so that he might not
be left out and seem wholly devoid of the modern spirit. But he failed
to impose upon the Colonel, and was even far from impressing him with
this trumped-up knowledge of bygone days. Edna had staked her father
on his last venture, with the most gratifying results to both of them.
Besides, they had met some very charming people, according to the
Colonel's impressions. Mrs. Mortimer Merriman and Mrs. James Highcamp,
who were there with Alcee Arobin, had joined them and had enlivened the
hours in a fashion that warmed him to think of.

Mr. Pontellier himself had no particular leaning toward horseracing, and
was even rather inclined to discourage it as a pastime, especially
when he considered the fate of that blue-grass farm in Kentucky. He
endeavored, in a general way, to express a particular disapproval, and
only succeeded in arousing the ire and opposition of his father-in-law.
A pretty dispute followed, in which Edna warmly espoused her father's
cause and the Doctor remained neutral.

He observed his hostess attentively from under his shaggy brows, and
noted a subtle change which had transformed her from the listless woman
he had known into a being who, for the moment, seemed palpitant with
the forces of life. Her speech was warm and energetic. There was no
repression in her glance or gesture. She reminded him of some beautiful,
sleek animal waking up in the sun.

The dinner was excellent. The claret was warm and the champagne was
cold, and under their beneficent influence the threatened unpleasantness
melted and vanished with the fumes of the wine.

Mr. Pontellier warmed up and grew reminiscent. He told some amusing
plantation experiences, recollections of old Iberville and his youth,
when he hunted 'possum in company with some friendly darky; thrashed
the pecan trees, shot the grosbec, and roamed the woods and fields in
mischievous idleness.

The Colonel, with little sense of humor and of the fitness of things,
related a somber episode of those dark and bitter days, in which he had
acted a conspicuous part and always formed a central figure. Nor was
the Doctor happier in his selection, when he told the old, ever new
and curious story of the waning of a woman's love, seeking strange, new
channels, only to return to its legitimate source after days of fierce
unrest. It was one of the many little human documents which had been
unfolded to him during his long career as a physician. The story did