it had been left there. I must have packed it up with my drawing

materials."

"I should think you would give it back to him if you have finished with

it."

"Oh! I have a great many such photographs. I never think of returning

them. They don't amount to anything." Robert kept on looking at the

picture.

"It seems to me--do you think his head worth drawing? Is he a friend of

Mr. Pontellier's? You never said you knew him."

"He isn't a friend of Mr. Pontellier's; he's a friend of mine. I always

knew him--that is, it is only of late that I know him pretty well. But

I'd rather talk about you, and know what you have been seeing and doing

and feeling out there in Mexico." Robert threw aside the picture.

"I've been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the

quiet, grassy street of the Cheniere; the old fort at Grande Terre. I've

been working like a machine, and feeling like a lost soul. There was

nothing interesting."

She leaned her head upon her hand to shade her eyes from the light.

"And what have you been seeing and doing and feeling all these days?" he

asked.

"I've been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the

quiet, grassy street of the Cheniere Caminada; the old sunny fort at

Grande Terre. I've been working with a little more comprehension than

a machine, and still feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing

interesting."

"Mrs. Pontellier, you are cruel," he said, with feeling, closing his

eyes and resting his head back in his chair. They remained in silence

till old Celestine announced dinner.