“It seems to me it might have been as much her fault as his,” I said.
My aunt gave me a sad look. “If you had children of your own, you might understand,” she said.
I’ve heard this before and it never fails to irritate me, but all I said was, “I don’t think so.”
“It has left you with a cold heart,” my aunt insisted.
This stung me. “If I’d had a husband who didn’t outrage all decency every day of his life,” I said, “I might feel sympathy for a wife who cannot content herself with an upright man.”
My aunt fairly gasped at this retort, allowing the piece of cake she was about to lift to her lips to slip back onto the plate. She cast a nervous sidelong glance, as if someone had just stood up behind her chair. “We mustn’t speak ill of the dead,” she said.
THE NEXT MORNING Joel sent flowers with a card requesting a visit in the afternoon. My conversation with my aunt had left me in a prickly state. I had slept poorly, eaten almost nothing, and my head ached. It was so warm I had Rose open the windows, close the shutters, and sweep out the grate. The room had a bare, unlived-in air that suited me. I knew Joel would tell me of his engagement, relying on my courtesy to spare him any sensation of discomfort. I was not in the mood to be gracious. My patience is at an end, I thought, as Delphine slouched through the room to answer the bell. “Stand up straight!” I snapped. She jumped as if she had been struck.
Joel came in smiling, dropping his hat familiarly on the desk and turning to me with his hands open, as if presenting an excellent gift. His coat was a new one, fashionably cut, and he gave off a pleasant scent of cologne, pomade, and fresh linen. My appearance was evidently sobering. His smile vanished, replaced by an expression of exaggerated concern. “But you are still unwell,” he said. “Your aunt told me your indisposition was only passing.”
“I am well enough,” I said. “This is just how I look now.”
“No,” he protested, sitting beside me on the settee. “You are too pale.”
“I don’t sleep,” I said.
“Have you consulted a physician?”
“I have sleeping drops,” I said. “But I don’t like to take them because they make me feel dead. Unfortunately, not sleeping has much the same effect.”
Joel looked about the room, noting, I thought, the absence of refreshments on offer. It was too gloomy for him; I was not a gay hostess. What was he to do? “Perhaps you would like to stroll to the Café des Artistes? A glass of champagne might revive you.”
I smiled. “I don’t think so.”
“Very well,” he said. He sat back farther on the seat and folded his hands in his lap like a boy bracing for unpleasant medicine. He wanted to get it over with, go back outside and play. I decided to release him from his torment.
“Aunt Lelia has told me of your engagement to Miss McKenzie,” I said. “Please accept my congratulations.”
“I thought she might have.” He sighed. “I fear your aunt doesn’t approve of my choice.”
“She’ll relent,” I assured him. “Just move to the Carré, and raise your children in the Church.”
He chuckled, turning to me. “Alice has already begun her instruction with Père François.”
Alice, I thought. Alice Borden. It sounded like a steam-boat. “So you are determined to stay in town,” I said.
“Oh, yes.” He gave me a meaningful look. “There is much to keep me here.”
What, I asked myself, was the meaning of the meaningful look? Neither of us was under the illusion that my opinions had the slightest influence upon him. It would certainly never occur to Joel to include me in the circle who knew about his adventures at the Blue Ribbon Balls, or the likelihood that he would acquire a little house on the Ramparts where he could retire of an evening to be pampered by some poor, trussed-up yellow girl who was ignorant enough to think she was free. No, the meaningful look was simply for show, a courtesy to a poor, crippled widow who must find some way to live on such looks. I am sick to death of this charade, I thought, but I said, “I’m glad. I should miss your visits.”
“Then you do forgive me,” he said earnestly.
“There is nothing to forgive,” I said.
This reply suited him so well he rushed out ahead of it like a horse scenting the barn. “I plan to buy a large house, the biggest I can find, and give a series of dinners and dances. As I’ve explained to Alice, I owe everyone in town. We will have to bring in the wine on flatboats.”
“That will be very gay,” I said.