CHAPTER FIVE

The three of them enjoyed a nice, friendly atmosphere sitting on the Pontellier's front porch in the afternoon. Madame Ratignolle would frequently interrupt her sewing to tell jokes or talk about her illness, always with the assistance of her beautiful hands. Mrs Pontellier and the young Robert would sit quietly and listen, often looking at one another in such a way that it seemed they had a very close relationship.

For the last thirty days, it was very seldom that Robert was not near Mrs Pontellier. This came as no surprise to anyone. It was his habit to make himself a close friend of a young girl or woman during his summer holidays at Grand Isle. He had been doing it since he was quite young. For some reason, he was always attracted to women who had husbands.

For two summers in a row, he had stayed by the side of Miss Duvigne. However, after the second summer, she became ill and soon died. Robert then acted as though he could never be happy again and looked to Madame Ratignolle to comfort him.

Mrs Pontellier found Robert to be very attractive. To her, he was like a perfect god. She enjoyed looking at him for long periods of time.

"Does anybody understand the evil that hides underneath that woman's beauty?" Robert asked, talking about Madame Ratignolle, "She was totally aware of the fact that I loved her before. And she used it against me. Always ordering me around, getting me to do things for her. 'Come here, Robert. Go there, Robert. Read to me, Robert.'"

"What did you expect? You were always sitting at the bottom of my chair, like a little pet!" Madame Ratignolle answered.

"Yes, just like a stupid little dog."

"Maybe I didn't want to upset my husband," she said, making a joke. Everyone began to laugh at this. Creole men never worried about their wives. They were too used to not feeling anything toward them.

Then Robert began to talk more about the time he was hopelessly in love with Madame Ratignolle. He mentioned how impossible it was for him to sleep at night, how he could not stop thinking about her. While he told this story, Madame Ratignolle would occasionally throw in humorous comments of her own.

"What a beast you are. Get out of here!" she would say.

He had never been this way when he was with Mrs Pontellier. She could not tell when he was joking or when he was not joking. Clearly, he had expressed his love for Madame Ratignolle without expecting her to return the same feelings. Mrs Pontellier was happy that he did not behave in the same way toward her. She would not have liked it and would have felt he was troublesome.

Mrs Pontellier loved to draw. She had never seriously studied drawing, nor was her talent very great. She simply enjoyed doing it. That summer, she had made it a point to bring her pencils and paper with her to Grand Isle.

For a long time she had wanted to draw Madame Ratignolle. At this moment, with the combination of Robert's stories and the afternoon sunlight shining through her hair, Madame Ratignolle seemed even more worth drawing.

Robert came over to where Mrs Pontellier was sitting so that he could watch her draw. She moved her pencil along the paper with little effort, making it clear that she was never properly trained, but had quite a natural talent for the art. He watched her carefully and occasionally made little comments of praise: "Wonderful! You are talented!"

At one moment, while she was drawing, Mrs Pontellier felt Robert put his head on her arm. She was very polite in refusing him. However, he did it again a few moments later. She guessed that he must have known what he was doing, but that did not mean she had to accept it. Once more, she refused him with a movement of her arm. He did not say "excuse me".

The painting, when it was finished, looked nothing at all like Madame Ratignolle. But it was still a good work in many ways.

Mrs Pontellier however did not feel it was worth keeping. Looking it over for a moment, she suddenly moved her pencil across the paper and then tore the paper into four pieces.

The kids came back with the nurse walking a few meters behind them. They ran up the stairs and Mrs Pontellier asked them to take her art supplies into the cottage for her. She hoped that they might stay a while and chat, but it was clear that they were only interested in finding out what was in the box from their father. They let their mother decide what kind of candies they could have and then, once their hands were full, ran into the house to eat them up.

The sun was beginning to go down and the wind carried the smell of the sea to each of their noses. Children were getting together under the oak trees to play games, screaming and yelling with excitement.

Madame Ratignolle collected her sewing tools neatly and safely, and then mentioned that she was feeling a little dizzy. Mrs Pontellier ran over to spray some water on her face, and fanned it. Robert helped as well. Soon, Madame Ratignolle felt better, however Mrs Pontellier could not help wondering if her friend had been faking, because the color of her face had not really changed.

She watched as Madame Ratignolle walked back toward her cottage. She met her three children and their nurse along the way. It was obvious by the way she greeted them that she loved her children very much. She even picked the smallest one up and carried her in her arms. Something she had said her doctor did not allow her to do.

"Is it time for a swim?" Robert asked Mrs Pontellier.

"Well ... " she answered, not having decided yet what she wanted to do. "I'm a little sleepy now. Maybe tomorrow." She then looked out to the sea and felt as though it was calling to her.

"What?" he cried. "How can you say no? The water is great! Come on!"

He got her hat from the wall and placed it on her head. They then walked to the beach together. The sun was beginning to set, and the wind blew around them gently.

(end of section)