"Of whom--of what are you thinking?" asked Adele of her companion,

whose countenance she had been watching with a little amused attention,

arrested by the absorbed expression which seemed to have seized and

fixed every feature into a statuesque repose.

"Nothing," returned Mrs. Pontellier, with a start, adding at once: "How

stupid! But it seems to me it is the reply we make instinctively to

such a question. Let me see," she went on, throwing back her head and

narrowing her fine eyes till they shone like two vivid points of light.

"Let me see. I was really not conscious of thinking of anything; but

perhaps I can retrace my thoughts."

"Oh! never mind!" laughed Madame Ratignolle. "I am not quite so

exacting. I will let you off this time. It is really too hot to think,

especially to think about thinking."

"But for the fun of it," persisted Edna. "First of all, the sight of the

water stretching so far away, those motionless sails against the blue

sky, made a delicious picture that I just wanted to sit and look at. The

hot wind beating in my face made me think--without any connection that I

can trace of a summer day in Kentucky, of a meadow that seemed as big as

the ocean to the very little girl walking through the grass, which was

higher than her waist. She threw out her arms as if swimming when she

walked, beating the tall grass as one strikes out in the water. Oh, I

see the connection now!"

"Where were you going that day in Kentucky, walking through the grass?"

"I don't remember now. I was just walking diagonally across a big field.

My sun-bonnet obstructed the view. I could see only the stretch of green

before me, and I felt as if I must walk on forever, without coming to

the end of it. I don't remember whether I was frightened or pleased. I

must have been entertained.

"Likely as not it was Sunday," she laughed; "and I was running away from

prayers, from the Presbyterian service, read in a spirit of gloom by my

father that chills me yet to think of."

"And have you been running away from prayers ever since, ma chere?"

asked Madame Ratignolle, amused.

"No! oh, no!" Edna hastened to say. "I was a little unthinking child in

those days, just following a misleading impulse without question. On the

contrary, during one period of my life religion took a firm hold upon

me; after I was twelve and until-until--why, I suppose until now, though

I never thought much about it--just driven along by habit. But do you

know," she broke off, turning her quick eyes upon Madame Ratignolle and

leaning forward a little so as to bring her face quite close to that

of her companion, "sometimes I feel this summer as if I were walking

through the green meadow again; idly, aimlessly, unthinking and

unguided."




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