Today, when my husband came home, he was wearing a smile on his face with a triumphant air, holding a large envelope in his hand. He held it out to me, telling me that it was for me. I got shocked and surprised all at once. I had not expected it to be for me.
I quickly ripped it open, thinking it contained something like an award of sorts, or something that could save me from my miserable life. However, when I opened it, it only contained a printed card saying this: "The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honour of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th."
Those words were still ringing in my ears when I read it out to myself. I felt so stunned for a moment, then hot anger filled my face. What was my husband thinking, did he not know the excruciating pain I felt?
I threw the invitation back onto the table, muttering crossly. His reasoning to me was that he thought I would want to go out, but he knew nothing. What was I to wear? The suggestion he made was so poor, it brought tears to my eyes. I would feel so humiliated, so embarrassed. Me, wear the gown that I no longer have? How am I suppose to go to the ball like that?
I could tell my husband was in despair. I knew he was trying his best to cheer me up, but he still knew nothing of my pain. Trying to make things better, he asked how much I would need to get a gown. I gave it some thought, and told him that four hundred francs would be enough.
When I said that, I could see his face turn pale, then despair filled me again. I knew he would deny me, I knew that something like this would not work. He once told me that he was laying aside that amount to buy himself a gun. However, to my surprise, he actually agreed! He was a kind man, thinking about me before his pleasure, which every man should treat a lady.
I was grateful, but I still wondered, what could I really get with four hundred francs?
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