Aun' Jinkey watched her curiously, for it was evident that Miss Lou's thoughts were far away. "Wat you tinkin' 'bout, Miss Lou?" she asked. "Oh, I hardly know myself. Come, Aun' Jinkey, be a nice old witch and tell me my fortune." "Wat you want ter know yo' fortin fur?" "I want to know more than I do now. Look here, Aun' Jinkey, does that run we hear singing yonder go round and round in one place and with the same current? Doesn't it go on? Uncle and aunt want me to go round and round, doing the same things and thinking the same thoughts--not my own thoughts either. Oh, I'm getting so tired of it all!" "Lor' now, chile, I wuz des 'parin' you ter dat run in my min'," said Aun' Jinkey in an awed tone. "No danger of uncle or aunt comparing me to the run, or anything else. They never had any children and don't know anything about young people. They have a sort of prim, old-fashioned ideal of what the girls in the Baron family should be, and I must become just such a girl--just like that stiff, queer old portrait of grandma when she was a girl. Oh, if they knew how tired of it all I am!" "Bless yo' heart, Miss Lou, you ain' projeckin' anyting?" "No, I'm just chafing and beating my wings like a caged bird." "Now see yere, Miss Lou, isn't you onreason'ble? You hab a good home; mars'r en miss monstus pius, en dey bringin' you up in de nurter en 'monitions ob de Lawd." "Too much 'monition, Aun' Jinkey. Uncle and aunt's religion makes me so tired, and they make Sunday so awfully long. Their religion reminds me of the lavender and camphor in which they keep their Sunday clothes. And then the pages of the catechism they have always made me learn, and the long Psalms, too, for punishment! I don't understand religion, anyway. It seems something meant to uphold all their views, and anything contrary to their views isn't right or religious. They don't think much of you Baptists." "We ain' sufrin' on dat 'count, chile," remarked Aun' Jinkey, dryly. "There now, Aun' Jinkey, don't you see? Uncle owns you, yet you think for yourself and have a religion of your own. If he knew I was thinking for myself, he'd invoke the memory of all the Barons against me. I don't know very much about the former Barons, except that my father was one. According to what I am told, the girl Barons were the primmest creatures I ever heard of. Then uncle and aunt are so inconsistent, holding up as they do for my admiration Cousin Mad Whately. I don't wonder people shorten his name from Madison to Mad, for if ever there was a wild, reckless fellow, he is. Uncle wants to bring about a match, because Mad's plantation joins ours. Mad acted as if he owned me already when he was home last, and yet he knows I can't abide him. He seems to think I can be subdued like one of his skittish horses." "You HAB got a heap on yo' min', Miss Lou, you sho'ly hab. You sut'ny t'ink too much for a young gyurl."