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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15596-8.txt b/15596-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..048119d --- /dev/null +++ b/15596-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10729 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Bressant, by Julian Hawthorne + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Bressant + + +Author: Julian Hawthorne + +Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15596] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT*** + + +E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team from page images generously +made available by the Digital & Multimedia Center, Michigan State +University Libraries + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through Making of + America Collection, University of Michigan Libraries. See + http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moagrp/ + + + + + +BRESSANT + +A Novel + +by + +JULIAN HAWTHORNE + +1873 + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I.--HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF + + II.--SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER + + III.--SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT + + IV.--A BUSINESS TRANSACTION + + V.--BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE + + VI.--CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT + + VII.--PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL + + VIII.--GREAT EXPECTATIONS + + IX.--THE DAGUERREOTYPE + + X.--ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT! + + XI.--EVERY LITTLE COUNTS + + XII.--DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART + + XIII.--A KEEPSAKE + + XIV.--NURSING + + XV.--AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE + + XVI.--PARTING AN ANCHOR + + XVII.--SOPHIE'S CONFESSION + + XVIII.--A FLANK MOVEMENT + + XIX.--AN INTERMISSION + + XX.--BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN + + XXI.--PUTTING ON THE ARMOR + + XXII.--LOCKED UP + + XXIII.--ARMED NEUTRALITY + + XXIV.--A BIT OF INSPIRATION + + XXV.--ANOTHER INTERMISSION + + XXVI.--BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION + + XXVII.--FACT AND FANCY + + XXVIII.--A DISAPPOINTMENT + + XXIX.--FOUND + + XXX.--LOST + + XXXI.--MOTHER AND SON + + XXXII.--WHERE TWO ROADS MEET + + XXXIII.--TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR + + XXXIV.--THE HOUR AND THE MAN + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF. + + +One warm afternoon in June--the warmest of the season thus +far--Professor Valeyon sat, smoking a black clay pipe, upon the broad +balcony, which extended all across the back of his house, and overlooked +three acres of garden, inclosed by a solid stone-wall. All the doors in +the house were open, and most of the windows, so that any one passing in +the road might have looked up through the gabled porch and the +passage-way, which divided the house, so to speak, into two parts, and +seen the professor's brown-linen legs, and slippers down at the heel, +projecting into view beyond the framework of the balcony-door. +Indeed--for the professor was an elderly man, and, in many respects, a +creature of habit--precisely this same phenomenon could have been +observed on any fine afternoon during the summer, even to the exact +amount of brown-linen leg visible. + +Why the old gentleman's chair should always have been so placed as to +allow a view of so much of his anatomy and no more is a question of too +subtle and abstruse conditions to be solved here. One reason doubtless +lay in the fact that, by craning forward over his knees, he could see +down the passage-way, through the porch, and across the grass-plot which +intervened between the house and the fence, to the road, thus commanding +all approaches from that direction, while his outlook on either side, +and in front, remained as good as from any other position whatsoever. To +be sure, the result would have been more easily accomplished had the +chair been moved two feet farther forward, but that would have made the +professor too much a public spectacle, and, although by no means +backward in appearing, at the fitting time, before his fellow-men, he +enjoyed and required a certain amount of privacy. + +Moreover, it was not toward the road that Professor Valeyon's eyes +were most often turned. They generally wandered southward, over the +ample garden, and across the long, winding valley, to the range of +rough-backed hills, which abruptly invaded the farther horizon. It was +a sufficiently varied and vigorous prospect, and one which years had +endeared to the old gentleman, as if it were the features of a friend. +Especially was he fond of looking at a certain open space, near the +summit of a high, wooded hill, directly opposite. It was like an oasis +among a desert of trees. Had it become overgrown, or had the surrounding +timber been cut away, the professor would have taken it much to heart. A +voluntary superstition of this kind is not uncommon in elderly gentlemen +of more than ordinary intellectual power. It is a sort of half-playful +revenge they wreak upon themselves for being so wise. Probably Professor +Valeyon would have been at a loss to explain why he valued this small +green spot so much; but, in times of doubt or trouble, be seemed to +find help and relief in gazing at it. + +The entire range of hills was covered with a dense and tangled +timber-growth, save where the wood-cutters had cleared out a steep, +rectangular space, and dotted it with pale-yellow lumber-piles, that +looked as if nothing less than a miracle kept them from rolling over and +over down to the bottom of the valley, or where the gray, irregular face +of a precipice denied all foothold to the boldest roots. There was +nothing smooth, swelling, or graceful, in the aspect of the range. They +seemed, hills though they were, to be inspired with the souls of +mountains, which were ever seeking to burst the narrow bounds that +confined them. And, for his part, the professor liked them much better +than if they had been mountains indeed. They gave an impression of +greater energy and vitality, and were all the more comprehensible and +lovable, because not too sublime and vast. + +In another way, his garden afforded as much pleasure to the professor as +his hills. From having planned and, in a great measure, made it himself, +he took in it a peculiar pride and interest. He knew just the position +of every plant and shrub, tree and flower, and in what sort of condition +they were as regarded luxuriance and vigor. Sitting quietly in his +chair, his fancy could wander in and out along the winding paths, +mindful of each new opening vista or backward scene--of where the shadow +fell, and where the sunshine slept hottest; could inhale the fragrance +of the tea-rose bush, and pause beneath the branches of the elm-tree; +the material man remaining all the while motionless, with closed +eyelids, or, now and then, half opening them to verify, by a glance, +some questionable recollection. This utilization, by the mental +faculties alone, of knowledge acquired by physical experience, always +produces an agreeable sub-consciousness of power--the ability to be, at +the same time, active and indolent. + +In about the centre of the garden, flopped and tinkled a weak-minded +little fountain. The shrubbery partly hid it from view of the balcony, +but the small, irregular sound of its continuous fall was audible in the +quiet of the summer afternoons. Weak-minded though it was, Professor +Valeyon loved to listen to it. It suited him better than the full-toned +rush and splash of a heavier water-power; there was about it a human +uncertainty and imperfection which brought it nearer to his heart. +Moreover, weak and unambitious though it was, the fountain must have +been possessed of considerable tenacity of purpose, to say the least, +otherwise, doing so little, it would not have been persistent enough to +keep on doing it at all. It was really wonderful, on each recurring +year, to behold this poor little water-spout effecting neither more nor +less than the year before, and with no signs of any further aspirations +for the future. + +A flight of five or six granite steps led up from the garden to the +balcony, and, although they were quite as old as the rest of the house, +they looked nearly as fresh and crude as when they were first put down. +The balcony itself was strongly built of wood, and faced by a broad and +stout railing, darkened by sun and rain, and worn smooth by much leaning +and sitting. Overhead spread an ample roof, which kept away the blaze +of the noonday sun, but did not deny the later and ruddier beams an +entrance. On either side the door-way, the windows of the dining-room +and of the professor's study opened down nearly to the floor. Every +thing in the house seemed to have some reference to the balcony, and, +in summer, it was certainly the most important part of all. + +From the balcony to the front door extended, as has already been said, +a straight passage-way, into which the stairs descended, and on which +opened the doors of three rooms. It was covered with a deeply-worn strip +of oil-cloth, the pattern being quite undistinguishable in the middle, +and at the entrances of the doors and foot of the stairs, but appearing +with tolerable clearness for a distance of several inches out along the +walls. A high wainscoting ran along the sides; at the front door stood +an old-fashioned hat-tree, with no hats upon it; for the professor had +a way of wearing his hat into the house, and only taking it off when he +was seated at his study-table. + +The gabled porch was wide and roomy, but had seen its best days, and was +rather out of repair. The board flooring creaked as you stepped upon it, +and the seams of the roof admitted small rills of water when it rained +hard, which, falling on the old brown mat, hastened its decay not a +little. A large, arched window opened on either side, so that one +standing in the porch could be seen from the upper and lower front +windows of the house. The outer woodwork and roof of the porch were +covered by a woodbine, trimmed, however, so as to leave the openings +clear. A few rickety steps, at the sides and between the cracks of +which sprouted tall blades of grass, led down to the path which +terminated in the gate. This path was distinguished by an incongruous +pavement of white limestone slabs, which were always kept carefully +clean. The gate was a rattle-boned affair, hanging feebly between two +grandfatherly old posts, which hypocritically tried to maintain an air +of solidity, though perfectly aware that they were wellnigh rotted away +at the base. The action of this gate was assisted--or more correctly +encumbered--by the contrivance of a sliding ball and chain, creating a +most dismal clatter and flap as often as it was opened. The white-washed +picket fence, scaled and patched by the weather, kept the posts in +excellent countenance; and inclosed a moderate grass-plot, adorned with +a couple of rather barren black cherry-trees, and as many firs, with +low-spread branches. + +Above the house and the road rose a rugged eminence, sparely clothed +with patches of grass, brambles, and huckleberry-bushes, the gray knots +of rock pushing up here and there between. On the summit appeared +against the sky the outskirts of a sturdy forest, paradise of nuts and +squirrels. The rough road ran between rude stone-fences and straggling +apple-trees to the village, lying some two miles to the southeast. About +two hundred yards beyond the Parsonage--so Professor Valeyon's house was +called, he, in times past, having officiated as pastor of the +village--it made a sharp turn to the left around a spur of the hill, +bringing into view the tall white steeple of the village meeting-house, +relieved against the mountainous background beyond. + +They dined in the Parsonage at two o'clock. At about three the professor +was wont to cross the entry to his study, take his pipe from its place +on the high wooden mantel-piece, fill it from the brown earthen-ware +tobacco-box on the table, and stepping through the window on to the +balcony, takes his place in his chair. Here he would sit sometimes till +sundown, composed in body and mind; dreaming, perhaps, over the rough +pathway of his earlier life, and facilitating the process by exhaling +long wreaths of thinnest smoke-layers from his mouth, and ever and anon +crossing and recrossing his legs. + +On the present afternoon it was really very hot. Professor Valeyon, +occupying his usual position, had nearly finished his second pipe. He +had thrown off the light linen duster he usually wore, and sat with his +waistcoat open, displaying a somewhat rumpled, but very clean white +shirt-bosom; and his sturdy old neck was swathed in the white necktie +which was the only visible relic of his ministerial career. He had +covered his bald head with a handkerchief, for the double purpose of +keeping away the flies, and creating a cooling current of air. One of +his down-trodden slippers had dropped off, and lay sole-upward on the +floor. There was no symptom of a breeze in the still, warm valley, nor +even on the jagged ridges of the opposing hills. The professor, with all +his appliances for coolness and comfort, felt the need of one strongly. + +Mellowed by the distance, the long shriek of the engine, on its way from +New York, streamed upon his ears and set him thinking. A good many years +since he had been to New York!--nine, positively nine--not since the +year after his wife's death. It hardly seemed so long, looking back upon +it. He wondered whether time had passed as silently and swiftly to his +daughters as to him. At all events, they had grown in the interval from +little girls into young ladies--Cornelia nineteen, and Sophie not more +than a year younger. "Bless me!" murmured the professor aloud, taking +the pipe from his mouth, and bringing his heavy eyebrows together in a +thoughtful frown. + +He would scarcely have believed, in his younger years, that he would +have remained anywhere so long, without even a thought of changing the +scene. But then, his society days were over long ago, and he had seen +all he ever intended to see of the world. Here he had his house, and his +daily newspaper, and his books, and his garden, and the love and respect +of his daughters and fellow-townspeople. Was not that enough--was it not +all he could desire? But here, insensibly, the professor's eyes rested +upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill opposite. + +Very few people, be they never so old, or their circumstances never so +good, would find it impossible to mention something which they believe +they would be the happier for possessing. Perhaps Professor Valeyon was +not one of the exceptions, and was haunted by the idea that, were some +certain event to come to pass, life would be more pleasant and gracious +to him than it was now. Doubtless, however, an ideal aspiration of some +kind, even though it be never realized, is itself a kind of happiness, +without which we might feel at a loss. If the professor's solitary wish +had been fulfilled, and there had been no longer cause for him to say, +"If I had but this, I should be satisfied," might it not still happen +that in some unguarded, preoccupied moment he should start and blush to +find his lips senselessly forming themselves into the utterance of the +old formula? Would it not be a sad humiliation to acknowledge that the +treasure he had all his life craved, did not so truly fill and occupy +his heart as the mere act of yearning after it had done? + +In indulging in these speculations, however, we are pretending to a +deeper knowledge of Professor Valeyon's private affairs than is at +present authorizable. After a while he withdrew his eyes from the +hill-tops, sighed, as those do whose thoughts have been profoundly +absorbed, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. He began to debate +within himself--for the mind, unless strictly watched, is apt to waver +between light thoughts and grave--whether or no it was worth while to +make a second journey into the study after more tobacco. Perhaps +Cornelia was within call, and would thus afford a means of cutting the +Gordian knot at once. No! he remembered now that she had walked over to +the village for the afternoon mail, and would not be back for some time +yet. And Sophie--poor child! she would not leave her room for two weeks +to come, at least. + +"I wonder whether they ever want to see any thing of the outside world?" +said the old gentleman to himself, elevating his chin, and scratching +his short, white beard. "Reasonable to suppose they could appreciate +something better than the society hereabouts! A picnic once in a +while--sleigh-ride in winter--sewing-bees--dance at--at Abbie's; and all +in the company of a set of country bumpkins, like Bill Reynolds, and +awkward