The Awakening

all, encircling the whole room. Some one had gathered orange and lemon branches, and with these fashioned graceful festoons between. The dark green of the branches stood out and

and they were being suitably entertained by their families, with the material help of Madame Lebrun. The dining tables had all been removed to one end of the hall, and the chairs ranged about in rows and in clusters. Each li

ing on their stomachs on the floor looking at the colored sheets of the comic papers which Mr. Pontellier

ished, or rather, offered. But there was nothing systematic about th

lad in the Virgin’s colors, blue and white, having been dedicated to the Blessed Virgin at their baptism. They played a duet f

. Old Monsieur Farival, grandfather of the twins, grew indignant over the interruption, and insisted upon having the bird removed and consigned to regions of darkness. Victor Lebrun objected; and his decrees were as immutab

ns, which every one present had heard many time

ad no apprehension. The child was mistress of the situation. She had been properly dressed for the occasion in black tulle and black silk tights. Her little neck and arms were bare, and her hair, artificially

e played very well, keeping excellent waltz time and infusing an expression into the strains which was indeed inspiring. She was keeping up her m

ng the brief period when one or the other should be whirling around the room in

nd protests as they were dragged away. They had been permitted to sit up til

k women, under the supervision of Victor. It was pronounced a great success-excellent if it had only contained a little less vanilla or a little more sugar, if it had been frozen a degr

when he danced, she went out on the gallery and seated herself on the low window-sill, where she commanded a view of all that went on in the hall and could look out to

out on the porch where she was. Of course Edna would like to hear Mad

agging a chair in and out of her room, and at intervals objecting to the crying of a baby, which a nurse in the adjoining cottage was endeavoring to put to sleep. She was a disagreeable little woman, no longe

n. She was a homely woman, with a small weazened face and body and eyes that glowed. She had absolutely no taste

he window. A general air of surprise and genuine satisfaction fell upon every one as they saw the pianist enter. There was a settling down, and a prevailing air of expectancy everywhere. Edna wa

cticed. One piece which that lady played Edna had entitled “Solitude.” It was a short, plaintive, minor strain. The name of the piece was something else, but she called it “Solitude.” When she heard it there came be

dancing steps as she came down a long avenue between tall hedges. Again, another reminded her

r’s spinal column. It was not the first time she had heard an artist at the piano. Perhaps it was the first

aw no pictures of solitude, of hope, of longing, or of despair. But the very passions themselves were aroused within her soul,

bow, she went away, stopping for neither, thanks nor applause. A

; she pressed the hand of the pianist convulsively. Mademoiselle Reisz perceived h

se others? Bah!” and she went shuffling and

thusiasm. “What passion!” “What an artist!” “I have always said no one could pla

to disband. But some one, perhaps it was Robert, thought