clatter in the room;
it was of a ponderous, by-gone make. In the lulls, Robert and his mother
exchanged bits of desultory conversation.

"Where is Mrs. Pontellier?"

"Down at the beach with the children."

"I promised to lend her the Goncourt. Don't forget to take it down when
you go; it's there on the bookshelf over the small table." Clatter,
clatter, clatter, bang! for the next five or eight minutes.

"Where is Victor going with the rockaway?"

"The rockaway? Victor?"

"Yes; down there in front. He seems to be getting ready to drive away
somewhere."

"Call him." Clatter, clatter!

Robert uttered a shrill, piercing whistle which might have been heard
back at the wharf.

"He won't look up."

Madame Lebrun flew to the window. She called "Victor!" She waved a
handkerchief and called again. The young fellow below got into the
vehicle and started the horse off at a gallop.

Madame Lebrun went back to the machine, crimson with annoyance. Victor
was the younger son and brother--a tete montee, with a temper which
invited violence and a will which no ax could break.

"Whenever you say the word I'm ready to thrash any amount of reason into
him that he's able to hold."

"If your father had only lived!" Clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter,
bang! It was a fixed belief with Madame Lebrun that the conduct of the
universe and all things pertaining thereto would have been manifestly of
a more intelligent and higher order had not Monsieur Lebrun been removed
to other spheres during the early years of their married life.

"What do you hear from Montel?" Montel was a middle-aged gentleman whose
vain ambition and desire for the past twenty years had been to fill
the void which Monsieur Lebrun's taking off had left in the Lebrun
household. Clatter, clatter, bang, clatter!

"I have a letter somewhere," looking in the machine drawer and finding
the letter in the bottom of the workbasket. "He says to tell you he will
be in Vera Cruz the beginning of next month,"--clatter, clatter!--"and
if you still have the intention of joining him"--bang! clatter, clatter,
bang!

"Why didn't you tell me so before, mother? You know I wanted--" Clatter,
clatter, clatter!

"Do you see Mrs. Pontellier starting back with the children? She will
be in late to luncheon again. She never starts to get ready for luncheon
till the last minute." Clatter, clatter! "Where are you going?"

"Where did you say the Goncourt was?"

IX

Every