farmers' daughters! + +"It won't do--must be attended to! The good education I was at such +pains to give them--it'll only make them miserable if they're to wear +their lives out here. I'm getting old and selfish--that's the truth of +the matter. I want to sit here, and have my girls take care of me! +Pshaw! + +"Sophie, now--well, perhaps she don't need it so much, yet; she's +younger than her sister, and has a good deal more internal resource: +besides, she's too delicate at present. But Neelie--Neelie ought to go +at once--this very summer. She needs an enormous deal of action and +excitement, bodily and mental both, to keep her in wholesome condition. +Has that same restless, feverish devil in her that I used to have; never +do to let it feed upon itself! must get her absorbed in outside things! + +"But what am I to do?" resumed the professor, sitting up in his chair, +and shaking out his shirt-sleeves--for the heat of his meditations had +brought on a perspiration; "what can I do--eh? Sophie not in condition +to travel--can't leave her to take Cornelia--no one else to take +her--and she can't go alone, that's certain! Humph!" + +Professor Valeyon paused in his soliloquy, like a man who has turned +into a closed court under the impression that it is a thoroughfare, and +stared down with upwrinkled forehead at the sole of the kicked-off +slipper, indulging the while in a mental calculation of how many days it +would take for the hole near the toe to work down to the hole under the +instep, and thus render problematical the possibility of keeping the +shoe on at all. It might take three weeks, or, say at the utmost, a +month; one month from the present time. It was at the present time about +the 15th of June, the 14th or the 15th, say the 15th! Well, then, on the +15th of July the slipper would be worn out; in all human probability the +weather would be even hotter then than it was now; and yet, in the face +of that heat he would be obliged to go over to the village, get Jonas +Hastings to fit him with a new pair, and then go through the long agony +of breaking them in! At the thought, great drops formed on the old +gentleman's nose, and ran suddenly down into his white mustache. + +But this digression of thought was but superficial, and the sense that +something serious underlaid it remained always latent. The professor +leaned back in his chair, and sighed again heavily. It was true that he +was growing old, and now that he contemplated action, he felt that in +the last nine years the inertia of age had gained upon him. Besides, he +greatly loved his daughters, and though it is easy to say that the +greatest love is the greatest unselfishness, yet do we find a weakness +in our hearts which we cannot believe wholly wrong, strongly prompting +us to yearn and cling--even unwisely--to those who have our best +affection. "And what seems wise to-day may be proved folly to-morrow," +is our argument, "so let us cling to the good we have." + +And Professor Valeyon well knew that what time his daughters departed to +visit the outer world was likely to be the beginning of a longer journey +than to Boston or New York. They were attractive, and, it was to be +supposed, liable to be attracted; he would not be so weak as to imagine +that their love for their father could long remain supreme. But this old +man, who had kept abreast of the learning of the world, and was scarred +with many a bruise and stab received during his life's journey; who had +filled a pulpit, too, and preached Christian humility to his fellow +townspeople, had yet so much human heat and pride glowing like embers in +his old heart as to feel strong within him a bitter jealousy and sense +of wrong toward whatever young upstarts should intrude themselves, and +venture to brag of a love for his flesh and blood which might claim +precedence over his own. Doubtless the feeling was unworthy of him, and +he would, when the time came, play his part generously and well; but, so +long as the matter was purely imaginary, we may allow him some natural +ebullition of feeling. + +So powerful, indeed, was the effect produced upon Professor Valeyon by +the succession and conflict of gloomy and painful emotions, that he laid +down his black clay-pipe upon the broad arm of the easy-chair, and began +to search in all directions for his handkerchief: indulging himself +meanwhile with the base reflection that as there was no present +probability of depriving himself of his daughters, that ceremony must, +for a time at least, be postponed. While yet the handkerchief-hunt was +in full cry, the professor's ears caught the rattle and flap of the +opening gate, and following it the quick, vigorous tap of small +boot-heels upon the marble flagstones. Next came a light, rustling +spring up the creaking porch-steps, and ere the old gentleman could +get his head far enough over his knees to see down the entry, a +fresh-looking young woman appeared smiling in the door-way, dressed in +a tawny summer-suit, and holding up in one hand a long, slender envelop, +sealed with a conspicuous monogram, and stamped with the New York +post-mark. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER. + + +Before the delivery of the letter, a very pretty little ceremony took +place. The professor had stretched forth his hand to receive it, when, +by a sudden turn of the wrist and arm, the young lady whisked it out of +his reach and behind her back, and in place of it brought down her +fresh, sweet face with its fragrant mouth to within two inches of his +own wrinkled and bristly visage. A moment after, the ceremony was +completed, the letter delivered, and the postman, stepping over her +father's fallen slipper, leaned against the balcony-railing, and waited +for further developments. + +The professor took his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket, placed them +carefully upon his strongly-marked nose, and scrutinized in turn the +direction, post-mark, and seal. With a sniff of surprise, he then tore +open the envelop, and became immediately absorbed in the contents of the +inclosure, indicating his progress by much pursing and biting of his +lips, wrinkling of his forehead, and drawing together of his heavy +eyebrows. Having at length reached the end of the last page, he turned +it sharply about, and went through it once more, with half-articulate +grunts of comment; and finally, folding the letter carefully up, and +replacing it in the torn envelop, he caught the spectacles off his +nose, and, with them in one hand and the paper in the other, fixed his +eyes upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill. + +His daughter meanwhile had taken off her brown straw-hat, and was using +it as a fan, keeping up a light tattoo with one foot upon the plank +flooring. Her face was glowing with her four-mile walk in the hot sun, +but she showed no signs of weariness. The position in which she stood +was easy and graceful, but there was nothing statuesque or imposing +about it; it was evident that at the very next instant she might shift +into another equally as happy. Her eyes wandered from one object to +another with the absence of concentration of one whose mind is not fixed +upon any thing in particular. From the letter between the professor's +finger and thumb, they traveled upward to his thoughtful countenance; +thence took a leap to the decrepit water-spout which depended weakly +from the corner of the balcony-roof, and thence again ascended to a +great, solid, white cloud, with turreted outline clear against the blue, +which was slowly sliding across the sky from the westward, and +threatened soon to cut off the afternoon sunshine. + +The professor restlessly altered the position of his legs, thereby +drawing his daughter's attention once more to himself. Thinking she had +waited as long as was requisite for the maintenance of her dignity as a +non-inquisitive person, she transferred herself lightly to the arm of +her father's chair, grasping his beard in her plump, slender hand, and +turned his face up toward hers. + +"Well, papa! aren't you going to tell what the news is? Is it nice?" + +"Very nice!" said papa, taking her irreverent hand into his own, and +keeping it there. "At least you will think so," he added, looking half +playful and half wistful. + +Cornelia brought her lips into a pout, all ready to say, "what?" but did +not say it, and gazed at her father with round, interrogating eyes. + +"You'd be very glad to go away and leave me, of course," continued the +professor, assuming an air of studied unconcern. + +"Papa!" exclaimed the young lady, with an emphatic intonation of +affection, indignation, and bewilderment. + +"What! not be glad to go to New York, and to all the fashionable +watering-places, and be introduced to all the best society?" queried the +old gentleman, in hypocritical astonishment. + +"Papa!" again exclaimed the young lady; but this time in a tone which +the tumult of delight, anticipation, and a fear lest there should be a +mistake somewhere, softened almost into a whisper. She had risen from +the arm of the chair to her feet, and stood with her hands clasped +together beneath her chin. + +The professor laughed a short and rather unnatural laugh. "I thought you +wouldn't be obstinate about it, when you came to think it over," said +he, dryly. He folded up his spectacles and put them back in his +waistcoat pocket with, unusual elaboration of manner. "So you would +really like to have a change, would you? Well, I trust you will not be +disappointed in your expectations of society and watering-places. At all +events, you may learn to appreciate home more!" Here the professor +laughed again, as if he considered it a joke. + +Cornelia was too much entranced by the new idea to have any notion of +what he was talking about; she was already hundreds of miles away, +living in stately houses, driving in magnificent carriages, sweeping in +gorgeous silks and laces through gilded and illuminated ballrooms, and +listening to courtly compliments from handsome and immaculate gentlemen. +But when, presently, her scattered faculties began to return to a more +normal state, an unquenchable curiosity to know how the miracle was to +be worked, seized upon her. She dropped on her knees beside her father's +chair, took his hand in both of hers, and looked up in his face. + +"But how is it to be, papa, dear? I mean, whom am I to go with? and when +am I to go?--dear me, I haven't a thing to wear! Shall I have time to +get any thing ready? Isn't Sophie invited too? How strange it all seems! +I can hardly realize it, somehow. From whom is the letter?" + +"Can you remember when you were about nine years old?" inquired the +professor. + +"I don't know, I am sure," replied Cornelia, in some surprise at the +irrelevancy of the question. "Nothing particular. Oh! I know! we were in +New York!" said she, beginning to see some connection, and breaking into +a smile. + +"Do you remember seeing a lady there," continued the professor, talking +and looking straight at nothing, "who made a great deal of you and +Sophie, and asked you to call her Aunt Margaret?" + +"Oh--I believe--I do--," said Cornelia, slowly; "I think I didn't like +her much, because she was deaf or something, and talked in such a high +voice. She wasn't really our aunt, was she? Did she write the letter?" + +"Yes, she did, my dear, and invites you and Sophie to spend the summer +with her. You don't dislike her so much as to refuse, I suppose, do +you?" + +"O papa!" exclaimed his daughter, deprecatingly; for the old gentleman +had spoken rather in a tone of reproof. "I'm sure she's as kind and good +as she can be; I was only telling what I especially remembered about +her, you know. How did she come to think of us after so long?" + +"I used to know her quite well, long before you were born, my dear," +replied the professor, tapping with his fingers on the arm of the chair; +"and at that time I should not have been surprised at her offering me +any kindness. I _am_ surprised now," he added, with a good deal of +feeling; "she's a better friend than I thought." + +Cornelia remained silent for several moments, because, not in the least +comprehending what sort of ground her papa was walking on, she feared +that the questions and remarks she was anxious to advance might jar with +his mood. At length, a sufficient time having elapsed to warrant, in her +opinion, the introduction of intelligible topics, she looked up and +spoke again. + +"How soon, papa--how soon did you say--am I to go?" + +"First of July, Aunt Margaret says. Will that give you time enough to +make yourself fine?" + +"Now, papa, you're making fun of me," exclaimed the young lady, +delighted that he should be in the humor to do so, yet speaking in that +semi-reproachful tone which ladies sometimes adopt when the other sex +makes their costume the object of remark, "I can make myself as fine as +I can be by that time, of course! But how is it about Sophie? Won't she +be able to go too?" + +Papa shook his head, and combed his bristly white beard with his +fingers. "Sophie has been very ill," said he; "it wouldn't be safe to +have her go anywhere this summer. We can't take too much care of her. +Typhoid pneumonia is a dangerous thing, and though she's on the way to +recovery now, she might easily relapse. And then," added the old +gentleman, in a more inward tone, "she would recover no more." + +Although he mumbled this sentence to himself, Cornelia caught his +meaning, more, probably, from his manner than from any thing she heard; +and being of an emotional and warmly-tender disposition, she began to +cry. She loved her sister very much; and something must also be allowed +to the fact that, having a great happiness in prospect for herself, she +could afford to expend more sympathy on those less fortunate. As for the +professor, he, for a second time that afternoon, gave evidence of +possessing disgracefully little control over himself. He began another +fruitless search after his handkerchief, and finally asked Cornelia, +with some heat, whether she knew what had become of it. + +"Why, it's on your head, papa!" warbled she, brightly changing a laugh +for her tears; and papa, putting up his hand in great confusion, and +finding that it was indeed so, laughed also, and this time in a +perfectly natural manner; but he blew his nose very resoundingly, for +all that. + +The atmosphere being serene once more, the joy of the future became +again strong in Cornelia's heart, and coupled with it, an earnest +longing to disburden herself to some one, and who but her sister should +be her confidant? So she rose from her knees, and picked up her brown +straw hat, which, in the excitement, had fallen to the floor. + +"Is there any thing you'd like to do, papa dear?" asked she, laying her +forefinger caressingly upon his bald head. "Because if there isn't, I, I +should like--I think I'd better go to Sophie." + +Professor Valeyon nodded his head, being in truth desirous of taking +solitary counsel with himself. The letter contained a good deal more +than the invitation he had communicated to Cornelia, and he could not +feel at ease until he had more thoroughly analyzed and digested it. So +when his daughter had vanished through the door, with a smile and a kiss +of the hand, he mounted his spectacles again, and spread the letter open +on his knee. + +After reading a while in silence, he spoke; though his voice was audible +only to his own mental ears. + +"There was a time," said he, "when I wouldn't have believed I could ever +hear the news of that man's death, and take it so quietly! And now he +sends me his son!