Why was Marilla so keen to invite the minister and his wife?
(2 Points)
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The Necklace By Guy De Maupassant
She was one of those pretty, young ladies, born as if through an error of destiny, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no hopes, no means of becoming known, loved, and married by a man either rich or distinguished; and she allowed herself to marry a petty clerk in the office of the Board of Education. She was simple, but she was unhappy.
She suffered incessantly, feeling herself born for all delicacies and luxuries. She suffered from the poverty of her apartment, the shabby walls and the worn chairs. All these things tortured and angered her.
When she seated herself for dinner opposite her husband who uncovered the tureen with a delighted air, saying, “Oh! the good potpie! I know nothing better than that…,” she would think of elegant dinners, of shining silver; she thought of the exquisite food served in marvellous dishes. She had neither frocks nor jewels, nothing. And she loved only those things.
She had a rich friend, a schoolmate at the convent, who she did not like to visit — she suffered so much when she returned. She wept for whole days 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 drew out a printed card on which were inscribed these words: The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame George Ramponneau ask the honour of M. and Mme Loisel’s company. Monday ask the honour of M. and Mme Loisel’s company. Monday evening, January 18, at the Minister’s residence. 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! 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 theatre. It seems very pretty to me…” He was silent, stupefied, in dismay, at the sight of his wife weeping. 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 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, with some friends who went to shoot larks 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 nearly ready. Her husband said to her one evening, “What is the matter with you? You have acted strangely for two or three days.”
And she responded, “I am vexed not to have a jewel, nothing to adorn myself with. I shall have such a poverty-stricken look. I would prefer not to go to this party.”
He replied, “You can wear some natural flowers. In this season they look very chic.”
She was not convinced. “No”, she replied, “there is nothing more humiliating than to have a shabby air in the midst of rich women.”
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Which chapter???????
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