ly over the
horizon. A lateen sail was visible in the direction of Cat Island, and
others to the south seemed almost motionless in the far distance.

"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 up