--as it were bequeaths him to me. Can it be as a +hostage for forgiveness, though so late? or is it merely because he knew +I could not but feel a vital interest in the boy, and would instruct and +treat him as my own? He was a shrewd judge of human nature--and yet, I +must not judge him harshly now." + +Here Professor Valeyon happened again to catch sight of his slipper, and +interrupted his soliloquy to extend his stockinged toe, fork it toward +himself, and having, with some trouble, got it right side uppermost, to +put it on. And then he referred once more to the letter. + +"I should like to know whether he was aware that Abbie was here, or that +she was alive at all! Margaret says nothing about it in her letter. If +he did, of course he must have written to her, or, if he was determined +to die as for these last twenty years and more he has lived, he would +never _knowingly_ have sent the boy where she was, on any consideration. +Well, well, I can easily find out how that is, from either Abbie or the +boy. By-the-way, I wonder whether this _incognito_ of his may have any +thing to do with it? Hum! Margaret says it's only so that he may not be +interrupted in his studies by acquaintances. Well, that's likely +enough--that's likely enough!" + +"By-the-way, where's the young man to stay? At Abbie's, of course, +if--Margaret says, at some good boarding-house. Well, Abbie's is the +only one in town. It's a singular coincidence, certainly, if it _is_ a +coincidence! Perhaps I'd better go down at once and see Abbie, and have +the whole matter cleared up. I shall have time enough before supper, if +I harness Dolly now." + +As Professor Valeyon arrived at this conclusion, he uplifted himself, +with some slight signs of the rustiness of age, from his chair, took his +brown-linen duster from the balcony railing across which it had been +thrown, and put it on, with laborious puffings, and a slight increase of +perspiration. Then, first turning round, to make sure that he had all +his belongings with him, he entered the hall-door, and passed through +into his study. + +The rooms in which we live seem to imbibe something of our +characteristics, and the examination of a dwelling-place may not +infrequently throw some light upon the inner nature of its occupant. The +professor's study was of but moderate size, carpeted with a +red-and-white check straw matting, considerably frayed and defaced in +the region of the table, and faded where the light from the windows fell +upon it. The four walls were hidden, to a height of about seven feet +from the floor, with rows upon rows of books, of all sizes and varieties +of binding, no small proportion being novels, and even those not +invariably of a classical standard. The only picture was a stained +engraving of the Transfiguration, over the mantel-piece, in a faded and +fly-be-spotted gilt frame. In the centre of the room, occupying, indeed, +a pretty large share of all the available space, stood an ample +study-table, covered with green baize, darkened, for a considerable +space around the inkstand, by innumerable spatterings of ink. It +supported a confused medley of natural and unnatural accompaniments to +reading and writing. A ponderous ebony inkstand, with solid cut-glass +receptacles, one being intended for powder, though none was ever put in +it, a mighty dictionary, which, being too heavy to be considered +movable, occupied one corner of the table by itself: the earthen +tobacco-jar, with a small piece chipped from the cover; pamphlets and +books, standing or lying upon one another; heaps of rusty steel and +blunted quill pens; a quire or two of blue and white letter-paper; a +paper-knife, loose in the handle, but smooth of edge; a box of lucifer +matches, and several burnt ends; an extra pipe or two; the professor's +straw hat; a brass rack for holding letters and cards; and a great deal +of pink blotting-paper scattered about everywhere. + +Opposite the table stood a chair, straight-backed and severe, in which +Professor Valeyon always sat when at work. He had a theory that it was +not well to be too much at bodily ease when intellectually occupied. +Directly behind the chair, upon the shelf of a bookcase, stood a plaster +cast of Shakespeare's face, the nose of which was most unaccountably +darkened and polished. It is doubtful whether even the professor himself +could have cleared up the mystery of this deepened color in the immortal +bard's nose. But whoever, during those hours set apart by the old +gentleman for solitary labor and meditation, had happened to peep in at +the window, would, ten to one, have beheld him tilted thoughtfully back +in his chair, abstractedly tweaking, with the forefinger and thumb of +his right hand, the sacred feature in question. He had done it every +day, for many years past, and never once found himself out, and, +doubtless, the great poet was far too broad-minded ever to think of +resenting the liberty, especially as it was only in his most thoughtful +moments that the professor meddled with him. + +The room contained little else in the way of furniture, except a few +extra chairs, and a malacca-joint cane, with an ivory head, which stood +in a corner near the door. It produced an impression at once of +cleanliness and disorder, therein bearing a strong analogy to the +professor's own person and habits; and the disorder was of such a kind, +that, although no rule or system in the arrangement of any thing was +perceptible, Professor Valeyon would have been at once and almost +instinctively aware of any alteration that might have been made, however +slight. + +On entering the study, the old gentleman first shuffled up to the +fireplace, flapping the heels of his slippers behind him as he went, and +deposited his pipe on the mantel-piece. Next, he put on his straw hat, +and, turning to the engraving of the Transfiguration, which had served +him as a looking-glass almost ever since it had hung there, he put +himself to rights, with his usual fierce scowlings, liftings of the +chin, and jerkings at collar and stock. When every thing seemed in +proper trim, he took his ivory-headed cane from its place in the corner, +and made his way along the entry to the front door. + +"Bless me!" ejaculated the professor, as he emerged upon the porch, +shading his eyes from the white dazzle of the road; "how hot it is, sure +enough!" Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the sun, which had been +coquetting for the last half-hour with the majestic white cloud which +Cornelia had idly watched from the balcony, suddenly plunged his burning +face right into its cool, soft bosom, and immediately a clear, gray +shadow gently took possession of the landscape. + +"Humph!" grunted the professor again, turning a sharp, wise eye to the +westward, "we shall have a thunder-shower before long. I must take the +covered wagon. But how's this? I declare I've forgotten to change my +slippers! I'm growing old--I'm growing old, that's certain!" + +As the old gentleman stood, shaking his head over this new symptom of +approaching senility, he happened to turn his eyes in the direction of +the village, and descried a figure approaching rapidly from the turn in +the road, which at once arrested his attention. + +"Who can that be?" muttered he to himself, frowning to assist his +vision. "None of the town boys, that's certain. Never saw such a figure +but once before! If any thing, this is the better man of the two. +By-the-way, what if it should be--! Humph! I believe it is, sure +enough." + +By this time the stranger, a very tall and broadly built young man, with +a close brown beard, and quick, comprehensive eyes, had arrived opposite +the house, and stood with one hand on the gate. + +"Is this the parsonage?" demanded he, speaking with great rapidity of +utterance, and turning his head half sideways as he spoke, without, +however, removing his eyes from the professor's face. + +The old gentleman nodded his head, "It is known by that name, sir!" said +he. + +With the almost impatient quickness which marked every thing he did--a +quickness which did not seem in any way allied to slovenliness or +inaccuracy, however--the young man pushed through the gate, which +protested loudly against such rough usage, and walked hastily up to the +porch-steps. He paused a moment ere ascending. + +"Are you Professor Valeyon?" he asked. + +Again the professor bowed his head in assent. "And are you--?" began +he. + +The young man sprang up the steps, and grasping the other's +half-extended hand, gave it a brief, hard shake. + +"I'm Bressant," said he. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT. + + +When Cornelia left her father on the balcony, she danced up-stairs, and +chasséed on tiptoe up to the door of Sophie's room. There she stopped +and knocked. + +Somehow or other, nobody ever went into that room without knocking. It +never entered any one's head to burst in unannounced. The door was an +unimposing-looking piece of deal, grained by some village artist into +the portraiture of an as yet undiscovered kind of wood, and considerably +impaired in various ways by time. It could not have been the door, +therefore. Nor was the bolt ever drawn, save at certain hours of the +morning and night. Sophie was not an ogre, either. Cornelia, who was +very trying at times, would have found it hard to recall an occasion +when Sophie had answered or addressed her sharply or crossly. If she +exerted any influence, or wielded any power, it was not of the kind +which attends a violent or morose temper. But no vixen or shrew, how +terrible soever she may be, can hope at all times or from all people to +meet with respect or consideration; while to Sophie Valeyon the world +always put on its best face and manner, secretly wondering at itself the +while for being so well-behaved. + +As to the affair of knocking, Sophie herself had never said a word about +it, one way or another. She always took it as a matter of course; +indeed, had she been loquacious on the subject, or insisted upon the +observance, Cornelia for one would have been very likely to laugh to +scorn and disregard her, therein acting upon a principle of her own, +which prompted her to measure her strength against any thing which +seemed to challenge her, and never to give up if she could help it. But +she had never had a trial of strength with Sophie, and possibly was +quite contented that it should be so. She would have shrunk from +thwarting or crossing her sister as she would from committing a secret +sin: there might be no material or visible ill-consequence, but the +stings of conscience would be all the sharper. + +So Cornelia knocked and entered, and the quiet, cool room in which her +sister lay seemed to glow and become enlivened by the joyous reflection +of her presence. Yet the effect of the room upon Cornelia was at least +as marked. She hushed herself, as it were, and tried, half +unconsciously, to adapt herself to the tone of her surroundings; for, +although her physical nature was sound and healthy, almost to +boisterousness, her perceptions remained very keen and delicate, and +occasionally rallied her upon the redundancy of her animal well-being +with something like reproof. + +It was singular, with how few and how simple means was created the +impression of purity and repose that this chamber produced! It brought +to mind the pearly interior of a shell, and a fanciful person might have +listened for the sea-music whispering through. The walls were papered +with pale gray, relieved by a light pink tracery, and the white-muslin +curtains were set off by a pink lining. A bunch of wild-flowers and +grasses, which Cornelia had gathered that morning, and Sophie had +arranged, stood on the mantel-piece. There were four or five +pictures--one, a bass-relief of Endymion, deep asleep, yet conscious in +his dream that the moon is peeping shyly over his polished shoulder, had +been copied from a famous original by Sophie herself. She had painted it +in a pale-brown mezzotint, which was like nothing in nature, but seemed +suitable of all others for the embodiment of the classic fable. This +picture hung over the mantel-piece. Opposite Sophie's bed was an +illumination of the Lord's Prayer, with clear gold lettering, and +capitals and border of celestial colors. The dressing-table was covered +with a white cloth, on which reposed a comb and brush and a pink +pin-cushion with a muslin cover, and over which hung a crayon of the +cherub of the Sistine Madonna, who leans his chin upon his hand. + +Within reach of Sophie's hand as she lay, were suspended a couple of +hanging shelves, which held her books. There were not a great many of +them, but they all bore signs of having been well read, and there was at +the same time a certain neatness and spotlessness in their appearance +which no merely new books could ever possess, but which was communicated +solely by Sophie's pure finger-touches. On the opposite side of the bed +stood a small table, on which ticked a watch; and beside the watch was a +work-basket, full of those multifarious little articles that only a +woman knows how to get together. + +Looking around the room, and noting the delicate nicety and precision of +its condition and arrangement, one would have supposed that Sophie's own +hands must have been very lately at work upon it. But it was many weeks +since she had even sat in the easy-chair that stood in the +rosy-curtained window; and, although now far advanced in convalescence, +she had taken no part in the care of her room since her illness. Why it +had still continued to retain its immaculateness was one of many similar +mysteries which must always surround a character like Sophie's. Every +thing she accomplished seemed not so much to be done, as to take place, +in accordance with her idea or resolve; and there were always, in her +manifestations of whatever kind, more spiritual than material elements. + +When Cornelia entered, Sophie laid down her sewing, and looked up-with a +smile in her eyes, which were large and gray, and the only regularly +beautiful part of her face. She had a way of confining a smile to them, +when wishing merely to express good-will or pleasure, which was peculiar +to herself, and very effective. Cornelia walked quite soberly up to the +bedside, kissed her sister, and then stood silent for several moments. + +Compared with her recent exhilaration, this was very extraordinary +behavior. She had rushed up-stairs intent upon pouring into Sophie's +ears the whole gorgeous tale of her hopes and anticipations for the +coming summer. Yet no sooner was she within the door than her excitement +seemed to die out, and her enthusiasm ebb away. Extraordinary as it +appeared, it was by no means a rare occurrence. Cornelia alone could +have told how common; if, indeed, she ever reflected upon the matter. +She was very quick to feel a divergence of interests between her sister +and herself, and always inferred that Sophie could not sympathize with +any thing for which she had no personal taste. In the present instance, +it had all at once occurred to her that her sister would not be likely +to care half so much about the gayeties of fashionable watering-places +and city-life as she did, and might therefore treat with indifference +what was to her an affair of the greatest moment; and a snub being one +of those things which Cornelia found it most difficult, even in the +mildest form, to endure, she had resolved, on the spur of the moment, to +approach the topic of her proposed departure with the same coolness +which she expected Sophie to manifest when she heard about it. + +"Have you kept at that sewing ever since I went away?" asked she, idly +examining the work which Sophie had laid down. + +"I believe so," replied Sophie, stroking her chin to a point between her +forefinger and thumb. "It's so pleasant to be able to sew again at all +that I should consider it no hardship to have to sew all day." + +Cornelia's thoughts immediately reverted to the dresses which the next +two weeks must see made. + +"You wouldn't be strong enough to do that, though, would you? I mean to +sew on dresses, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Dresses?" said Sophie, looking up inquiringly into her sister's face. +"Oh, you mean your dress for Abbie's Fourth-of-July party? I thought you +were going to wear your--" + +"Oh, no, not that; I wasn't thinking of that," interrupted Miss Valeyon, +with a gesture as if deprecating the idea of having ever entertained +ideas so lowly. "I shall hardly be in town on the Fourth," she added, +reflectively, as if calculating her engagements. + +Sophie looked amazed, though it would have taken a keener observer than +Cornelia was at the moment to detect the slight contraction of the under +eyelids, and the barely perceptible droop of the corners of the mouth. +She saw that her sister had something of moment to tell her, and was, +for some reason, coquettish about bringing it out. Cornelia was often +entertaining to Sophie when she least had intention of being so; but +Sophie was far too tender of the young lady's feelings knowingly to let +her suspect it. + +"Not be in town?" repeated she, demurely taking up her work; "why, where +are you going, dear?" + +"Oh!" said Cornelia, with one of those little half-yawns wherewith we +cover our nervousness or suspense, "I didn't tell you, did I? Papa +received a letter from a lady in New York, the one who wanted us to call +her 'Aunt Margaret' when we were there ever so long ago--the year after +mamma died, you know--asking me to come to her house there, and go round +with her to Saratoga and all the fashionable watering-places. The +invitation was for about the first of July, so--" + +Cornelia, speaking with a breathless rapidity which she intended for +_sang froid_, had got thus far, when Sophie, who had dropped her work +again, and had been regarding her with a beautiful expression of +surprise, joy, and affection in her eyes, stretched forth her arms, +cooed out a tender little cry of happy congratulation and sympathy, and +hugged her sister around the neck for a few moments in a very eloquent +silence. + +"Why, Sophie!" murmured Cornelia, covered with an astonishment of +smiles and tears, "how sweet you are! I didn't