She had a rich friend, a schoolmate at the convent, whom she did not like to visit, she suffered so much when she returned. And she wept for whole days from chagrin, from regret, from despair, and disappointment.
******
One evening her husband returned elated bearing in his hand a large envelope.
"Here," he said, "here is something for you."
She quickly tore open the wrapper and drew out a printed card on which were inscribed these words:
"The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame George Ramponneau ask the honor of Mr. and Mrs. Loisel's company Monday evening, January 18, at the Minister's residence."
Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation spitefully upon the table murmuring:
"What do you suppose I want with that?"
"But, my dearie, I thought it would make you happy. You never go out, and this is an occasion, and a fine one! I had a great deal of trouble to get it. Everybody wishes one, and it is very select; not many are given to employees. You will see the whole official world there."
She looked at him with an irritated eye and declared impatiently:
"What do you suppose I have to wear to such a thing as that?"
He had not thought of that; he stammered:
"Why, the dress you wear when we go to the theater. It seems very pretty to me—"
He was silent, stupefied, in dismay, at the sight of his wife weeping. Two great tears fell slowly from the corners of his eyes toward the corners of his mouth; he stammered:
"What is the matter? What is the matter?"
By a violent effort, she had controlled her vexation and responded in a calm voice, wiping her moist cheeks:
"Nothing. Only I have no dress and consequently I cannot go to this affair. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better fitted out than I."
He was grieved, but answered:
"Let us see, Matilda. How much would a suitable costume cost, something that would serve for other occasions, something very simple?"
She reflected for some seconds, making estimates and thinking of a sum that she could ask for without bringing with it an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk.
Finally she said, in a hesitating voice:
"I cannot tell exactly, but it seems to me that four hundred francs ought to cover it."
He turned a little pale, for he had saved just this sum to buy a gun that he might be able to join some hunting parties the next summer, on the plains at Nanterre, with some friends who went to shoot larks up there on Sunday. Nevertheless, he answered:
"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. But try to have a pretty dress."
******
The day of the ball approached and Mme. Loisel seemed sad, disturbed, anxious. Nevertheless, her dress was
