She would lead a holy life, for she would pray continually, when there
was nothing else that she could do. When she could not be thinking out
some good thing for her people, she would meditate upon higher things
for the good of her own soul. But first and foremost should be the
doing, the helping, the giving of life to the far spent, and of hope to
the helpless.
There in that room, where she dwelt continually in those days, she made
no vow, she registered no resolution, she imposed no one self upon
another self within her to thrust out evil and implant good. She had no
need of that. It was all as simply natural as the growth of a flower,
effortless, rising heavenward by its own instinct life.
In one thing only she made a determination of her will. She decided that
with the new year she would at last take over her fortune and estates
into her own management. Until she did that, she could not know what she
had, nor where she should begin her good work. That was absolutely
necessary, and of course, thought she, it presented no difficulty at
all. Possibly her own indolence about it, and her distaste for going
into the question of money and accounts, was a fault with which she
should have reproached herself, because she might have begun to do good
sooner, had she chosen. But she did not think of that. She would begin
with the new year.
As though a good destiny had anticipated her desire, the first call for
her help came suddenly, on the day after the last recorded conversation
between Gregorio and Matilde.
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