think you'd care; I +thought you'd think it foolish in me to be glad, dear Sophie!" + +"My darling!" said Sophie, with another hug. She felt rebuked and +remorseful; for if, as Cornelia's words unconsciously implied, her +sympathy was unexpected, it would appear she had gained a reputation for +coldness and indifference which she was far from coveting. It often +happens, certainly, that those whom we consider intellectually beneath +us, and whom, supposing them too dull to comprehend the evolutions of +our minds, we occasionally use for our amusement, possess an instinctive +insight far keener than that of experience, enabling them to read our +very souls with an accuracy which puts our self-knowledge to the blush, +and might quite turn the tables upon us, could they themselves but +appreciate their power. + +"But tell me all about it," resumed Sophie; "all the particulars. And +then we'll discuss the dresses. Dear me! I long to get to work upon +them." + +As a matter of fact, Cornelia had very few particulars to tell: all she +knew was the simple fact she had already stated. But it needed only a +small spark to enkindle her imagination; she plunged at once into a +perfect flower-garden of bright thoughts and rainbow fancies; +foreshadowed her whole journey from the arrival in New York to the +latest grand ball and conquest; glowed over the horses, the houses, and +the people; speculated profoundly in possible romances and romantic +possibilities, and became so eloquent in a pretty, half-childish, +half-womanish way she had, that Sophie's eyes shone, and she told +herself that Neelie was the dearest, cunningest sister in the world. + +From these glorious imaginings they descended--or ascended, perhaps--to +the dresses, and then Sophie's low, steady voice mingled with Cornelia's +rich, strenuous one, like pure water with red wine. Cornelia paced the +little room backward and forward--she could never keep still when she +was talking about what interested her, and now paused by the window, now +before the mantel-piece, now leaned for a moment on the foot-board of +Sophie's bed. She was very happy; indeed, this may have been the +happiest hour of her life, past or to come. We all have our happiest +hour, probably; and not always shall we find that happiness to have been +caused by higher or less selfish considerations than those which +animated Cornelia Valeyon. + +During one of her visits to the window, she was arrested by the vision +of an unknown young man coining up the road. She at once became silent. + +"What is it?" demanded Sophie, presently. + +"Some man--a new one--a gentleman--awfully big!" reported Cornelia, in +detached sentences, with a look between each one. + +"As big as Bill Reynolds?" asked Sophie, with a twinkle in her face. + +"How absurd, Sophie! Bill Reynolds, indeed! He isn't up to this man's +shoulder. Besides, this is a gentleman, and--oh!" exclaimed Cornelia, +breaking off suddenly, and drawing back a step from the window. + +"Has the gentleman had an accident?" inquired Sophie, still twinkling. + +"He's stopped here--speaking to somebody--father, I believe; he's +coming in--there! do you hear?" cried Cornelia, turning round with large +eyes and her finger at her mouth, and speaking in a thrilling whisper. +The sound of the quick, irregular tread of Mr. Bressant, following the +professor into the study, was audible from below. + +"Who can he be?" resumed she presently, as Sophie said nothing. + +"If he's a gentleman, we don't need to know any more, do we?" replied +her sister, from behind her sewing. + +"Well, he is one," rejoined Cornelia, uncertain whether she was being +made fun of or not. "He was dressed like one; not _bandboxy_, you know, +but nicely and easily; and he stands and moves well; and then his +face--" + +"Is he handsome?" asked Sophie, as Cornelia paused. + +"Oh! he has that refined look--I can't describe it--better than +handsome," said she, giving a little wave with her hand to carry out her +meaning. + +"It's lucky he was so big," remarked Sophie, very innocently, "or you +might not have been able to see so much of him in such a little time." + +"Sophie!" said Cornelia, after a silence of some moments, speaking with +tragic deliberation, "you're making fun of me; I think you're very +unkind. I don't see what there is to laugh at in what I said; and if +there was any thing, I think _you_ might not laugh." + +"O Neelie--dear Neelie!" exclaimed Sophie, coloring with regret and +shame; "I didn't think you'd mind it; it was only my foolishness. Don't +think I meant to be unkind to you, dear. I wish the man had never come +here, whoever he is, if he is to come between us in any way. Won't you +forgive me, darling?" and she held out her hand to Cornelia with a +wistful, beseeching look in her eyes that thawed her sister's resentment +immediately, and after a very brief struggle to preserve her dignity, +she subsided with her face upon the pillow beside her sister's. + +"We won't ever quarrel or any thing again, will we, Sophie?" said she, +after a while. + +"Never about that gentleman, at all events!" answered Sophie; and then +they both laughed and kissed each other to seal the bargain. + +Once, long afterward, Cornelia remembered that kiss, and the words that +had accompanied it; and pondered over the bitter significance with which +the simple act and playful agreement had become fraught. + +But now, the subject was soon forgotten, and they fell to talking about +the dresses once more; nor was the topic by any means exhausted when +they were interrupted by the professor's voice calling to them from +below. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A BUSINESS TRANSACTION. + + +Professor Valeyon led the way to the study, stood his cane in the +corner, and placed a chair for his guest, in silence. "Just like his +father!" said he to himself, as he repaired to the mantel-piece for his +pipe; "not a bit of his mother about him. Who'd have thought so sickly a +baby as they said he was, would have grown into such a giant?--Smoke?" +he added, aloud. + +"You must talk loud to me--I'm deaf," said the young man, with his hand +to his ear. + +"Pleasant thing in a pupil, that!" muttered the old gentleman, as he +filled his pipe and lit it. "How it reminds one of his father--that +bright questioning look, when he leans forward! One might know who he +was by that and nothing else!" He sat down in his chair, and ruminated a +moment. + +"Hardly expected you up here so soon after your loss," observed he, in +as kindly a tone and manner as was comportable with speaking in a very +loud key. + +"Loss! I've had no loss!" returned Bressant, with a look of perplexity. +"Oh! you mean my father!" he exclaimed, suddenly, throwing his head back +with a half-smile. He very seldom laughed aloud. "There was nothing to +do. The funeral was the day before yesterday. I did all the business +before then. Yesterday I packed up, and here I am!" + +"Death couldn't have been unexpected, I presume?" said the professor, +on whom Bressant's manner made an impression of resignation to his loss +rather too complete. + +"The hour of death can only be a matter of guess-work at any time," +returned the young man. "My father had been expecting to die for some +months past; but he'd been mistaken once or twice before, and I thought +he might be this time. But he happened to guess right." + +"Filial way of talking, that," thought Professor Valeyon, rather taken +aback. "Didn't get that from his father; he was soft spoken enough, in +all conscience! Queer now, this matter of resemblance! there's a certain +something in his style of speaking, and in the way he looks just after +he has spoken, that reminds me of Mrs. Margaret. Deaf people are all +something alike, though; and he's been with her a great deal, I suppose. +Well, well! as to the way he spoke about his father, what looked like +indifference may have been merely embarrassment, or an attempt to +disguise feeling; or perhaps it was but a deaf man's peculiarity. At all +events, it can do no harm to suppose so." + +"Were you with him during his last moments?" asked he. + +"Oh, yes! I saw him die," answered Bressant, nodding, and pulling his +close-cut brown beard. + +Professor Valeyon smoked for a while in silence, occasionally casting +puzzled and searching glances at the young man, who took up a book from +the table--it happened to be a volume of Celestial Mechanics--and began +to read it with great apparent interest. His face was an open and +certainly not unpleasant one; very mobile, however, and vivid in its +expressions; the eyebrows straight and delicate, and the eyes bright and +powerful. The forehead was undeniably fine, prominently and capaciously +developed. Nevertheless--and this was what puzzled the professor--there +was a very evident lack of something in the face, in no way interfering +with its intellectual aspect, but giving it, at times, an unnatural and +even uncanny look. In meeting the young man's eyes, the old gentleman +was ever and anon conscious of a disposition to recoil and shudder, and, +at the same time, felt impelled, by what resembled a magnetic +attraction, to gaze the harder. Did the very fact that some universal +human characteristic was omitted from this person's nature endow him +with an exceptional and peculiar power? There was an uncertainty, in +talking and associating with him, as to what he would do or say; an +ignorance of what might be his principles and points of view; an +impossibility of supposing him governed by common laws. Such, at least, +was the professor's fancy concerning him. + +But again, turning his eyes to his pipe, or out of the window, was it +not fancy altogether? Beyond that he was unusually tall and broad across +the shoulders, and of a very intelligent cast of features, what was +there or was there not in this young man different from any other? He +had the muffled irregular voice, and alert yet unimpressible manner, +peculiar to deafness. But was there any thing more? The professor took +another look at him. He was reading, and certainly there were no signs +of any thing strange in his appearance, more than that, at such a time, +he should be reading at all. It was when speaking of his father that +the uncanny expression had been especially noticeable. "Suppose," said +Professor Valeyon to himself, "we try him on another subject." + +"You've been educated at home, I understand," began he, from beneath his +heavy eyebrows. + +"Oh, yes!" replied Bressant, shutting his book on his knee, and +returning the professor's look with one of exceeding keenness and +comprehensiveness. "Educated to develop faculties of body and mind, not +according to the ordinary school and college system." He drew himself +up, with an air of such marvelous intellectual and physical efficiency, +that it seemed to the professor as if each one of his five senses might +equal the whole capacity of a common man. And then it occurred to him +that he remembered, many years ago, having heard some one mention a +theory of education which aimed rather to give the man power in whatever +direction he chose to exercise it, than to store his mind with greater +or less quantities of particular forms of knowledge. The only faculty to +be left uncultivated, according to this theory, was that of human +love--this being considered destructive, or, at least, greatly +prejudicial, to progress and efficiency in any other direction. The +professor could not at the moment recall who it was had evolved this +scheme, but it became involuntarily connected in his mind with +Bressant's peculiarities. + +"According to the letter I received to-day, you come here to be trained +to the ministry," resumed he. "Has all your previous education had this +in view?" + +"The education would have been the same, understand, whatever the end +was to be," explained the young man, with a shrewd smile in his sharp +eyes. "I am as well prepared to study theology as if I had been aiming +at it all my life; but I might take up engineering or medicine as well +as that. About a year ago, I decided to become a minister." + +"And what led you to do that?" demanded the old gentleman, with rather a +stern frown. He did not like the idea of approaching religion in other +than a reverent and self-searching attitude. + +"My father first suggested it," replied Bressant, on whom the frown +produced no sort of impression. "At the time, it surprised me, +especially from him. Afterward, I concluded I could not do better. No +one has such a chance to move the world as a minister. I thought of +Christ, and Paul, and Luther, and many before and since. They were all +ministers, and who had greater power? I felt I had the ability, and I +decided that it was as a minister I could best use it." + +"But what are you going to use it for?" questioned the professor, +settling his spectacles on his nose, and leaning across the table in his +earnestness. + +"The men I have mentioned used theirs to invent, or confirm, or +overthrow, religious sects, and perhaps they couldn't have done better +in their age. Their names are as well known now as ever, and that's the +best test. But I hope I may discover a better method. I shall have the +advantage of their experience and mistakes. Perhaps I shall develop and +carry out to its conclusion the dogma of Christianity. That would be +well as a beginning." + +"Very well, that's certain!" assented the professor, dryly. "It's all I +shall be able to give you any assistance in, too, so we needn't discuss +what the next step will be. By-the-way, did you ever hear of doing any +thing for the glory of God, and for the love of your fellow-men?" + +"Oh, yes! they're pass-words of the profession, and have their use," +returned Bressant, with another of his keen smiles. "If you want to +climb above the world, the rounds in your ladder must be made of common +woods that everybody knows the names of. The Bible is full of such, and +some of them are works of genius in themselves. After all, it is the +people who must immortalize us, and we must feed them with what they are +in the habit of eating." + +"What induced you to come here, sir?" asked the professor, abruptly. + +"I never should have come of myself," answered the young man, with +entire frankness. "I never heard your name mentioned until less than a +year ago. It was the first time my father was expecting to die. He told +me you were a wise man, and learned besides; he had known you when you +were young; you would have some interest in teaching me; he would feel +more at ease to die, if he knew you were directing me. I thought it +over, as I said, and decided to come. Understand, I knew of no one +except you, and I didn't want to go to a theological school." + +"Humph!" grunted the professor, who was by no means well satisfied with +the prospect, yet had reasons of his own for taking up the matter if +possible. He smoked for a while longer, and Bressant resumed his book. + +"By-the-way, about this _incognito_ of yours," said the former at +length, laying aside his pipe, and taking off his straw hat: he had +forgotten to remove it on entering, and it had been oppressing him with +a sense of vague inconvenience ever since. "What is the meaning of it? +Do you mean to keep it strict? Is the idea you own?" + +"Oh, no! I heard nothing of it till after my father was dead. It was +Mrs. Vanderplanck--she who wrote you the letter--who first spoke to me +of it, and said he had desired it. I don't know what the necessity of it +is, but it must be kept a strict secret. Should any one besides you know +who I am, I stand in danger of losing my fortune." + +"Ah, ha! lose your fortune!" exclaimed the professor, frowning so +portentously as to unseat his spectacles. "How does that happen, sir?" + +Bressant looked considerably amused at the old gentleman's evident +emotion; the more as he saw no occasion for it. "I never had the +curiosity to ask how," said he, pulling at his beard. "I shall run no +risks with my fortune. I'm satisfied to know there might be danger; +there's no difficulty in keeping silence about a name." + +Professor Valeyon rose from his chair and walked to the window. A mighty +host of gray clouds, piled thickly one upon another, and torn and +tunneled by feverish wind-gusts, were hastening swiftly and silently +across the sky from the west. Beyond, where they were thickest and +angriest, a yellowish, lurid tint was reflected against them. The valley +darkened like a frowning face, and the summits of the western hills +were blotted out of sight. A lightning-flash shivered brightly through +the air, and then came the first growling, leaping, accumulating peal of +thunder. A sudden, rustling breath swept through the garden, and, +following it, in big, quick drops, and soon in an unintermittent +myriad-footed tramp, the rustling, perpendicular down-pelting of the +rain. + +In less than a minute, a gray, wet veil had been drawn across the +farther side of the