The Hectic Honeymoon

My Honeymoon? Oh, it was most embarrassing, even though my husbands is a dear man, an angel. It is all I can do to tell you about it.

To think! All my girl friends, the married ones, told me nothing! My closest friend, who once swore she would never conceal a thing from me, even she failed to warm me! If only I had been put on my guard. If only they had put one little simple suspicion in my soul, they would have prevented the stupid blunder for which I still blush and which my husband will laugh about for the rest of this life.

You recall my marriage. I was to start the same evening on my honeymoon. Certainly I did not at all resemble Paulette, whom Gyp tells us about in that droll account of her spiritual romance called About Marriage. And if my mother had said to me, as Mme. d'Hautretan did to her daughter: "Your husbandy will take you in his arms-- and--" I should certainly not have (continued on page 68)Hectic Honeymoon(continued from page 59) responded as Paulette did, laughing: "Go no farther, Mamma, I know all that as well as you."

As for me, I knew nothing at all, and Mamma, my poor Mamma who is always frightened, dared not broach the delicate subject.

Well then, at five o'clock in the evening, after the reception, they told us that the carriage was waiting. The guests had gone; I was ready. I can still hear the noise of the trunks on the staircase and the blowing of Papa's nose, which seemed to indicate he was weeping. In embracing me the poor man said: "Courage!" as if I were going to have a tooth pulled. As for Mamma, she was a fountain. My husband urged me to hasten these painful adieux, and I was myself all in tears, although very happy. That is not easy to explain but is entirely true.

It had been decided that we should go on a journey through Normandy for about six weeks.

That evening we arrived at Dieppe. When I say that evening, I mean midnight.

You know how I love the sea. I declared to my husband that I could not retire until I had seen it. He appeared very contrary. I asked him, laughing, if he was sleepy.

He answered: "No, my dear, but you must understand that I would like to be alone with you."

I was surprised. "Alone with me?" I replied. "But you have been alone with me all the way from Paris in the train."

He laughed. "Yes -- but -- in the train -- that is not the same thing as being in our room."

I would not give up. "Oh well," I said, "we will be alone on the beach, won't we?"

Decidedly he was not pleased. He said: "Very well; as you wish."

The night was magnificent, one of those nights which brings grand, vague ideas to the soul -- more sensations than thoughts, perhaps -- that brings a desire to open the arms as if they were wings and embrace the heavens, but how can I express it? One always feels that these unknown things can be comprehended.

There was a dreaminess, a poesy in the air, a happiness of another kind than that of earth, a sort of infinite intoxication which comes from the stars, the moon, the silver, glistening water. These are the best moments of life. They are a glimpse of a different existence, an embellished, delicious existence; they are the revelation of what could be, of what will be, perhaps.

Nevertheless, my husband appeared impatient to return. I said to him: "Are you cold?"

"No."

"Then look at the little boat down there which seems asleep on the water. Could anything be better than this? I would willingly remain here until daybreak. Tell me, shall we wait and see the dawn?"

He seemed to think that I was mocking him and very soon took me back to the hotel by force! If I had known! Oh, the poor darling!

When we were once alone I felt ashamed, constrained, without knowing why. I swear it. Finally I made him go into the bathroom while I got into bed.

Oh, my dear, how can I go further? Well, here it is! He took, without doubt, my extreme innocence for mischief, my extreme simplicity for profligacy, my confident, credulous abandon for some kind of female strategy and paid no regard to the delicate management that is necessary in order to make an innocent girl comprehend and accept such mysteries.

All at once I believe he lost his head. Then fear seized me; I asked him if he wished to kill me. When terror invades, one does not reason or think further; one is mad. In one second I had imagined frightful things. I thought of various stories in the newspapers, of mysterious crimes, of all the whispered tales of young girls married to brutes. I fought, repulsed him, was overcome with fright. I even pulled a wisp of hair from his mustache and, relieved by this effort, I arose, shouting: "Help! Help!" I ran to the door, drew the bolts and hurried, nearly naked, downstairs.

Other doors opened. Men in night apparel appeared with lights in their hands. I fell into the arms of one of them, imploring his protection. He made an attack upon my husband.

I knew no more about it. They fought and they shouted; then suddenly they laughed, but laughed in a way you could never imagine. The whole house laughed, from the cellar to the garret. I heard in the corridors and in the rooms about us explosions of gaiety. The kitchenmaids laughed under the roof, and the bellboy was in contortions on his bench in the vestibule.

Think of it! In a hotel!

Soon I found myself alone with my husband, who made me some summary explanations, as one explains a surgical operation before it is undertaken.

Oh, what dark secrets are concealed from young girls! But we must be philosophical and never question the actions of our dear masters. In truth, we women have to accustom ourselves to everything in life.

I ran downstairs, nearly naked