A Woman's Life Page #24

"A Woman's Life" (French: "Une vie") by Guy de Maupassant tells the poignant story of Jeanne, a young noblewoman in the 19th century, as she navigates the complexities of love, marriage, and societal expectations. Spanning her life from a romanticized youth to a disillusioned adulthood, the novel explores themes of gender, class, and the harsh realities faced by women. Through Jeanne's experiences, Maupassant critiques the constraints imposed by society and highlights the emotional turmoil that often accompanies personal choices. The narrative is both a reflection on the individual's struggle for autonomy and a subtle commentary on the limitations placed on women of the era.

								

of black crows flew from the trees in terror. Jeanne, tired of staying
indoors, would go out on the steps of the house, where, in the stillness
of this snow-covered world, she could hear the bustle of the farms, or
the far-away murmur of the waves and the soft continual rustle of the
falling snow.

On one of these cold, white mornings she was sitting by her bedroom
fire, while Rosalie, who looked worse and worse every day, was slowly
making the bed. All at once Jeanne heard a sigh of pain behind her.
Without turning her head, she asked:

"What is the matter with you, Rosalie?"

The maid answered as she always did:

"Nothing, madame," but her voice seemed to die away as she spoke.

Jeanne had left off thinking about her, when she suddenly noticed that
she could not hear the girl moving. She called: "Rosalie."

There was no answer. Then she thought that the maid must have gone
quietly out of the room without her hearing her, and she cried in a
louder tone: "Rosalie!" Again she received no answer, and she was just
stretching out her hand to ring the bell, when she heard a low moan
close beside her. She started up in terror.

Rosalie was sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, her legs
stretched stiffly out, her face livid, and her eyes staring straight
before her. Jeanne rushed to her side.

"Oh, Rosalie! What is the matter? what is it?" she asked in affright.

The maid did not answer a word, but fixed her wild eyes on her mistress
and gasped for breath, as if tortured by some excruciating pain. Then,
stiffening every muscle in her body, and stifling a cry of anguish
between her clenched teeth, she slipped down on her back, and all at
once, something stirred underneath her dress, which clung tightly round
her legs. Jeanne heard a strange, gushing noise, something like the
death-rattle of someone who is suffocating, and then came a long low
wail of pain; it was the first cry of suffering of a child entering the
world.

The sound came as a revelation to her, and, suddenly losing her head,
she rushed to the top of the stairs, crying:

"Julien! Julien!"

"What do you want?" he answered, from below.

She gasped out, "It's Rosalie who--who--" but before she could say any
more Julien was rushing up the stairs two at a time; he dashed into the
bedroom, raised the girl's clothes, and there lay a creased, shriveled,
hideous, little atom of humanity, feebly whining and trying to move its
limbs. He got up with an evil look on his face, and pushed his
distracted wife out of the room, saying:

"This is no place for you. Go away and send me Ludivine and old Simon."

Jeanne went down to the kitchen trembling all over, to deliver her
husband's message, and then afraid to go upstairs again, she went into
the drawing-room, where a fire was never lighted, now her parents were
away. Soon she saw Simon run out of the house, and come back five
minutes after with Widow Dentu, the village midwife. Next she heard a
noise on the stairs which sounded as if they were carrying a body, then
Julien came to tell her that she could go back to her room. She went
upstairs and sat down again before her bedroom fire, trembling as if she
had just witnessed some terrible accident.

"How is she?" she asked.

Julien, apparently in a great rage, was walking about the room in a
preoccupied, nervous way. He did not answer his wife for some moments,
but at last he asked, stopping in his walk:

"Well, what do you mean to do with this girl?"

Jeanne looked at her husband as if she did not understand his question.

"What do you mean?" she said. "I don't know; how should I?"

"Well, anyhow, we can't keep that child in the house," he cried,
angrily.

Jeanne looked very perplexed, and sat in silence for some time. At last
she said:

"But, my dear, we could put it out to nurse somewhere?"

He hardly let her finish her sentence.

"And who'll pay for it? Will you?"

"But surely the father will take care of it," she said, after another
long silence. "And if he marries Rosalie, everything will be all right."

"The father!" answered Julien, roughly; "the father! Do you know who is
the father? Of course you don't. Very well, then!"

Jeanne began to get troubled: "But he certainly will not forsake the
girl; it would be such a cowardly thing to do. We will ask her his name,
and go and see him and force him to give some account of himself."

Julien had become calmer, and was again walking about the room.

"My dear girl," he replied, "I don't believe she will tell you the man's
name, or me either. Besides, suppose he wouldn't marry her? You must see
that we can't keep a girl and her illegitimate child in our house."

But Jeanne would only repeat, doggedly:

"Then the man must be a villain; but we will find out who he is, and
then he will have us to deal with instead of that poor girl."

Julien got very red.

"But until we know who he is?" he asked.

She did not know what to propose, so she asked Julien what he thought
was the best thing to do. He gave his opinion very promptly.

"Oh, I should give her some money, and let her and her brat go to the
devil."

That made Jeanne very indignant.

"That shall never be done," she declared; "Rosalie is my foster-sister,
and we have grown up together. She has erred, it is true, but I will
never turn her out-of-doors for that, and, if there is no other way out
of the difficulty, I will bring up the child myself."

"And we should have a nice reputation, shouldn't we, with our name and
connections?" burst out Julien. "People would say that we encouraged
vice, and sheltered prostitutes, and respectable people would never come
near us. Why, what can you be thinking of? You must be mad!"

"I will never have Rosalie turned out," she repeated, quietly. "If you
will not keep her here, my mother will take her back again. But we are
sure to find out the name of the father."

At that, he went out of the room, too angry to talk to her any longer,
and as he banged the door after him he cried:

"Women are fools with their absurd notions!"

In the afternoon Jeanne went up to see the invalid. She was lying in
bed, wide awake, and the Widow Dentu was rocking the child in her arms.
As soon as she saw her mistress Rosalie began to sob violently, and when
Jeanne wanted to kiss her, she turned away and hid her face under the
bed-clothes. The nurse interfered and drew down the sheet, and then
Rosalie made no further resistance, though the tears still ran down her
cheeks.

The room was very cold, for there was only a small fire in the grate,
and the child was crying. Jeanne did not dare make any reference to the
little one, for fear of causing another burst of tears, but she held
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