before entering。 He liked going into the courtyard； and noticing
the gate turn against his shoulder； the cock crow on the wall；
the lads run to meet him。 He liked the granary and the stables；
he liked old Rouault； who pressed his hand and called him his
saviour； he like the small wooden shoes of Mademoiselle Emma on
the scoured flags of the kitchenher high heels made her a
little taller； and when she walked in front of him； the wooden
soles springing up quickly struck with a sharp sound against the
leather of her boots。
She always accompanied him to the first step of the stairs。 When
his horse had not yet been brought round she stayed there。 They
had said 〃Good…bye〃； there was no more talking。 The open air
wrapped her round； playing with the soft down on the back of her
neck； or blew to and fro on her hips the apron…strings； that
fluttered like streamers。 Once； during a thaw the bark of the
trees in the yard was oozing； the snow on the roofs of the
outbuildings was melting； she stood on the threshold； and went to
fetch her sunshade and opened it。 The sunshade of silk of the
colour of pigeons' breasts； through which the sun shone； lighted
up with shifting hues the white skin of her face。 She smiled
under the tender warmth； and drops of water could be heard
falling one by one on the stretched silk。
During the first period of Charles's visits to the Bertaux；
Madame Bovary junior never failed to inquire after the invalid；
and she had even chosen in the book that she kept on a system of
double entry a clean blank page for Monsieur Rouault。 But when
she heard he had a daughter； she began to make inquiries； and she
learnt the Mademoiselle Rouault； brought up at the Ursuline
Convent； had received what is called 〃a good education〃； and so
knew dancing； geography； drawing； how to embroider and play the
piano。 That was the last straw。
〃So it is for this；〃 she said to herself； 〃that his face beams
when he goes to see her； and that he puts on his new waistcoat at
the risk of spoiling it with the rain。 Ah！ that woman！ That
woman！〃
And she detested her instinctively。 At first she solaced herself
by allusions that Charles did not understand； then by casual
observations that he let pass for fear of a storm； finally by
open apostrophes to which he knew not what to answer。 〃Why did he
go back to the Bertaux now that Monsieur Rouault was cured and
that these folks hadn't paid yet？ Ah！ it was because a young lady
was there； some one who know how to talk； to embroider； to be
witty。 That was what he cared about； he wanted town misses。〃 And
she went on
〃The daughter of old Rouault a town miss！ Get out！ Their
grandfather was a shepherd； and they have a cousin who was almost
had up at the assizes for a nasty blow in a quarrel。 It is not
worth while making such a fuss； or showing herself at church on
Sundays in a silk gown like a countess。 Besides； the poor old
chap； if it hadn't been for the colza last year； would have had
much ado to pay up his arrears。〃
For very weariness Charles left off going to the Bertaux。 Heloise
made him swear； his hand on the prayer…book； that he would go
there no more after much sobbing and many kisses； in a great
outburst of love。 He obeyed then； but the strength of his desire
protested against the servility of his conduct； and he thought；
with a kind of naive hypocrisy； that his interdict to see her
gave him a sort of right to love her。 And then the widow was
thin； she had long teeth； wore in all weathers a little black
shawl； the edge of which hung down between her shoulder…blades；
her bony figure was sheathed in her clothes as if they were a
scabbard； they were too short； and displayed her ankles with the
laces of her large boots crossed over grey stockings。
Charles's mother came to see them from time to time； but after a
few days the daughter…in…law seemed to put her own edge on her；
and then； like two knives； they scarified him with their
reflections and observations。 It was wrong of him to eat so much。
Why did he always offer a glass of something to everyone who
came？ What obstinacy not to wear flannels！ In the spring it came
about that a notary at Ingouville； the holder of the widow
Dubuc's property； one fine day went off； taking with him all the
money in his office。 Heloise； it is true； still possessed；
besides a share in a boat valued at six thousand francs； her
house in the Rue St。 Francois； and yet； with all this fortune
that had been so trumpeted abroad； nothing； excepting perhaps a
little furniture and a few clothes； had appeared in the
household。 The matter had to be gone into。 The house at Dieppe
was found to be eaten up with mortgages to its foundations； what
she had placed with the notary God only knew； and her share in
the boat did not exceed one thousand crowns。 She had lied； the
good lady！ In his exasperation； Monsieur Bovary the elder；
smashing a chair on the flags； accused his wife of having caused
misfortune to the son by harnessing him to such a harridan； whose
harness wasn't worth her hide。 They came to Tostes。 Explanations
