The Awakening and Selected Short Stories - Page 72/161

The old gentleman lifted his shaggy eyebrows, protruded his thick nether

lip, and tapped the arms of his chair with his cushioned fingertips.

"What have you been doing to her, Pontellier?"

"Doing! Parbleu!"

"Has she," asked the Doctor, with a smile, "has she been associating

of late with a circle of pseudo-intellectual women--super-spiritual

superior beings? My wife has been telling me about them."

"That's the trouble," broke in Mr. Pontellier, "she hasn't been

associating with any one. She has abandoned her Tuesdays at home, has

thrown over all her acquaintances, and goes tramping about by herself,

moping in the street-cars, getting in after dark. I tell you she's

peculiar. I don't like it; I feel a little worried over it."

This was a new aspect for the Doctor. "Nothing hereditary?" he asked,

seriously. "Nothing peculiar about her family antecedents, is there?"

"Oh, no, indeed! She comes of sound old Presbyterian Kentucky stock. The

old gentleman, her father, I have heard, used to atone for his weekday

sins with his Sunday devotions. I know for a fact, that his race horses

literally ran away with the prettiest bit of Kentucky farming land

I ever laid eyes upon. Margaret--you know Margaret--she has all the

Presbyterianism undiluted. And the youngest is something of a vixen. By

the way, she gets married in a couple of weeks from now."

"Send your wife up to the wedding," exclaimed the Doctor, foreseeing a

happy solution. "Let her stay among her own people for a while; it will

do her good."

"That's what I want her to do. She won't go to the marriage. She says

a wedding is one of the most lamentable spectacles on earth. Nice thing

for a woman to say to her husband!" exclaimed Mr. Pontellier, fuming

anew at the recollection.

"Pontellier," said the Doctor, after a moment's reflection, "let your

wife alone for a while. Don't bother her, and don't let her bother

you. Woman, my dear friend, is a very peculiar and delicate organism--a

sensitive and highly organized woman, such as I know Mrs. Pontellier to

be, is especially peculiar. It would require an inspired psychologist to

deal successfully with them. And when ordinary fellows like you and me

attempt to cope with their idiosyncrasies the result is bungling. Most

women are moody and whimsical. This is some passing whim of your wife,

due to some cause or causes which you and I needn't try to fathom. But

it will pass happily over, especially if you let her alone. Send her

around to see me."

"Oh! I couldn't do that; there'd be no reason for it," objected Mr.

Pontellier.

"Then I'll go around and see her," said the Doctor. "I'll drop in to

dinner some evening en bon ami.