That lady was still clad in white, according to her custom of the
summer. Her eyes beamed an effusive welcome. Would not Mrs. Pontellier
go inside? Would she partake of some refreshment? Why had she not been
there before? How was that dear Mr. Pontellier and how were those sweet
children? Had Mrs. Pontellier ever known such a warm November?
Victor went and reclined on the wicker lounge behind his mother's chair,
where he commanded a view of Edna's face. He had taken her parasol from
her hands while he spoke to her, and he now lifted it and twirled it
above him as he lay on his back. When Madame Lebrun complained that it
was so dull coming back to the city; that she saw so few people now;
that even Victor, when he came up from the island for a day or two, had
so much to occupy him and engage his time; then it was that the youth
went into contortions on the lounge and winked mischievously at Edna.
She somehow felt like a confederate in crime, and tried to look severe
and disapproving.
There had been but two letters from Robert, with little in them, they
told her. Victor said it was really not worthwhile to go inside for
the letters, when his mother entreated him to go in search of them. He
remembered the contents, which in truth he rattled off very glibly when
put to the test.
One letter was written from Vera Cruz and the other from the City
of Mexico. He had met Montel, who was doing everything toward his
advancement. So far, the financial situation was no improvement over the
one he had left in New Orleans, but of course the prospects were vastly
better. He wrote of the City of Mexico, the buildings, the people and
their habits, the conditions of life which he found there. He sent his
love to the family. He enclosed a check to his mother, and hoped she
would affectionately remember him to all his friends. That was about the
substance of the two letters. Edna felt that if there had been a message
for her, she would have received it. The despondent frame of mind in
which she had left home began again to overtake her, and she remembered
that she wished to find Mademoiselle Reisz.
Madame Lebrun knew where Mademoiselle Reisz lived. She gave Edna the
address, regretting that she would not consent to stay and spend the
remainder of the afternoon, and pay a visit to Mademoiselle Reisz some
other day. The afternoon was already well advanced.
Victor escorted her out upon the banquette, lifted her parasol, and held
it over her while he walked to the car with her. He entreated her
to bear in mind that the disclosures of the afternoon were strictly
confidential. She laughed and bantered him a little, remembering too
late that she should have been dignified and reserved.