Guy de Maupassant

“ Rosalie sighed as if she were suffering, and from time to time made an
effort to disengage herself and run away.
Jeanne resumed: "I understand perfectly that you are ashamed; but you
see that I am not angry, that I speak kindly to you. If I ask you the
name of the man it is for your own good, for I feel from your grief
that he has deserted you, and because I wish to prevent that. Julien
will go and look for him, you see, and we will oblige him to marry
you; and as we will employ you both, we will oblige him also to make
you happy." ”

“ The spring was singularly early and mild. Everything seemed to
be coming to life beneath the quickening rays of the sun. Jeanne was
vaguely troubled at this awakening of nature. Memories came to her of
the early days of her love. Not that her love for Julien was renewed;
that was over, over forever. But all her being, caressed by the
breeze, filled with the fragrance of spring, was disturbed as though
in response to some invisible and tender appeal. She loved to be
alone, to give herself up in the sunlight to all kinds of vague and
calm enjoyment which did not necessitate thinking. ”

“ A delightful life commenced for Jeanne, a life in the open air. She
wandered along the roads, or into the little winding valleys, their
sides covered with a fleece of gorse blossoms, the strong sweet odor
of which intoxicated her like the bouquet of wine, while the distant
sound of the waves rolling on the beach seemed like a billow rocking
her spirit.
A love of solitude came upon her in the sweet freshness of this
landscape and in the calm of the rounded horizon, and she would remain
sitting so long on the hill tops that the wild rabbits would bound by
her feet. ”

“ She felt nothing, her body was so
numbed from the emotion of her mind, and she ran along as white as the
snow.
She followed the large avenue, crossed the wood, crossed the ditch,
and started off across the plain.
There was no moon, the stars were shining like sparks of fire in the
black sky; but the plain was light with a dull whiteness, and lay in
infinite silence.
Jeanne walked quickly, hardly breathing, not knowing, not thinking of
anything. She suddenly stopped on the edge of the cliff. She stopped
short, instinctively, and crouched down, bereft of thought and of will
power. ”

“ Rosalie, fearful of awakening certain painful souvenirs, stammered
out: "Why--yes--yes--madame. I have nothing much to complain of. I
have been happier than you have--that is sure. There was only one
thing that always weighed on my heart, and that was that I did not
stay here--" And she stopped suddenly, sorry she had referred to that
unintentionally. But Jeanne replied gently: "How could you help it, my
girl? One cannot always do as they wish. You are a widow now, also,
are you not?" Then her voice trembled with emotion as she said: "Have
you other--other children?" ”

“ One morning, Jeanne made her sit down and, taking her hands and
looking steadfastly at her, she said:
"See here, my girl, tell me everything."
Rosalie began to tremble, and faltered:
"What, madame?"
"Whose is it, this child?"
The little maid was overcome with confusion, and she sought wildly to
withdraw her hands so as to hide her face. But Jeanne kissed her in
spite of herself, and consoled her, saying: "It is a misfortune, but
cannot be helped, my girl. You were weak, but that happens to many
others. If the father marries you, no one will think of it again." ”

“ Jeanne, choking with a sudden emotion, and on the verge of fainting,
began to tremble so violently that her teeth chattered. The dream that
had haunted her for some time was suddenly beginning, as if in a kind
of hallucination, to take the appearance of reality. They had spoken
of a wedding, a priest was present, blessing them; men in surplices
were singing psalms; was it not she whom they were giving in marriage?
Did her fingers send out an electric shock, did the emotion of her
heart follow the course of her veins until it reached the heart of her
companion? ”

“ A big woman, big as a house, had taken Rosalie's place and supported
the baroness in her monotonous walks along her avenue. The baron gave
his arm to Jeanne, who was now always ailing, while Aunt Lison,
uneasy, and busied about the approaching event, held her other hand,
bewildered at this mystery which she would never know.
They all walked along like this almost in silence for hours at a time,
while Julien was riding about the country on horseback, having
suddenly acquired this taste. Nothing ever came to disturb their
dreary life. ”

