"Mind the step!" cried Edna.
"Don't neglect me," entreated Madame Ratignolle; "and don't mind what I
said about Arobin, or having someone to stay with you.
"Of course not," Edna laughed. "You may say anything you like to me."
They kissed each other good-by. Madame Ratignolle had not far to go, and
Edna stood on the porch a while watching her walk down the street.
Then in the afternoon Mrs. Merriman and Mrs. Highcamp had made their
"party call." Edna felt that they might have dispensed with the
formality. They had also come to invite her to play vingt-et-un one
evening at Mrs. Merriman's. She was asked to go early, to dinner, and
Mr. Merriman or Mr. Arobin would take her home. Edna accepted in a
half-hearted way. She sometimes felt very tired of Mrs. Highcamp and
Mrs. Merriman.
Late in the afternoon she sought refuge with Mademoiselle Reisz, and
stayed there alone, waiting for her, feeling a kind of repose invade her
with the very atmosphere of the shabby, unpretentious little room.
Edna sat at the window, which looked out over the house-tops and across
the river. The window frame was filled with pots of flowers, and she sat
and picked the dry leaves from a rose geranium. The day was warm, and
the breeze which blew from the river was very pleasant. She removed her
hat and laid it on the piano. She went on picking the leaves and
digging around the plants with her hat pin. Once she thought she heard
Mademoiselle Reisz approaching. But it was a young black girl, who
came in, bringing a small bundle of laundry, which she deposited in the
adjoining room, and went away.
Edna seated herself at the piano, and softly picked out with one hand
the bars of a piece of music which lay open before her. A half-hour went
by. There was the occasional sound of people going and coming in the
lower hall. She was growing interested in her occupation of picking out
the aria, when there was a second rap at the door. She vaguely wondered
what these people did when they found Mademoiselle's door locked.
"Come in," she called, turning her face toward the door. And this time
it was Robert Lebrun who presented himself. She attempted to rise; she
could not have done so without betraying the agitation which mastered
her at sight of him, so she fell back upon the stool, only exclaiming,
"Why, Robert!"
He came and clasped her hand, seemingly without knowing what he was
saying or doing.
"Mrs. Pontellier! How do you happen--oh! how well you look! Is
Mademoiselle Reisz not here? I never expected to see you."