Pulp Fiction, 1865 · page 98 of 399
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Dividea. 8s After a time she gave up walking and tried to amuse herself indoors with her books, fancy work, or music. But they soon palled. Want of wholesome exercise gave her the migraine, which, in turn, made her cross and irritable. This was also partly owing to want of work. Her profession had hitherto kept her busy day and night ; and, to a healthy nature accustomed to the happy distractions of industry, it is always a trial to be suddenly thrown into indolence, with no definite object to live and work for. Denise had not yet dis- covered that there was plenty of scope for her energies in her new home if she chose to look for it. She had married to amuse herself. Indeed, was not that the aim and object of matrimony? ‘To wear pretty dresses ; to do what one liked all day ; to be made much of in Society? So, at least, her young married friends had taught her to believe. But then, possibly, their husbands also were fond of liberty, and held different views on the subject from the old-fashioned ones of Raoul. He was unfashionable enough to be very much in love with his wife. But he did not understand women; their inconsistencies bewildered him. More especially was it a mystery to him why any girl, unless forced to do so by her parents, should marry a man with whom she was not in love; and, as a natural consequence of this mistake, he expected Denise to return at least part of the affection he gave to her. The first time he realised her indifference to him and saw that his love and proffered sympathy only bothered her, he shut up like a knife, hurt and wounded and profoundly miserable, because se was miserable. Once she begged him, if he would not make Paris his home whether he would consent to spend a month or two there every winter, that she might see her friends and have a little gaiety. He did not answer the request at once; but was very absent-minded and thoughtful for several days. Then he had to confess that, though he had been calculating how to defray the extra expense, he did not think the plan practicable— at all events for the present. “We cannot afford it just now,” he said. ‘I wish we could. You thought I was rich, Denise. I did not know that, or I would have warned you that it was a mistake on your part. There are debts to pay ; you know my father ran through a great part of his fortune. It seems to me a point of honour to pay them off. It means so much, going to Paris. I regret it for your sake, ma bien aimée, but it cannot be this year. Perhaps a little later on. You believe that I am sorry, Denise? ” “Then am I to stay here for ever and ever, and never see my friends and Paris again? Stay here from year’s end to year’s end?” she cried, tears of disappointment rising to her eyes. “Ts it then so very dreadful for you ?” ECoOnniclooOolKSs (SO) mn