valley, hiding it from the professor's sight. Even +the outer limits of the garden grew indistinct. The leaves of the trees +bobbed ceaselessly up and down, and glistened and dripped; the shrubs +and flowers seemed to lift themselves higher from the earth, and stretch +out their green fingers to the plenteous shower. The tinkle of the +fountain was quite obliterated, and the ordinarily smooth surface of the +basin sprang upward in thousands of tiny pyramids, as if madly welcoming +the impact of the rain-drops. Small cataracts tore in desperate haste +down the slope of the garden-paths, laying bare in their pigmy fury the +lower strata of rough gravel and pebbles. Upon the roof of the balcony +was maintained an evenly sonorous monotone of drubbing, as if +innumerable fairy carpenters were nailing on the shingles. The invalid +water-spout had a hard time of it; it was racked, shaken, and bullied, +and continually choked itself with the volubility of its fluent +utterances, which were instantly swallowed up in the bottomless depths +of the waste-barrel. A strong, cool, earthy odor rose from the garden, +and was wafted past the professor's nostrils, and into the heated house. +The moist brown flower-beds exhaled a fragrant thankfulness, and the +grass-blades looked twice as green and twice as tall as before. +Meanwhile the heavy, regular pulse of the thunder had been beating +intermittently overhead, and bounding ponderously from hill-side to +hill-side; and ever and anon the lightning had showed startlingly in +dazzling zigzags through the omnipresent shadow. But now it seemed that +there was a little less weight in the fall, and gloom in the air. The +pervading freshness of the breeze made itself more unmistakably +perceptible. The west began to lighten, and the rain and darkness +drifted to the east. As for Professor Valeyon, if his thoughts had been +in a tumult, like the elements, might they not become quiet again also? + +"After all," said the old gentleman to himself, "it's not the young +fellow's fault. If his father was a heartless scoundrel, it doesn't +follow that he knows it. Well, the man is dead--it can't be helped now, +that's certain. But what a cunningly-contrived plot it is! Shuts my +mouth by confiding to me the _incognito_ and sending me the son to +educate; destroys the last hope of setting an old wrong right; takes +advantage, for base ends, of the deepest feelings of human hearts: not +to speak of preventing the young man himself from being party to a noble +and generous action. Did ever man carry such a load down to the grave! + +"Suppose Margaret--no! it isn't likely she would know any thing about +it. He wasn't the man to make confidants of women. She gave the message +to the son, not knowing what it meant, probably. Why, he wouldn't have +dared to tell her! And then inviting Cornelia--no, no! I've had some +acquaintance with Margaret, and, with all her nonsense, I believe she's +honest. Besides, what interest could she have to be otherwise? To be +sure, she didn't give me the true reason for the _incognito_; but that's +nothing; she's just the woman to tell a useless fib, and reserve the +truth for important occasions only--or what she thinks such." + +The professor remained a while longer at the window, abstractedly +staring at the drops which hastened after one another from the wet +eaves. Suddenly he turned around, and walked up to the table, flapping +his slipper-heels, and settling his spectacles, as he went. + +"Did any one ever speak to you of your mother, sir?" demanded he in the +ear of the reading Bressant. "Confound the fellow!" passed at the same +time through his mind; "does he think I'm a chair or a table?" + +"My mother?" repeated the young man, looking up, and appearing somewhat +surprised at the idea of his ever having possessed the article. "Oh, +yes! my father once told me she was dead. It was long ago. I'd almost +forgotten it." + +"Told you she was dead, hey? Humph! just what I expected!" growled the +old gentleman, who seemed, however, to become additionally wrathful at +the intelligence. After a moment's scowl straight at his would-be pupil, +he shuffled up to his chair, and sat solidly down in it. Bressant (to +whom the professor had probably appeared to the full as peculiar as he +to the professor), seeing signs of an approach to business in his action +and attitude, tossed his book on the table, leaned forward with his +elbows on his knees, and fixed his eyes directly upon the old +gentleman's glasses. + +"You seem to be in the habit of speaking your own mind freely, sir," +observed the latter; "and I shall do the same, on this occasion at least +I'm going to accept you as a pupil, and shall do my best for you; but +you must understand it's by no means on your own account I do it. As far +as I have seen them, I don't like your principles, your beliefs, or your +nature. You're the last man I should pick out for a minister, or for any +other responsible position. In every respect, except intelligence and an +unlimited confidence in yourself, you seem to me unfit to be trusted. In +training you for the ministry, I shall do it with the hope--not the +expectation--of instilling into you some true and useful ideas and +elevated thoughts. If I succeed, I shall have done the work of a whole +churchful of missionaries. If I fail, I shan't recommend you to be +ordained. And never forget that you will be indebted for all this to +some one you've never known, and who, I am at present happy to say, +don't know you. Whether or not you'll ever become acquainted is known to +God alone, and I'm very glad that the matter lies entirely in His hands. +Now, sir, what have you to say?" + +Bressant, who had been looking steadily and curiously at the professor +during the whole of this long speech, now passed his hand from his +forehead down over his face and beard--a common trick of his--smiled +meditatively, and said: + +"I'm glad you agree to take me. I don't care for your recommendation if +I have your instruction. Shall we begin to-morrow?" + +There followed a discussion relative to hours, methods, and materials, +which lasted very nearly until tea-time. Then, as there was still some +rain falling, the professor extended to his pupil an invitation to +supper, on his accepting which the old gentleman shuffled out into the +entry, and called to Cornelia to come down and make the necessary +preparations. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE. + + +Supper was ready: Cornelia surveyed the table for the last time, to make +sure it was all right. It was an extension-table, but the spare leaves +had been removed, and it was reduced to a circle. A mellow western light +from that portion of the sky unswathed in clouds streamed through the +window, and did duty as a lamp. The cloth was white, and tapered down in +soft folds at the corners; a pleasant profusion of sparkling china and +silver, and of savory eatables, filled the circumference of the board, +leaving just space enough to operate in, and no more. In the centre of +the table, and perceptible both to eyes and nose on entering the room, +was a tall glass dish, lined with wet green leaves, and pyramided with +red strawberries. A comfortable steam ascended from the nose of the +tea-pot, and vanished upward in the gloom of the ceiling; the brown +toast seemed crackling to be eaten; the smooth-cut slices of marbled +beef lay overlapping one another in silent plenteousness; and the knives +and forks glistened to begin. Cornelia opened the entry-door, and called +across to her papa in the study that supper was ready. Then she took up +her position behind her chair, with one hand resting on its back, and a +silent determination that the visitor, whoever he was, should be +impressed with her dignity, condescension, and good looks. + +"This is my daughter Cornelia. Mr. Bressant is going to be a pupil of +mine, my dear," said the professor, as he and Bressant advanced into the +room. + +He gave his hand an introductory wave in Cornelia's direction as he +spoke, but probably did not speak loud enough to be distinctly beard by +his guest. Nevertheless, seeing the motion and the lady, Bressant +inclined forward his shoulders with an elastic readiness of bearing +which was customary with him, in spite of his unusual stature, and then +took his place at the table without bestowing any further attention upon +her. It passed through Cornelia's mind, as she lifted the tea-pot, that +Mr. Bressant was outrageously conceited, and should be taken down at the +first opportunity. She had made a very graceful courtesy, and it was not +to be overlooked in that way with impunity. + +"Milk and sugar, sir?" said she, interrogatively, raising her eyes to +the young man's face with a somewhat gratuitous formality of manner, and +holding a piece of sugar suspended over the cup. + +Bressant had certainly been looking in her direction as she spoke; he +had the opposite place to her at table; but instead of replying, even +with a motion of the head, he, after a moment, turned to Professor +Valeyon, who was gently oscillating himself in the rocking-chair he +always occupied at meals, and asked him whether he knew any thing about +a place in town called "Abbie's Boarding-house." + +Cornelia laid down the sugar and tongs, and looked very insulted and +flushed. What sort of a creature was this her papa had brought to his +supper-table? Papa, who had noticed the awkward turn, and was tickled by +the humor thereof, could not forbear to give evidence of amusement, +insomuch that his daughter, who was by no means of a lymphatic +temperament, was almost ready to leave the table, or burst into tears +with injured and astonished dignity. + +Bressant, with that exceeding quickness of perception which most persons +with his infirmity possess under such circumstances, transferred his +glance from the professor to the young lady, and at once arrived at a +pretty correct understanding of the difficulty. He was not embarrassed, +for it had probably never occurred to him that his deafness was so much +a defect as a difference of organization, and he lost no time in +explaining matters in his customary way. + +"I'm deaf; when you talk to me you must speak loud," said he, looking +full at Cornelia's disturbed face. + +Miss Valeyon had never been so thoroughly discomfited. She was smitten +on three sides at once. Bad enough to be insulted; worse, having become +properly angry, to find no insult was meant; and, worst of all, to have +been the means of drawing attention, by her bad temper, to a physical +infirmity in her papa's guest. She abandoned upon the instant all +intention of being ceremonious and imposing, and only thought how she +might atone, to her papa and to Bressant, for her ill-behavior. + +He would not take tea--nothing but water; and, as Cornelia proceeded in +silence to pour out her papa's cup, the latter answered Bressant's +question about the boarding-house. + +"Know it very well, sir. Very good house. What have you heard about it?" + +"Nothing more than that; I asked a man at the depot. My trunk has been +taken there. I'm satisfied if the woman 'Abbie' is respectable, and +gives me enough to eat." The young man had accepted Cornelia's tender of +a slice of beef, and seemed fully equal to doing it again. + +"The 'woman Abbie' respectable, sir!" exclaimed the professor in +half-muzzled ire; but he checked himself suddenly, and tried to be +contented with shoving his plate, tumbler, and tea-cup, to and fro +before him. "I could not have recommended you to a better person," he +added presently, evidently putting a restraint upon himself. "I have the +highest--I hold her in very high estimation, sir." + +Bressant nodded, and presently took some more of the beef. + +"Have you seen Abbie yet, Mr. Bressant?" inquired Cornelia in a timid +tone, which, however, was deprived of all melody by the effort to suit +it to the young man's ears. But it was necessary to say something. + +"Oh, no!" he replied, smiling at her in the pure good-nature of physical +complacency, and noticing for the first time that she was an agreeable +spectacle. He judged absolutely and primitively, never having had that +experience of women which might have enabled him to make comparison the +base of his opinion. "I came right up here from the depot. My trunk was +sent to the boarding-house; it will hire a room for me, I suppose." + +At this sally, Cornelia smiled very graciously, though ten minutes +before she would have snubbed it promptly. She had had some experience +with the young men of the village--easy victims--and had acquired a +rather good opinion of her satirical powers. But Bressant was a peculiar +case; his deafness enlisted her compassion and forbearance, and her own +late rudeness made her gentle. Perhaps the young gentleman was not so +far out of the way in failing to consider his infirmity a disadvantage. + +Meanwhile, Professor Valeyon was swinging backward and forward, ever and +anon pausing to take a bite or a sup, and eying the stem of the +strawberry-dish, in deepest contemplation. Cornelia, who from a +combination of causes, felt more embarrassed than ever in her +remembrance, devoutly wished that he would rouse himself, and make some +conversation. She did all she could, in the way of supplying the guest +with eatables, and making little remarks upon them, to fill up awkward +pauses; but she was conscious she was being stupid; and even when she +thought of a good thing to say, the reflection that it must needs be +shouted aloud made her pause until the available moment had gone by. It +was some relief that Bressant ate well, and seemed in no way shy or cast +down himself. There was a freshness and vivacity in his enjoyment of his +supper which was pleasing to Cornelia for several reasons: it was +evidently very far from being affected, was consequently indirectly +complimentary to her, and showed a certain boyishness in him which +contrasted very agreeably, or, as Cornelia would have said, "cunningly," +with his mature and intellectual aspect. In fact, Bressant was in a +particularly happy mood. The cool air and pleasant room, and the +gratification of a healthy appetite, caused his senses to expand, and, +as it were, sun themselves. Cornelia's beauty could not have been +presented under more favorable auspices, especially as woman's +loveliness had heretofore been an unturned page in the young man's life. +True, it pleased him in the same way as, and probably not to a greater +degree than, would the symmetrical elegance of a vase, or the tinted +beauty of a flower; but he had not yet known the limitless additional +charm given by life, variety, and emotion. Would he ever know it? or was +he so profoundly ignorant of the matter as to run in danger of finding +it out unexpectedly, and perhaps too late? + +The strawberry pyramid sank and disappeared. Cornelia began anxiously to +wonder what was to be done now. Bressant sat enjoying his sensations, +and Professor Valeyon, who appeared to have arrived at some definite +conclusion after his meditations, rolled up his napkin and shoved it +into the ring, previous to setting it down with that peculiar tap which +announced that the meal was over. + +On leaving the table, Bressant sauntered out of the room and on to the +balcony, with a disregard of what other people might intend, which +caused Cornelia to recollect her first impression of him. Nevertheless, +not knowing what else she could do, she followed, and found him leaning +over the railing, and looking about him with serene enjoyment. The +clouds had been mostly dispersed; a fresh air moved in the damp garden; +and Cornelia was soon aware that the mosquitoes were abroad. Her +muslin-covered arms and shoulders began to suffer. + +Bressant raised himself at her approach, and stood with one hand +against the railing, looking down upon her with a half-smile of interest +and satisfaction, which made Cornelia feel not so much like a human +being, as some rare natural curiosity which he was glad to have the +opportunity of examining. + +"You are one of the daughters?" said he, with the sudden scrutinizing +contraction of the eyebrows that often accompanied his questions. "There +are two, aren't there? Which one are you?" + +"I'm Cornelia," replied she, provoked, as the words left her mouth, that +she had not said "Miss Valeyon." But the question had surprised her out +of her presence of mind, and the necessity of speaking loud, if nothing +else, hindered her from making the correction. + +"Is the other any thing like you?" resumed he, after a moment's more +contemplation, which, spite of its directness, had in it a certain +element of unsophisticatedness that prevented it from seeming rude. + +"Who, Sophie?" exclaimed the young lady, bursting forth into an +unexpected gurgle of laughter, to which Bressant at once responded in +kind, though having no idea what the merriment was about. "I wish you +could see her! There couldn't