One morning that Berthe happened to be at her mother’s, Adèle came and said with a scared look that Monsieur Saturnin was there with a man. Doctor Chassagne, the director of the Asile des Moulineaux, had already warned the parents several times that he would he unable to keep their son, for he did not consider him sufficiently mad. And, hearing of the signature which Berthe had obtained from her brother for the three thousand francs, dreading being compromised in the matter, he suddenly sent him home to his family.
It created quite a scare. Madame Josserand, who was afraid of being strangled, wished to argue with the man. But all she could get out of him was:
“The director told me to inform you that when one is sufficiently sensible to give money to one’s parents, one is sensible enough to live with them.”
“But he is mad, sir! he will murder us.”
“Anyhow, he is not too mad to sign his name!” answered the man, going off.
However, Saturnin came home very quietly, with his hands in his pockets, just as though he had returned from a stroll in the Tuileries gardens. He did not even allude to where he had been staying. He embraced his father, who was crying, and likewise heartily kissed his mother and his sister Hortense, whilst they both trembled tremendously. Then, when he caught sight of Berthe, he was indeed delighted, and caressed her with all the pretty ways of a little boy. She at once took advantage of his affected and confused condition to inform him of her marriage. He displayed no anger, not appearing at first to understand, as though he had forgotten his former fits of passion. But when she wished to return to her home down-stairs, he began to howl; he did not mind whether she was married or not, so long as she remained where she was, always with him and close to him. Then, seeing her mother’s frightened looks as she ran and locked herself in another room, it occurred to Berthe to take Saturnin to live with her. They would be able to find him something to do in the basement of the warehouse, though it were only to tie up parcels.
That same evening, Auguste, in spite of his evident repugnance, acceded to Berthe’s desire. They had scarcely been married three months and a secret disunion was already cropping up between them; it was the collision of two different constitutions and educations, a surly, fastidious and passionless husband, and a lively woman who had been reared in the hot-house of false Parisian luxury, who played fast and loose with existence, so as to enjoy it all alone like a spoiled and selfish child.
The husband’s main revolts were on account of these too glaring costumes, the usefulness of which he was unable to see. Why dress himself thus above one’s means and position in life? What need was there to spend in such a manner the money that was so necessary for his business? He generally said that when one sold silks to other women, one should wear woolens oneself.
As a result of matrimony, Berthe was gradually acquiring her mother’s build. She was growing fatter, and resembled her more than she had ever done before. She was no longer the girl who did not seem to care about anything and who quietly submitted to the maternal cuffs; she had grown into a woman, who was rapidly becoming more obstinate every day, and who had formed the intention of making everything bow to her pleasure. Auguste looked at her at times, astounded at such a sudden change. At first, she had felt a vain joy in throning herself at the cashier’s desk, in a studied costume of elegant simplicity. Then she had soon wearied of trade, suffering from constant want of exercise, threatening to fall ill, yet resigning herself to it all the same, but with the attitude of a victim who sacrifices her life to the prosperity of her home. And, from that moment, a struggle at every hour of the day had commenced between her and her husband. She shrugged her shoulders behind his back, the same as her mother did behind her father’s; she went again through all the family quarrels which had disturbed her youth, treating her husband as the gentleman who had simply got to pay, overwhelming him with that contempt for the male sex which was, so to say, the basis of her education.
“Ah! mamma was right!” she would exclaim after each of their quarrels.