Mariequita thought that perhaps Philomel's mother might come for a few
days, and money enough.
Beholding Mrs. Pontellier make her appearance, the girl had at once
suspected a lovers' rendezvous. But Victor's astonishment was so
genuine, and Mrs. Pontellier's indifference so apparent, that the
disturbing notion did not lodge long in her brain. She contemplated with
the greatest interest this woman who gave the most sumptuous dinners in
America, and who had all the men in New Orleans at her feet.
"What time will you have dinner?" asked Edna. "I'm very hungry; but
don't get anything extra."
"I'll have it ready in little or no time," he said, bustling and packing
away his tools. "You may go to my room to brush up and rest yourself.
Mariequita will show you."
"Thank you," said Edna. "But, do you know, I have a notion to go down to
the beach and take a good wash and even a little swim, before dinner?"
"The water is too cold!" they both exclaimed. "Don't think of it."
"Well, I might go down and try--dip my toes in. Why, it seems to me the
sun is hot enough to have warmed the very depths of the ocean. Could you
get me a couple of towels? I'd better go right away, so as to be back in
time. It would be a little too chilly if I waited till this afternoon."
Mariequita ran over to Victor's room, and returned with some towels,
which she gave to Edna.
"I hope you have fish for dinner," said Edna, as she started to walk
away; "but don't do anything extra if you haven't."
"Run and find Philomel's mother," Victor instructed the girl. "I'll
go to the kitchen and see what I can do. By Gimminy! Women have no
consideration! She might have sent me word."
Edna walked on down to the beach rather mechanically, not noticing
anything special except that the sun was hot. She was not dwelling upon
any particular train of thought. She had done all the thinking which was
necessary after Robert went away, when she lay awake upon the sofa till
morning.
She had said over and over to herself: "To-day it is Arobin; to-morrow
it will be someone else. It makes no difference to me, it doesn't
matter about Leonce Pontellier--but Raoul and Etienne!" She understood
now clearly what she had meant long ago when she said to Adele
Ratignolle that she would give up the unessential, but she would never
sacrifice herself for her children.
Despondency had come upon her there in the wakeful night, and had never
lifted. There was no one thing in the world that she desired. There
was no human being whom she wanted near her except Robert; and she even
realized that the day would come when he, too, and the thought of
him would melt out of her existence, leaving her alone. The children
appeared before her like antagonists who had overcome her; who had
overpowered and sought to drag her into the soul's slavery for the rest
of her days. But she knew a way to elude them. She was not thinking of
these things when she walked down to the beach.