be a greater difference if I was a negro!" + +The laugh died away in Bressant's eyes, and he pressed his hand rapidly +down over his face, as if to sharpen his wits, or clear away cobwebs. + +"That's natural," he remarked, reflectively. "I never saw any thing like +you." + +"If he'd said 'any _body_,'" thought Cornelia, "I should have said he +meant to compliment. How funny he is! just like a boy in some ways. I +believe I know more than he does, after all!" + +"Have you any sisters, Mr. Bressant?" asked she aloud, looking up at him +with more cordiality and confidence than she had yet felt or shown. + +"Not any. I should think it would be a good thing. Do you like it?" + +"Of course; but then I am a sister myself, so it don't apply," said +Cornelia, with the sunshine of another laugh. It was delightful to look +at her at such times; every part of her partook of the merriment, so +that her hands, feet, and waist, might all be said to laugh for +themselves. Cornelia could express a great deal more in a bodily than in +a spiritual way. Her material self, indeed, seemed so completely and +bounteously endowed as to leave little place or occasion for a soul. The +warm, rounded, fragrant, wholesome personality which met the eye, +satisfied it; the harmonious tumult of life, that thrilled in every +movement, was contentment to the other perceptions; the thought of a +soul, bringing with it that other of death, was cold and inconsistent. +Such mortal perfection loses its full effect, unless we can look upon it +as physically immortal: as soon as we begin to refine our ideas into the +abstract, we sully our enjoyment. + +"But your mother must have given you some idea of what a sister would +be," continued Cornelia, presently. + +"Would she? I wish I had one!" said the young man, unconscious that no +such desire had ever entered his head till now, and yet at a loss to +account for its presence. "Mine died more than twenty years ago," he +explained. + +"The poor boy! I believe he don't know what a woman is!" murmured +Cornelia to herself, perhaps not displeased at the reflection that it +lay with her to enlighten him. "No wonder he looked at me as if I were a +mammoth squash, or something. I'm going down in the garden to pluck a +tea-rose bud," added she aloud. "Won't you come?" + +"Yes," said Bressant, following her down the glistening granite steps +with an air of half-puzzled admiration. He liked his new sensations very +much, but knew not what to make of them; and so had a sense of +adventurous uncertainty, which was perhaps a pleasure in itself. + +Cornelia walked down the path in front of him, picking her dainty steps +to avoid stray spears of grass or weeds, and gathering up her light +skirts in one hand, out of the way of the bushes which leaned lovingly +forward to drop a tear upon her. At length she reached the tea-rose +bush, and paused there. Bressant came up and stood beside her. + +It was just dark enough to make the difference between a perfect and an +imperfect bud a matter of some doubt. Cornelia peeped cautiously about, +putting aside the wet twigs gingerly, and lifting up one flower after +another; desisting every once in a while to slap at the fine sting of a +mosquito on her arms or neck. + +"Oh! there's one that looks nice!" exclaimed she, disposing her drapery +to reach across the bush for a distant bud which looked in every respect +satisfactory. But Bressant saw it, and plucked it without effort, +drawing blood from his finger as he did so, however. He smelt it, and +looked from it to Cornelia, apparently trying to identify an idea. + +"Aren't you going to give me my bud?" demanded Miss Valeyon. "What's the +matter, sir?" + +"In some way it reminds me of you," replied he, giving it to her with a +shake of the head. "I don't see how, but it does!" + +Cornelia gave him a sharp side-look, to make out if he was sincere; but +his face at the moment was in shadow. + +"Perhaps because it pricked your finger," said she. + +She had not spoken loud, and was almost startled when his reply showed +he had heard her. There was again that expression of marvellous +efficiency and power in his face and bearing, but combined with one +partly doubt and partly shrewd scrutiny. + +"I plucked the bud all the same," he remarked. Cornelia, for some +reason, felt a little provoked and a little frightened. He wasn't +entirely unsophisticated after all; and she felt quite uncertain where +the ignorance ended and the knowledge began. She put the bud in her +hair, and they walked on, Bressant being now at her side, instead of +behind. The path was hardly wide enough for two, and now and then she +felt her shoulder touch his arm. Every time this happened, she fancied +her companion gave a kind of involuntary start, and looked around at her +with a quick, inquiring expression--fancied, for she did not meet his +look, being herself conscious of a sort of irregularity of the breath +and pulse attending these contacts, which she could not understand, and +did not feel altogether at ease about. Certainly, there was something +odd in this Bressant! Cornelia hardly knew whether he strongly repelled +or powerfully attracted her. She had half a mind to run back to the +house. + +At this moment, however, they arrived at the fountain, and stood +silently contemplating its weak, persistent struggles. The heavy rain +had not raised its spirits a whit; but neither had it lessened its sense +of duty to be performed. It labored just as hard if not harder than +ever. + +Presently Bressant walked round to the opposite side of the basin, shook +himself and stamped his feet, like one overcoming a feeling of +drowsiness, and then, stooping down, put his hand in the water and +brought some up to his forehead. It passed through Cornelia's mind that +she had read in her "Natural Philosophy," at school, that water was a +good conductor of electricity, but she could not establish any clear +connection between her remembrance of this fact and Bressant's action. +The results of thoughts often present themselves to us when the +processes remain invisible. + +"What an absurd little fountain!" observed he, coming round again to +Cornelia, and looking down upon her with a smile that seemed to call for +a responsive one from her. "What is the use of it?" + +"Oh, we're used to it, you know; and then that little sound it makes is +pleasant to listen to." + +"Is it?" said Bressant, apparently struck by the idea. "I should like to +hear it. 'A pleasant sound!' I never thought of a sound being pleasant." + +"Poor fellow!" thought Cornelia again, with a strong impulse of +compassion and kindliness. "What a dreary life, not even to know that +sounds were beautiful! I suppose all the voices he hears must be harsh +and unnatural, and those are the only kinds of sounds he would attend +to." Looking at him from this new point of view, the feeling of mistrust +and uncertainty of a few minutes before was forgotten. Standing near the +margin of the basin was a rustic bench fantastically made of curved and +knotted branches, the back and arms contrived in rude scroll-work, and +the seat made of round transverse pieces, through whose interstices the +rain-water had passed, leaving it comparatively dry. Cornelia sat down +upon it and motioned Bressant to take his place by her side. As he did +so, she could not help a slight thrill of dismay. He was so very big, +and took up so much room! + +Bressant sat looking straight before him, and said nothing. Stealing a +side-glance at him, Cornelia was possessed by an absurd fancy that he +was alarmed at his position. The idea of being able to scare such a +giant excited the young lady's risibilities so powerfully that she could +not contain herself, but, to her great horror, broke suddenly forth into +a warbling ecstasy of laughter. Bressant looked around, in great +surprise. It was an occasion for presence of mind. Something must be +done at once. + +"Hush! hold perfectly still! It was so absurd to see you sitting there, +and not knowing! There--now--still!" _Spat!_ + +A mosquito, which, after considerable reconnoitring, had settled upon +Bressant's broad hand, had sacrificed its life to rescue Cornelia from +her dilemma. + +Bressant felt the soft, warm fingers strike smartly, and then begin to +remove, cautiously and slowly, because the mosquito was possibly not +dead after all. What was the matter with the young man? His blood and +senses seemed to quiver and tingle with a sensation at once delicious +and confusing. In the same instant, he had seized the soft, warm fingers +in both his hands, and pressed them convulsively and almost fiercely. +Cornelia very naturally cried out, and sprang to her feet. Bressant, it +would seem not so naturally, did the same thing, and with the air of +being to the full as much astonished and startled as she. + +"What do you mean, sir? how dare you--?" she said, paling after her +first deep flush. + +He looked at her, and then at his own hand, on which the accommodating +mosquito was artistically flattened, and then at her again, with a +slight, interrogative frown. + +"How did it happen? What was it? I didn't mean it!" + +Cornelia was quite at a loss what to do or say under such extraordinary +circumstances. She felt short of breath and indignant; but she had never +heard of a young man's questioning a lady as to how he had come to take +a liberty with her. As she stood thus confounded, her unfortunate +perception of the ludicrous betrayed her once more; but this time her +recent shock played a part in it, and came very near producing a bad fit +of hysterics. Bressant looked on without a word or a motion. + +In less than a minute, for Cornelia's nerves were very strong, and had +never been overtaxed, she had regained command of herself. Bressant was +standing between her and the house, and she pointed up the path. + +"Please go home as quickly as possible." + +Off he walked, with every symptom of readiness and relief. Cornelia +followed after, but, when she reached the house, she found her papa +staring inquiringly out of his study-door; the uncanny pupil in divinity +had disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT. + + +Bressant, to do him justice--for he was, on the whole, rather apt to be +polite than otherwise, in his way--entirely forgot the professor's +existence for the time being. He was too self-absorbed to think of other +people. He thought he was bewitched, and felt a strong and healthy +impulse to throw off the witchery before doing any thing else. He sprang +up the steps, across the balcony, traversed the hall with a quick tramp +that shook the house, snatched his hat from the old hat-tree, came down +upon the porch-step (which creaked in a paroxysm of reproach at his +unaccustomed weight), and, in another moment, stood outside the +Parsonage-gate, which, to save time, he had leaped, instead of opening. + +The road was white no longer, but brown and moist. The sky overhead was +deep purple, and full of stars. The air wafted about hither and thither +in little, cool, damp puffs, which were a luxury to inhale. Bressant +drew in two or three long lungfuls; then, setting his round straw hat +more firmly on his head, he leaned slightly forward, and launched +himself into a long, swinging run. + +To run gracefully and well is a rare accomplishment, for it demands a +particularly well-adjusted physical organization, great strength, and a +deep breath-reservoir. Bressant's body poised itself lightly between +the hips, and swayed slightly, but easily, from side to side at each +spring. The knees alternately caught the weight without swerving, and +shifted it, with an elastic toss, from one to the other. The feet came +down sharp and firm, and springily spurned the road in a rapid though +rhythmical succession. In a few moments, the turn around the spur of the +hill was reached, and the runner was well settled down to his pace. + +The stone-fences, the occasional apple-trees, the bushes and bits of +rock bordering the road, slipped by half seen. The full use of the eyes +was required for the path in front, rough as it was with loose stones, +and seamed with irregular ruts. Easy work enough, however, as long as it +remained level, and open to the starlight. But, some distance beyond, +there dipped a pretty abrupt slope, and here was need for care and +quickness. Sometimes a step fell short, or struck one side, to avoid a +stone, or lengthened out to overpass it. The whole body was thrown more +back, and the heels dug solidly into the earth, at each downward leap. +Here and there, where the incline was steeper, four or five foot-tramps +followed rapidly upon each other; and then, gathering himself up, with a +sudden, strong clutch, as it were, the young man continued on as before. +Thus the slope was left behind; and now began a low, long stretch, lying +between meadows, overshadowed by a bordering of willow-trees, and +studded with lengths of surreptitious puddles, for the ground was +clayey, and the rain was unabsorbed. As Bressant entered upon it, he +felt the cold moisture of the air meet his warm face refreshingly; he +was breathing deep and regularly, and now let himself out to a yet +swifter pace than before. + +The willow-trees started suddenly from the forward darkness, and +vanished past in a dusky twinkling. The road seemed drawn in swift, +smooth lines from beneath his feet, he moving as in a mighty treadmill. +The breeze softly smote his forehead, and whispered past his ears. Now +he rose lightly in the air over an unexpected puddle, striking the +farther side with feet together, and so on again. Twice or thrice, his +steps sounded hollowly over a plank bridging. At a distance, steadily +approaching, appeared the outlet, light against the dark willow setting. +When it was reached, ensued a rough acclivity, hard for knees and lungs, +winding upward for a considerable distance. Up the runner went, with +seemingly untired activity, and the stones and sand spurted from beneath +his ascending feet. The air became drier and warmer again as he mounted, +and the meadows slept beneath him in their clammy darkness. + +Near the brow of the hill stood a farm-house, black against the sky. +Bressant marked the light through the curtained window, dimly bringing +out a transverse strip of road; the pump standing over its trough with +uplifted arm and dangling cup; the rambling shed, with the wagon half +hidden beneath it; the barn, with blank windowless front, and shingled +roof. A dog barked sharply at him, as he echoed by, but inaudibly to +Bressant's ears. Presently a raised sidewalk divided off from the road, +affording a smoother course; the outlying houses of the village slipped +past one after another; a white picket-fence twittered indistinguishably +by. The runner was nearing the end of his journey, and now leaned a +little farther forward, and his feet fell in a quicker rhythm than ever. + +At the beginning of the village street stood the corner grocery; a +wooden awning in front, some men loafing at the door, who looked up as +the sound of Bressant's passing struck their ears; within, an indistinct +vision of barrels of produce, hams pendent from the dusky ceiling, some +brooms in a corner, and a big cheese upon the counter. Next succeeded +the series of adjoining shop-fronts, with their various windows, signs, +and styles; all wooden and clap-boarded, however, except the fire-engine +house, of red brick, with its wide central door and boarded slope to the +street. Bressant's steps echoed closely back from between the buildings; +once he clattered sharply over a stretch of brick sidewalk; once dodged +aside to avoid overrunning a dark-figured man. The village was left +behind; yonder stood the boarding-house, dimly white and irregular of +outline; he remembered it from the glimpse he had had in passing on his +way from the depot. In a few quick moments more he stood before the +door, glowing warm, from head to foot, drawing his deep breath easily, +his blood flowing in full, steady beats through heart and veins. He took +off his hat, passed his handkerchief over forehead and face, and then +pulled the tinkling door-bell. A fat Irish girl presently appeared, and +ushered him in with a stare and a grin, wiping her hands upon her apron. + +Meanwhile Cornelia, having said a few words to her father to excuse +Bressant's unceremonious departure--she refrained instinctively from +letting him know what had actually taken place--bade him good-night, and +went up-stairs with a more sober step than was her wont. She tapped at +Sophie's door, and stayed just long enough to make the necessary +arrangements for the night. Sophie, being drowsy, asked but few +questions, and received brief replies. When Cornelia reached her own +room, she closed the door with a feeling of relief. It had never been +her habit to fasten her door; but to-night, after advancing a few paces +into the chamber, she hesitated, turned back, and drew the bolt. Then, +having