s enough to quiet
her soul with the balm of having intended the best. She continued to
ask herself only "was I right?" and it was by the answer to that
question that she would abide, whether in the stony content of
accomplished righteousness, or in an enduring remorse that pointed to
a goal in whose labyrinthine possibilities her soul lost itself and
fainted away.

Lucilla went out to get a breath of fresh air as her mother had
commanded, but she did not go far to seek it. Not further than the end
of the back veranda, where she stood for some time motionless, before
beginning to occupy herself in a way which Aunt Belindy, who was
watching her from the kitchen window, considered highly problematical.
The negress was wiping a dish and giving it a fine polish in her
absence of mind. When her curiosity could no longer contain itself she
called out:

"W'ats dat you'se doin' dah, you li'le gal? Come heah an' le' me see."
Lucilla turned with the startled look which seemed to be usual with
her when addressed.

"Le' me see," repeated Aunt Belindy pleasantly.

Lucilla approached the window and handed the woman a small square of
stiff writing paper which was stuck with myriad tiny pin-holes; some
of which she had been making when interrupted by Aunt Belindy.

"W'at in God A'Mighty's name you call dat 'ar?" the darkey asked
examining the paper critically, as though expecting the riddle would
solve itself before her eyes.

"Those are my acts I've been counting," the girl replied a little
gingerly.

"Yo' ax? I don' see nuttin' 'cep' a piece o' papah plum fill up wid
holes. W'at you call ax?"

"Acts--acts. Don't you know what acts are?"

"How you want me know? I neva ben to no school whar you larn all dat."

"Why, an act is something you do that you don't want to do--or
something you don't want to do, that you do--I mean that you don't do.
Or if you want to eat something and don't. Or an aspiration; that's an
act, too."

"Go long! W'ats dat--aspiration?"

"Why, to say any kind of little prayer; or if you invoke our Lord, or
our Blessed Lady, or one of the saints, that's an aspiration. You can
make them just as quick as you can think--you can make hundreds and
hundreds in a day."

"My Lan'! Dat's w'at you'se studyin' 'bout w'en you'se steppin' 'roun'
heah like a droopy pullet? An' I t'ought you was studyin' 'bout dat
beau you lef' yonda to Sent Lous."

"You mustn't say such things to me; I'm going to be a religious.