“ They crossed the wood where she had strolled
on her wedding-day, all wrapped up in the one whose lifelong companion
she had become; the wood where she had received her first kiss,
trembled at the first breath of love, had a presentiment of that
sensual love of which she did not become aware until she was in the
wild vale of Ota beside the spring where they mingled their kisses as
they drank of its waters. The trees were now leafless, the climbing
vines dead.
They entered the little village. The empty, silent streets smelled of
the sea, of wrack, of fish. ”

“ But as her heart began to beat tumultuously till she seemed to be
suffocating, she went downstairs again with trembling limbs in order
to wake Julien. She rushed into his room filled with the idea that she
was going to die, and longing to see him before she lost
consciousness.
By the light of the dying embers she perceived Rosalie's head leaning
on her husband's shoulder.
At the cry she gave they both started to their feet; she stood
motionless for a second, horrified at this discovery, and then fled to
her room; and when Julien, at his wit's end, called "Jeanne!" ”

“ One afternoon as the baroness and Jeanne were resting on the beach at
the end of the walk, a stout priest who was moving in their direction
greeted them with a bow, while still at a distance. He bowed when
within three feet and, assuming a smiling air, cried: "Well, Madame la
Baronne, how are you?" It was the village priest. The baroness seldom
went to church, though she liked priests, from a sort of religious
instinct peculiar to women. She had, in fact, entirely forgotten the
Abbé Picot, her priest, and blushed as she saw him. ”

“ Julien had been
gone since daybreak, she knew not whither. She had the little white
horse, which she sometimes rode, saddled, and she set out. It was one
of those days when nothing seemed stirring, not a blade of grass, not
a leaf. All seemed wrapped in a golden mist beneath the blazing sun.
Jeanne walked her horse, soothed and happy.
She descended into the valley which leads to the sea, between the
great arches in the cliff that are called the "Gates" of Étretat, and
slowly reached the wood. ”

“ Jeanne walked slowly up and down petite mère's avenue, alongside the
Couillards' farm. Something weighed on her spirit like a presentiment
of the long boredom of the monotonous life about to begin.
She seated herself on the bank where Julien had first told her of his
love and remained there, dreaming, scarcely thinking, depressed to the
very soul, longing to lie down, to sleep, in order to escape the
dreariness of the day. ”

“ And tears came to her eyes. One
sometimes mourns lost illusions as deeply as one does the death of a
friend.
She resolved, however, to act as though she knew nothing, to close the
doors of her heart to all ordinary affection and to love no one but
Paul and her parents and to endure other people with an undisturbed
countenance.
As soon as she got home she ran to her son, carried him up to her room
and kissed him passionately for an hour.
Julien came home to dinner, smiling and attentive, and appeared
interested as he asked: "Are not father and little mother coming this
year?" ”

“ Before retiring, Jeanne cast a last glance round her room
and then regretfully extinguished the candle. Through her window she
could see the bright moonlight bathing the trees and the wonderful
landscape. Presently she arose, opened a window and looked out. The
night was so clear that one could see as plainly as by daylight. She
looked across the park with its two long avenues of very tall poplars
that gave its name to the château and separated it from the two farms
that belonged to it, one occupied by the Couillard family, the other
by the Martins. ”

“ Jeanne, bewildered, looked at him without understanding. She faltered:
"What in the world is the matter?"
Julien then turned toward her, to try and get her on his side as a
partner who has been cheated out of an unexpected fortune. He
hurriedly told her about the conspiracy to marry off Rosalie and about
the gift of the Barville property, which was worth at least twenty
thousand francs. He said: "Your parents are crazy, my dear, crazy
enough to be shut up! Twenty thousand francs! twenty thousand francs!
Why, they have lost their heads! Twenty thousand francs for a
bastard!" ”