hastily pulled down the curtains, she seemed for the first time +to be free from a sensation of restraint. + +She walked up to the dressing-table, which was covered with a disorderly +medley of a young lady's toilet articles--comb and brush, a paper of +pins, ribbons, a brooch, little vase for rings, an open purse, a soiled +handkerchief--and began mechanically to undo her hair, and shake out the +braids. It was dark-brown hair, not soft and delicately fine like +Sophie's, but vigorous and crisp, each hair seeming to be distinct, and +yet harmonizing with the rest. As it was loosened and fell voluminously +spreading over her shoulders, she paused, resting against the table, and +looked at her face in the glass with critical earnestness. The candle, +standing at one side of the mirror, cast soft and deep shadows beneath +the darkly-defined eyebrows, and against the straight line of the nose, +and around the clear, short curves of the mouth and upper lip. The light +rested tenderly on her firm, oval cheeks, so deep-toned, yet pale, and +brought out an almost invisible dimple on each cheek-bone beneath the +eye, usually only to be distinguished when she laughed or smiled. The +forehead, so far as it could be seen beneath the hair, was smooth and +straight, neither high nor especially wide. The ears were small and +white, but rather too much cut away below to be in perfect proportion. +Over all seemed spread a mellow, rich, transparent, laughing medium, +that was better than beauty, and without which beauty would have seemed +cold and tame, or at least passionless. There was a delicate mystery in +the face, too, not conscious or self-woven, but of that impalpable and +involuntary sort which sometimes looks from the eyes of young unmarried +women, whose natures have developed sweetly and freely, without warping +or forcing. It has nothing to do with religion, nor with what we +commonly understand by spirit. It is not to be described or analyzed; +like the blue of heaven, it is the infinitely elusive property which is +the very secret and necessity of its existence. + +Cornelia looked searchingly at this face, and, though much of its +subtlest charm must necessarily have been lost upon her, she saw a great +deal that gave her pleasure. She had never been subjected to that +awakening but coarsening process which teaches a girl to call herself a +beauty; but there is a certain amount of instinctive perception, in +these matters, and she could not but know that what had virtue to +gratify her would not lack in effect over others. Nor was she in the +habit of taking stock of herself in the looking-glass; only to-night she +seemed to have an especial motive in making or renewing her own +acquaintance. + +At length she dropped her eyes, and, with nimble fingers and +swiftly-applied hair-pins, wound up her hair into its nocturnal knot. +She removed her ear-rings and rings, and put them into the vase; but +here reverie overtook her once more, and held her in a meditative +half-smile, until consciousness revived, and startled the blood into her +cheeks. She walked over to her little sofa, with dispatch and business +in her step, and sat down to unlace her boots. + +There is something in these little ever-recurring actions, +however--these things which we do so often as to do them +unconsciously--which predisposes to thought and reflection. Cornelia, +having untied the knot, had not got farther than the fourth hole from +the top, her eyes meanwhile wandering slowly around the picturesque but +rather disorderly little room, before she became dreamily interested in +watching the shadow of a neck-scarf she had hung upon the support of the +looking-glass, projected upon the wall by the flickering light of the +candle. As she looked, her fingers began to labor upon the boot-lace, +and her eyes grew gradually larger and darker. Occasionally there were +little quiverings of the upper and under lids, barely perceptible +movements of the tip of the nose and the nostrils, and twitching at the +mouth-corners. By-and-by the twitchings resolved themselves into a +smile, very faint and far away at first, but broadening and brightening +every moment; now, the dimples were visible at half a glance, and now, +upon the still air of the chamber, there rippled forth-- + +Cornelia put her hand to her mouth, and gave a quick, furtive glance +over her shoulder, as if in fear lest some one might have overheard her. +She recollected with some relief that the door was locked at any rate, +and the curtains down. But, for all that, as she realized what she had +been thinking about, and how very far her papa or Sophie would be from +laughing if they were told about it, she felt her cheeks tingle, and +could not be busy enough with that boot-lace! + +There! that was off; now for the other. What a queer man he was, though! +Could all that have been put on in the garden--pretending he didn't +know! (This was such a tiresome old knot!) If she only hadn't been such +a goose and laughed--what must he think? What could have been the reason +he rushed off in such a hurry? Probably was afraid she'd tell papa, and +then he couldn't be his pupil. Suppose she should tell! that would be +mean, though. Perhaps he didn't intend it, after all. He seemed nice in +some ways, though he was so queer. Very likely it was only a sort of +spasm--an electric, magnetic thing--she had heard of something of the +sort. Yes, and she had felt funny herself that evening--a numb, quivery, +prickly kind of sensation: it may have been the thunder-storm! It was +strange, though; she never remembered to have felt it before. She +wondered whether Mr. Bressant ever had. Perhaps deaf people were more +subject to it. What a pity he should be deaf! It made it so awfully +embarrassing to talk to him sometimes. It must be dreadful for them to +be in love with anybody. Imagine having to talk in that way to a deaf +person! or being-- + +This time it was the candle which took upon itself the task of warning +and censorship. It flickered, flared, gasped, and went out. It was a +very pathetic, and, it is to be hoped, effective way of remonstrance. +But the last thing seen of Cornelia, she was sitting on the sofa, +leaning carelessly forward, one hand holding her curved, little, booted +foot, the knot still untied, her eyes fixed dreamily on nothing, the +half-smile flickering on her lips, and the womanly contours of her +figure doubtfully lighted and darkly shaded by the uncertain +candle-light. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL. + + +The morning following Bressant's arrival was clear and cool. Professor +Valeyon looked out of the window of his bedroom, which was at the +garden-end of the house, and opposite Cornelia's, and saw the cold, +white mists lying in the valley, and the rough hills, like islands, +lifting their dark shoulders above it. + +As he looked, the sun, having climbed a few inches above the eastern +uplands, let a bright glance fall right upon the open spot at the summit +of the professor's favorite hill. A few minutes afterward he poured a +golden flood into the valley, carrying consternation to the delaying +vapors, insomuch that they straightway put themselves into commotion +preparatory to departure. No spare time was allowed them; some were +bundled off into the dark gullies and passes of the hills; others betook +themselves hastily to that side of the valley which was yet in shadow, +to sleep a few moments beyond the legitimate time; others still, finding +escape impossible, rose heavenward like a mighty incense, and were by +the sun converted into something wellnigh as glorious as himself. + +"Good simile for a sermon, that! turning persecution into a means of +glorification!" thought the professor, recurring to the days of his +pastorship. + +As may be inferred, the old gentleman was in the habit of getting up +early; a praiseworthy practice, but one so universal with elderly people +as to suggest a doubt of its being entirely a voluntary virtue. Be that +as it may, the professor was up, and proceeded to set his blood in +motion over a wash-bowl. His toilet was not so intricate and serious a +matter as it might have been forty years or so previous, but was +nevertheless a duty most scrupulously and conscientiously performed, +from June to December, and round again. The last thing attended to +before putting on his coat was always carefully to brush and dispose his +hair. Until within two or three years, he had been able to keep up +appearances by coaxing a gray rift across the top of the bald place; but +it had grown month by month thinner and grayer, and more difficult to +keep in position, until at last he had bravely told himself it was a +vanity and a delusion, and had consigned it to obscurity and oblivion +among the rusty side-locks which still sturdily surrounded the naked and +inaccessible summit. Since that time he had occasionally allowed his +thoughts to revert to it regretfully, though not bitterly nor +rebelliously. + +But, on this particular morning, he stood, brush in hand, before his +looking-glass with an expression upon his elderly features at once +undecided, wistful, and shame-faced; detached, after a short search, a +few frosty spears from the assortment at the left side of his head; +scrutinized them anxiously for a moment, and then, by the aid of a +little water, and cautious brushing and pulling, succeeded in spatting +them down into their long-abandoned place. + +"I'm an old fool, that's certain!" muttered he, as, after a final +surreptitious sort of glance at the unaccustomed embellishment, he +turned away. "But then I don't go out calling every day!" + +He slipped on his coat, opened his door, and descended the stairs with +his usual solid deliberation. As he emerged upon the balcony, the +sunshine had just lighted up the tree-tops in the garden, but a little +nest of white mist still rested upon the fountain, whose indefatigably +small gabble could be heard proceeding mysteriously from the centre +thereof. A few large, thin mosquitoes, cold and portentously hungry from +their all-night's fast, came swooping at the professor with shrieks of +dismal tenuity, intending to get a warm breakfast out of him. But he had +had large experience in dealing with such gentry, and, so far from +standing treat, he slew several and threw the rest into confusion. + +"And now," said he to himself, as he descended the steps, "I'll take a +look at Dolly; Michael hasn't let out Lady Bountiful or the hens yet, I +suspect." + +The barn lay in a separate enclosure to the west of the garden; it was a +primitive structure enough, but had been refitted within so as to afford +accommodation for the family steed and the cow. The former, Dolly, was a +well-preserved bay, neatly put together, and, had the professor been so +inclined, she might have become a celebrity in her day. As it was, she +had seen no more stirring duty than to convey her owner to and from +church, during the years of his ministrations there; to draw the plow +and the hay-cart occasionally, and to gallop over the rough country +roads beneath the side-saddle, for the benefit of Cornelia or Sophie. +She was at this time about fifteen years old, but still retained much +of the spirit of her best days, and not unfrequently gave the professor +some pains to keep her within bounds. + +He threw open the barn-door, and forth upon the crisp air floated the +close, sweet smell of hay and cow's breath. Some swallows twittered and +glanced up near the dark roof, as smart and wide-awake as if they had +not just been startled out of bed. The sun, shining through the cracks +and knot-holes into the dusky interior, drew lines of dusty light across +the darkness. A hen, that had escaped from the coop and got up into the +hay-loft to lay an egg, set up a strongly-remonstrative cackle against +being disturbed in so interesting a proceeding. Lady Bountiful lowed +argumentatively, and Dolly stamped, wagged her head knowingly up and +down, and then shook it with a whinny. The professor patted her neck and +smoothed down her nose. + +"Need some exercise, don't you, old girl?" quoth he, looking pleasantly +upon her. "All right! we'll go down-town after breakfast. Yes! we'll +make a call on Abbie." So saying, he pulled down some fresh hay, and +left her to champ it; then, picking his way across the uneven floor to +where the white and horned countenance of Lady Bountiful was thrust +through the bars of her stall, he slipped her halter and let her out +into the meadow. Having examined the wagon, to make sure it was in +proper order, he concluded his labors by throwing open the hen-coop, out +of which immediately hastened a troop of indignant and astonished fowls, +led by a rooster, who seemed always to be vacillating between +insufferable masculine arrogance and an effeminate curiosity and +avarice. + +By the time Professor Valeyon had remounted the granite steps, he was +quite ready to do justice to his breakfast. Cornelia came singing +down-stairs, with a full-blown tea-rose in her hair, and looking as if +she had already breakfasted upon the greater part of the day's sunshine. +She reported Sophie to be awake and comfortable, so the gentleman +climbed up-stairs and shuffled into her peaceful, rose-colored room to +give her a morning kiss. The Lord's Prayer glowed forth as brightly from +the wall as if it had been pronounced for the first time that day. + +"Well, heard all about my new pupil from Cornelia, I suppose?" said +papa, when the kiss had been given, sitting down by the bedside, and +holding his daughter's pale, slender hand in his own. + +"He who came last evening? No, I've not seen Neelie to speak to her, +since he was here. What is he to be taught?" + +"Wants to be a minister," replied the professor, rubbing his beard. +"Shall do what I can for him, because he's the son of a former friend, +now dead. I'm afraid he won't do, though. Needs a good deal besides +Hebrew and history." + +"But you can give him all he does need, papa," rejoined Sophie, with +serene faith in the old gentleman's infallibility. + +"I don't know," returned he, his eyes resting upon the Lord's Prayer. "I +don't know," he repeated, turning them to his daughter's transparent +face, which seemed almost an incarnation of the divine words. "I think, +my dear, that you could put some ideas into his head that would do him +more good than any thing I can give him;" and he smiled gravely upon +her. + +"All right, papa," said Sophie, gayly, with a tender kindling of her +soft, gray eyes. "Nothing could make me happier than to do good to +somebody. As soon as I get well enough, I'll take him under my charge." + +Her manner was playful, but there was a vibration in her tone which +caught the professor's ear, and conveyed to him the idea that there was +an unseen depth of yearning and passionate desire to be something more +than an invalid, selfish and helpless, during her earthly life; an +inheritance, perhaps, of the apostolic spirit which had played a not +inconsiderable part in the history of his own life. And surely, he may +have thought, there never was human being better qualified than she to +inspire to high and pure simplicity of life and thought, were it merely +by the example of her own. And would it not be a strange and beautiful +thing, if this beloved daughter of his should be the means of turning to +worthier and truer ambitions a man whom, of all others, he had reason to +wish honored and respected among mankind! It was a very alluring +thought, and the professor quite lost himself for a few moments in the +contemplation of it. He did not reflect, and Sophie could not know, that +there might be danger in the prosecution of such a scheme; for, all the +knowledge which a young girl like her can have or impart, must find its +ultimate origin in the heart. But then, again, the matter had taken no +definite or practical shape in his mind as yet, and things which in the +abstract may wear an appearance of being highly desirable often put on +quite a different look when presented in concrete form. This would be +especially the case with a man like Professor Valeyon, who was half a +dreamer, and half a practical, common-sensible individual. With Sophie, +however, whose whole life was necessarily a tissue of delicate and +high-wrought theories, there was no safeguard of the kind to be relied +upon. + +No more conversation was had upon the subject at that time. The +professor went down to his breakfast, and, having disposed of it with +good appetite, and smoked his morning-pipe with quiet satisfaction, +Michael brought Dolly and the wagon round to the front door, the old +gentleman clambered in, and off they rattled to Abbie's boarding-house. + +This "Abbie," as she was called in the village--indeed, not more than +one in a hundred knew her other name--had long been an institution among +the townspeople. When she first became a resident was uncertain: some +said more, some less