The Awakening and Selected Short Stories - Page 64/161

It was during such a mood that Edna hunted up Mademoiselle Reisz. She

had not forgotten the rather disagreeable impression left upon her

by their last interview; but she nevertheless felt a desire to see

her--above all, to listen while she played upon the piano. Quite early

in the afternoon she started upon her quest for the pianist.

Unfortunately she had mislaid or lost Mademoiselle Reisz's card, and

looking up her address in the city directory, she found that the woman

lived on Bienville Street, some distance away. The directory which fell

into her hands was a year or more old, however, and upon reaching the

number indicated, Edna discovered that the house was occupied by a

respectable family of mulattoes who had chambres garnies to let. They

had been living there for six months, and knew absolutely nothing of

a Mademoiselle Reisz. In fact, they knew nothing of any of their

neighbors; their lodgers were all people of the highest distinction,

they assured Edna. She did not linger to discuss class distinctions with

Madame Pouponne, but hastened to a neighboring grocery store, feeling

sure that Mademoiselle would have left her address with the proprietor.

He knew Mademoiselle Reisz a good deal better than he wanted to know

her, he informed his questioner. In truth, he did not want to know her

at all, or anything concerning her--the most disagreeable and unpopular

woman who ever lived in Bienville Street. He thanked heaven she had left

the neighborhood, and was equally thankful that he did not know where

she had gone.

Edna's desire to see Mademoiselle Reisz had increased tenfold since

these unlooked-for obstacles had arisen to thwart it. She was wondering

who could give her the information she sought, when it suddenly occurred

to her that Madame Lebrun would be the one most likely to do so. She

knew it was useless to ask Madame Ratignolle, who was on the most

distant terms with the musician, and preferred to know nothing

concerning her. She had once been almost as emphatic in expressing

herself upon the subject as the corner grocer.

Edna knew that Madame Lebrun had returned to the city, for it was

the middle of November. And she also knew where the Lebruns lived, on

Chartres Street.

Their home from the outside looked like a prison, with iron bars before

the door and lower windows. The iron bars were a relic of the old

regime, and no one had ever thought of dislodging them. At the side

was a high fence enclosing the garden. A gate or door opening upon the

street was locked. Edna rang the bell at this side garden gate, and

stood upon the banquette, waiting to be admitted.