Nobody, in this affair, had given a thought to Albert's mother who was still in Grenoble, despite the heat, and was to be deprived of her little grandchildren. With the best of intentions one cannot please everybody.
As a result of her peculiar position Elizabeth had decided to live very quietly. She had spoken of it to her mother who had approved of her attitude. At first she herself took the two children out walking, manifested a reserved manner with persons whom she knew, and did not come into the drawing-room when there were visitors. One morning, as she was crossing the lawn in front of the casino, with Philippe and Marie Louise, whom she was scolding for picking a flower there, she overheard two young men conversing as follows:
"That is Mme. Albert Derize."
"The wife of the historian?"
"Yes."
"She is very pretty."
She blushed at this compliment intentionally spoken in too loud a tone, but was not displeased to be noticed for something other than the name she bore, which was a burden to her. Her attorney had promised her that at the opening of the courts, separation would be granted without delay in her favor, more especially since the defendant, not having as yet taken any steps, would probably not appear, signifying that he did not intend to enter a counter action. So there would be time to organize her life anew. Until then there was nothing to do but wait, since she lacked nothing and had all the advantages of a home.
But this home grew more lively from day to day. There were motor parties to which she was always invited with the children. She refused; but her friends protested so vehemently or so persuasively that finally she was forced to accept. Thus she found herself in a social whirl. She was taken to the castle of Vizille which rears its enormous mass of gray stone above the blue Romanche; to the old bridge of Claix whose arch is so high that it frames the whole landscape, and over the plain of Matheysine to the little lakes of Laffrey, whose dark waters add a touch of charm to the severity of the neighboring mountains. These short afternoon excursions were gradually prolonged: the Grande Chartreuse, the Lautaret Pass at the foot of the Grand Galibier or to Vercors, where the picturesque Pont-en-Royans, carved out of the rock, rises perpendicularly from the water in the shadow of the castle ruins. The forty-horse power car belonging to the Passerats led the way for the inferior machine of the Bonnard-Bassons, which was driven by M. de Vimelle, as favored in physique as he was weak in intellect. They bought provisions and lunched gayly on the grass, at the edge of a stream, or they went to some quiet inn which they promptly enlivened. Marie Louise was collecting souvenirs to dazzle Jeanne and Renée de Crozet, who had sent remarkable post-cards from Aix-Les-Bains. How could they break up the party at night after such pleasant days? Elizabeth used as a pretext the fact of having to put her two little ones to bed, who were overtired by the long ride, but could give no excuse for not rejoining the party. Home life which had never attracted her, was especially unpleasant to her now. She enjoyed a succession of aimless days, and soon ceased trying to hold herself aloof.
Her parents were obliged to return the hospitality they had accepted. When she appeared in a nile green gown, which she had only worn once at the Duchess of Béard's before the event which had upset her life, she saw in the women's looks that they were not genuinely sincere in the touching sympathy they expressed to her on every occasion. The new-comers in their set made a great deal of her with that easy freedom which results from the absence of a woman's husband. Although she was the least décolleté of all the women, she felt a new awkwardness, which recalled her début as a young girl, in feeling her shoulders exposed: shoulders, whose mother-of-pearl whiteness was greatly admired. She had the impression that this was not her place, and her personal success only half dispelled the idea.
She felt it again, one day as she was walking with her children to Saint Martin d'Uriage. The closed châlet where she had spent so many peaceful summers, the church near-by, the charm of this hamlet lost in the woods, stirred her emotions which sensed the influence of places, as of people. She opened the chapel door, and in her prayer—very short because of her impatient companions—she had time to ask herself if this continual round of gayety were a normal existence for one in her position; if such habits of going about, of amusement and of pleasure, would not later spoil the precocious imagination of Marie Louise and Philippe, who, while rolling about in the grass and playing with the little peasants, were acquiring, along with good health, simplicity of heart. To her great astonishment, on the plane-tree avenue, the little boy, without bashfulness, asked when they would go home, but Marie Louise, blushing and cuddling up to her mother, said: