Une Vie, a Piece of String and Other Stories by Guy De Maupassant

Author:Guy De Maupassant [Maupassant, Guy de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literary, Alternative History, Classics, Short Stories (single author), Fiction
ISBN: 9781153730235
Publisher: General Books LLC
Published: 2010-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

RETRIBUTION

The following days were very sad and dreary, as they always are when

there has been a death in the house. And, in addition, Jeanne was

crushed at the thought of what she had discovered; her last shred of

confidence had been destroyed with the destruction of her faith.

Little father, after a short stay, went away to try and distract his

thoughts from his grief, and the large house, whose former masters

were leaving it from time to time, resumed its usual calm and

monotonous course.

Then Paul fell ill, and Jeanne was almost beside herself, not sleeping

for ten days, and scarcely tasting food. He recovered, but she was

haunted by the idea that he might die. Then what should she do? What

would become of her? And there gradually stole into her heart the hope

that she might have another child. She dreamed of it, became obsessed

with the idea. She longed to realize her old dream of seeing two

little children around her; a boy and a girl.

But since the affair of Rosalie she and Julien had lived apart. A

reconciliation seemed impossible in their present situation. Julien

loved some one else, she knew it; and the very thought of suffering

his approach filled her with repugnance. She had no one left whom she

could consult. She resolved to go and see Abbé Picot and tell him,

under the seal of confession, all that weighed upon her mind in this

matter.

He was reading from his breviary in his little garden planted with

fruit trees when she arrived.

After a few minutes' conversation on indifferent matters, she

faltered, her color rising: "I want to confess, Monsieur l'Abbé."

He looked at her in astonishment, as he pushed his spectacles back on

his forehead; then he began to laugh. "You surely have no great sins

on your conscience." This embarrassed her greatly, and she replied:

"No, but I want to ask your advice on a subject that is so--so--so

painful that I dare not mention it casually."

He at once laid aside his jovial manner and assumed his priestly

attitude. "Well, my child, I will listen to you in the confessional;

come along."

But she held back, undecided, restrained by a kind of scruple at

speaking of these matters, of which she was half ashamed, in the

seclusion of an empty church.

"Or else, no--Monsieur le Curé--I might--I might--if you wish, tell

you now what brings me here. Let us go and sit over there, in your

little arbor."

They walked toward it, and Jeanne tried to think how she could begin.

They sat down in the arbor, and then, as if she were confessing

herself, she said: "Father----" then hesitated, and repeated:

"Father----" and was silent from emotion.

He waited, his hands crossed over his paunch. Seeing her

embarrassment, he sought to encourage her: "Why, my daughter, one

would suppose you were afraid; come, take courage."

She plucked up courage, like a coward who plunges headlong into

danger. "Father, I should like to have another child." He did not

reply, as he did not understand her. Then she explained, timid and

unable to express herself clearly:

"I am all alone in life now; my father and my husband do not get along

together; my mother is dead;

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