followed。 There were scenes。 Heloise in tears； throwing her arms
about her husband； implored him to defend her from his parents。
Charles tried to speak up for her。 They grew angry and left the
house。
But 〃the blow had struck home。〃 A week after； as she was hanging
up some washing in her yard； she was seized with a spitting of
blood； and the next day； while Charles had his back turned to her
drawing the window…curtain； she said； 〃O God！〃 gave a sigh and
fainted。 She was dead！ What a surprise！ When all was over at the
cemetery Charles went home。 He found no one downstairs； he went
up to the first floor to their room； say her dress still hanging
at the foot of the alcove； then； leaning against the
writing…table； he stayed until the evening； buried in a sorrowful
reverie。 She had loved him after all！
Chapter Three
One morning old Rouault brought Charles the money for setting his
legseventy…five francs in forty…sou pieces； and a turkey。 He
had heard of his loss； and consoled him as well as he could。
〃I know what it is；〃 said he； clapping him on the shoulder； 〃I've
been through it。 When I lost my dear departed； I went into the
fields to be quite alone。 I fell at the foot of a tree； I cried；
I called on God； I talked nonsense to Him。 I wanted to be like
the moles that I saw on the branches； their insides swarming with
worms； dead； and an end of it。 And when I thought that there were
others at that very moment with their nice little wives holding
them in their embrace； I struck great blows on the earth with my
stick。 I was pretty well mad with not eating； the very idea of
going to a cafe disgusted meyou wouldn't believe it。 Well；
quite softly； one day following another； a spring on a winter；
and an autumn after a summer； this wore away； piece by piece；
crumb by crumb； it passed away； it is gone； I should say it has
sunk； for something always remains at the bottom as one would
saya weight here； at one's heart。 But since it is the lot of
all of us； one must not give way altogether； and； because others
have died； want to die too。 You must pull yourself together；
Monsieur Bovary。 It will pass away。 Come to see us； my daughter
thinks of you now and again； d'ye know； and she says you are
forgetting her。 Spring will soon be here。 We'll have some
rabbit…shooting in the warrens to amuse you a bit。〃
Charles followed his advice。 He went back to the Bertaux。 He
found all as he had left it； that is to say； as it was five
months ago。 The pear trees were already in blossom； and Farmer
Rouault； on his legs again； came and went； making the farm more
full of life。
Thinking it his duty to heap the greatest attention upon the
doctor because of his sad position； he begged him not to take his
hat off； spoke to him in an undertone as if he had been ill； and
even pretended to be angry because nothing rather lighter had
been prepared for him than for the others； such as a little
clotted cream or stewed pears。 He told stories。 Charles found
himself laughing； but the remembrance of his wife suddenly coming
back to him depressed him。 Coffee was brought in； he thought no
more about her。
He thought less of her as he grew accustomed to living alone。 The
new delight of independence soon made his loneliness bearable。 He
could now change his meal…times； go in or out without
explanation； and when he was very tired stretch himself at full
length on his bed。 So he nursed and coddled himself and accepted
the consolations that were offered him。 On the other hand； the
death of his wife had not served him ill in his business； since
for a month people had been saying； 〃The poor young man！ what a
loss！〃 His name had been talked about； his practice had
increased； and moreover； he could go to the Bertaux just as he
liked。 He had an aimless hope； and was vaguely happy； he thought
himself better looking as he brushed his whiskers before the
looking…glass。
One day he got there about three o'clock。 Everybody was in the
fields。 He went into the kitchen； but did not at once catch sight
of Emma； the outside shutters were closed。 Through the chinks of
the wood the sun sent across the flooring long fine rays that
were broken at the corners of the furniture and trembled along
the ceiling。 Some flies on the table were crawling up the glasses
that had been used； and buzzing as they drowned themselves in the
dregs of the cider。 The daylight that came in by the chimney made
velvet of the soot at the back of the fireplace； and touched with
blue the cold cinders。 Between the window and the hearth Emma was
sewing； she wore no fichu； he could see small drops of
perspiration on her bare shoulders。
After the fashion of country folks she asked him to have
something to drink。 He said no； she insisted； and at last
laughingly offered to have a glass of liqueur with him。 So she
went to fetch a bottle of curacao from the cupboard； reached down
two small glasses； filled one to the brim； poured scarcely
anything into the other； and； after having clinked glasses；
carried hers to her mouth。 As it was almost empty she bent back
to drink； her head thrown back； her lips pouti