than twenty years ago. Certain it was, at all +events, that she had grown, during her sojourn there, from a young and +comely, though sober-faced woman, to considerably more than middle age; +though time had perhaps used her less kindly than most women in her +situation in life, which is saying a good deal. No one could tell where +she came from, or what her previous life had been. She had first made +her appearance as purchaser of the house in which she had ever since +lived, and kept boarders. She was uncommunicative, without seeming +offensively reserved; quietly tenacious of her rights, though far from +grasping or aggressive, and was endowed with decided executive ability. +She had made a most unexceptionable landlady; one or two of her +boarders had been with her almost since the inception of her enterprise; +while all the better class of transient visitors to the village, which +had a moderate popularity as a summer resort, made their first +application for rooms to her. + +Some ten or twelve years after her establishment, Professor Valeyon and +his family had moved into town. They had not taken up their quarters at +Abbie's, though she could easily have accommodated them, as far as room +went; a circumstance which caused all the more surprise in some +quarters, because there seemed to have been some previous acquaintance +between herself and the professor. But Abbie was even less talkative +upon this than upon other subjects; and no one ventured to catechise the +grave and forcible-looking man who was the only other source of possible +information. After a time, he settled in the house which subsequently +became the parsonage; and, since no particular relations were kept up +between his family and the boarding-house keeper, curiosity and comment +died a natural death, and it even came to be doubted whether they ever +had met each other before, after all. + +Abbie, at the present time, was a taciturn personage, neither tall nor +short, stout nor thin. Her eyebrows were straight and strongly marked, +and much darker than her hair, which, indeed, had begun to turn gray +several years before. There was nothing especially noticeable in her +other features, except that the lips were habitually compressed, and the +chin so square-cut and firm as to be almost masculine. A good many +little wrinkles could be traced around the mouth, and at the corners of +the eyes, especially when she was much depressed; and sometimes her +expression was very hard and stern. Her manners were quite +undemonstrative; they seemed to be neither fastidious nor the reverse, +and it would have been hard to predicate from them in what station of +life she had been brought up. She certainly adapted herself well to +whatever society she happened to be with; neither patricians nor +plebeians found any thing to criticise; but, whether this were the +result of tact, or owing merely to the adoption of a negative standard, +no one could say. In language she was uniformly correct, without seeming +at all scholastic; she occasionally used the idioms and dialectic +peculiarities of those around her, though never with the air of being +heedlessly betrayed into them. + +On the whole, therefore, the boarding-house keeper remained a problem or +a commonplace, according to the fancy of the observer. In any case, she +had grown to be a necessity, if not a popular element, in the village +society. It was in her large, rambling rooms that all the grand parties +and social celebrations took place. Was a picnic or other +pleasure-expedition in prospect, Abbie's experience and managing ability +were depended on for its success. She it was who arranged the details of +weddings; and her assistance was almost as necessary a condition of a +legitimate funeral, as that of Death himself! + +Professor Valeyon drove up to the door in his wagon, got down with all +the care that the successful support of his burden of years demanded, +and chained Dolly to the much-gnawed post which was fixed for the +purpose on the edge of the sidewalk. He ascended the steps, and was met +by Abbie on the threshold. He removed his hat with old-fashioned +courtesy, and gave her cold hand a quiet, warm grasp. + +"Good-morning, Abbie," said he, gruffly, but cheerfully, and with a very +kind look out of his deep-set old eyes. "Is all well with you this +morning?" + +"Yes," replied she, with a faint smile, that seemed to show more of +weariness than merriment. "Come into the boudoir, Professor Valeyon. +You're a stranger." + +"But that's going to be remedied--that's going to be remedied!" rejoined +the old gentleman, seating himself, and allowing his hand to wander to +the top of his head, to make sure the hair-swathe was safely in +position. "Bond of union been established between us, you know." + +Abbie laid her finger upon her under lip--a common act of hers when +interested or absorbed--and looked at her caller inquiringly. + +"That young fellow that came last night, sent his trunk up before coming +himself. Saw him, didn't you?" + +Abbie shook her head. "I saw his trunk, but not him. Mr. Bressant, I +think. You know him?" + +"He's going to study divinity with me. I take some interest in him, +though he's in an unsatisfactory condition just now; intellectual +savagery, I should call it. I take it, his training has been at fault. +Seems to have no social nor affectionate instincts. It would be a good +thing to make him feel their value, to begin with." + +"I'll make it as home-like for him as I can, Professor Valeyon." + +"Well, well! I meant to ask you to do it. It'll be a new experience for +him. He's never known a mother since he was a baby, and his father +was--well!"--the old man checked himself--"his father is just dead." He +seemed about to add something more in regard to the deceased gentleman, +but forbore, glancing narrowly at Abbie, who looked only grave and +thoughtful. + +"How old is he? A boy?" she asked, presently. + +"Boyish in some ways, but must be twenty-five or six, and looks older. A +tall fellow, well made." + +"He might still be a son of mine," said Abbie, with another dim smile, +and a sigh. "Perhaps it would do me no harm to consider him as such. +Would that satisfy you?" + +"Just what I want!" exclaimed the professor heartily, and with +heightened color. "Something can be made of him, I think," he added; +"but a great deal depends on the sort of treatment he eats and sleeps +under. Well, you be motherly to him, Abbie. That's all I have to ask. +You will find good in it for yourself, too, as you say: more than you +think, very likely." + +She sighed again, playing absently with her fingers upon her +dark-colored dress, and gazing out of the window. Professor Valeyon said +no more on the subject of Bressant, but spoke of Cornelia's proposed +trip, and the Fourth-of-July party, and Sophie's convalescence; and +finally took his straw-hat from the table upon which he had placed it, +and moved toward the door. + +"Good-by, Abbie. Remember"--the old gentleman paused, with her hand in +his, and glowing upon her from beneath his bushy eyebrows; "remember you +have friends about you who don't need to be sought after. And another +thing, Abbie; if you should ever find that Time has the power to +liberate as well as to imprison you, don't forget that some wants may +exist a long while without finding expression, but that they do exist, +for all that!" + +Perhaps it was the consciousness that he was using rather grandiloquent +language in the wording of this enigmatical little speech, that caused +the good professor to look so red and embarrassed. Abbie drew her hand +away, and laid her finger on her lip. + +"Can you still say that?" asked she, with a sad kind of gleam in her +eyes and voice. + +"More than ever--more than ever!" declared he, with emphatic +incoherence. And without more words he hurried down the steps, and in +another minute was rattling rapidly homeward, astonishing Dolly herself +by the speed which he encouraged her to put forth. + +"It'll all work round," soliloquized he; "very good beginning this. If I +could have spoken more explicitly--but she'll be prepared, and that's a +great step toward clearing things up. Gee up! Dolly." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +GREAT EXPECTATIONS. + + +"Sophie," said Cornelia, several days afterward, "do you know, I believe +I'll stay for that party at Abbie's, after all." + +The two sisters were engaged in planning out an evening dress, and +Sophie's bed was so covered with the confusion thereof, that her quiet +little face, appearing above, looked odd by contrast. + +"I'm glad," replied she, with the simplicity and lack of ornamentation +that made her words forcible; "and I'm sure Abbie will be glad, too." + +"There's no reason why I shouldn't, you know," resumed the elder sister, +falling into that pleasing vein of argument wherein we consciously +express the views of our interlocutor; "a few days won't make any +difference to Aunt Margaret, and I wouldn't like to have poor old Abbie +think that I slighted her, just because I am going to enter New York +society! Besides, I think this dress will look very nice when it's +finished--don't you?" + +"Yes, dear," said Sophie, smiling to herself. "Is Mr. Bressant going to +the party?" + +"Oh, I don't know. No, I should suppose not. He's a great student, you +know, and is going to be a minister and every thing. That isn't the sort +of people that takes interest in parties. Besides, he couldn't hear the +music, so, of course, he couldn't dance." + +"Some deaf people can hear music, and even compose it." + +"Can they? But then just imagine having to talk to a deaf person in a +ballroom! it would be awfully embarrassing, don't you think so?" + +Sophie, who knew her sister well, and was very shrewd besides, began to +suspect that it would not be displeasing to Cornelia to be opposed, and +even out-argued upon the question of Mr. Bressant's probable attendance +at the party, and qualifications to make himself agreeable when there. +She enjoyed the amusement, in Her demure way, and was besides interested +to hear something about her father's pupil. + +"I should think," said she, in a modestly suggestive manner, keeping her +eyes busy with her work, "that it would be less embarrassing at a party +than anywhere. You know everybody expects to say and hear nothing but +nonsense, and there isn't a great deal said even of that. And you're +obliged to talk loud, at any rate, on account of the music and noise." + +"Well, you may be right," admitted Cornelia, who certainly did take her +sister's opposition with admirable good-nature. "And I was thinking, +Sophie, perhaps if they are not very deaf indeed, you know they might +get so used to the sound of one's voice as to hear it even when it +wasn't so much raised." + +"Why, certainly!" assented Sophie; "to some kinds of voices, at any +rate; probably to a woman's more easily than to a man's. Is Mr. Bressant +very deaf, Neelie?" + +Cornelia glanced quickly at her sister, but was reassured by the grave +composure of her aspect. Nevertheless, she was deeply engrossed in her +new dress as she made reply. + +"Oh! no. Well, not so very; I can hardly tell, though, I've spoken to +him so little. He's rather quick at catching your meaning, sometimes, I +think." + +"Do you think he's a man who would get married?" + +"Oh! I don't believe he'll ever be married," said Cornelia, and blushed, +she scarce knew why. "No woman would marry him." + +"Is he so disagreeable?" + +Cornelia moved her shoulders in a little shudder. "Oh, not that exactly; +but he's so cold and bright and hard. And he isn't always that way, +either. There are times when he's so strange--so different! I don't +believe he understands himself then. There seems to be a wild fire in +him, that once in a while blazes up, and scorches and frightens him as +well as other people." + +Sophie was perhaps more interested in this extravaganza of Cornelia's +than if she had known the incident upon which it was mainly founded; +but, on the other hand, it is possible that less exaggerated language +would not have given her so correct an idea of Bressant's character. +Cornelia--there being nothing else to especially occupy her +thoughts--had allowed them to run a good deal upon Bressant, and upon +what happened by the fountain in the garden: perhaps she had mingled the +real things and events with the fantasies of her dreams, and thus built +up an impression and theory in regard to the young man considerably more +picturesque than was warranted by the premises at her command. All this +would have been done involuntarily; and possibly Sophie's question +elicited the first conscious perception and statement of what Cornelia's +opinion had grown to be. But unconscious judgments are often more +accurate than deliberate ones because there is more of intuition about +them. + +Be that as it may, from the moment Sophie imbibed the idea that there +was something strange, fierce, and ungovernable in Bressant's nature, +she felt her sympathy and interest moved and aroused. It was the +instinctive attraction of one strong spirit toward another, the more, +because that other was so differently embodied, endowed, and +circumstanced. She was a bed-ridden invalid, but she thrilled, like +Achilles, at the first gleam and clangor of arms. The only thing that +Sophie feared, and from which she shrank, was Sin. All else attracted +her in proportion as it was powerful, stirring, or awe-inspiring. +Delicate, sensitive, and apparently meek and timid as was her nature, +her heart was firm as a Roman general's, and her soul as large and +sympathetic as an Apostle's. Did the occasion offer, this pale +minister's daughter was capable of great and immortal deeds. + +"Which way do you like him best, Neelie?" demanded she at length, +removing the dilated gaze of her gray eyes from the round knot on the +top of the bed-post; "when he's cold and bright, or when he's wild and +fiery." + +"Oh! I don't like him at all!" exclaimed Cornelia, shuddering again. + +Lest she should be suspected of a wilful misstatement, it may be as +well to show how it might happen that she should deceive herself in the +matter. Such likes and dislikes as she had heretofore felt could one and +all have been paraphrased as a more or less agreeable state of mind, +induced by the sight or thought of such and such an individual. She had +never conceived the possibility that a vital affection could take its +origin in aversion and fear, and grow strong through turmoil, passion, +and suffering. As a matter of course, she estimated her feeling toward +Bressant by the only gauge she had, and with no reference to the fact +that it was a wholly inadequate one. + +The majority of the impressions she had received of him could not +certainly be called pleasant; and that he was continually in her +thoughts; that every thing she heard or saw connected itself, in one way +or another, with him; that he bore a possible part in many of her +imaginations of the future--these were factors she did not take into +account, because ignorant of their significance. The conclusion that she +did not like him was therefore a legitimate one, according to the light +she had. + +Whatever Sophie may have thought of Cornelia's answer, she said no more, +but lay in reverie, opening and shutting her scissors in an objectless +manner, until Cornelia's voice flowed forth again. + +"Isn't it a pity he wasn't a nice, jolly, society fellow? it would have +been such fun this winter! As it is, I don't suppose we shall be able to +do so much even as if we were alone." + +"From something papa said the other day, I think he'd like to try and +make Mr. Bressant more of a society fellow; perhaps it would wear away +that coldness and hardness you speak of." + +"What I teach him the arts and pleasures of fashionable life?" exclaimed +Cornelia, laughing. "Dear me! I'd no more think of trying to teach that +great big thing any thing than--any thing!" + +"But you can make him go to Abbie's party, if you are to be there +yourself, and then, if you don't want to instruct him, you can give him +to some one who isn't afraid of him, and--have Bill Reynolds all to +yourself." + +Cornelia laughed and pouted, and told Sophie she was mean; but probably +felt it a relief to have poor Bill's name introduced, he being so +palpably _hors de combat_. + +"It would be pretty good fun, after all--walking round on the arm of +that great, tall, broad-shouldered creature, and telling him how to +behave! I believe I _will_ try it!" and she straightened herself up with +a very valiant air. + +"It will be your last chance, remember!" said Sophie, looking up with a +deep smile in her eyes. "I promised papa that when I was well I'd take +charge of Mr. Bressant myself!" + +Sophie's life, as has been said, was preeminently an ideal one. +Materialism disturbed and perplexed her, and she ignored it as much as +possible. She was inspired and excited by the ideal she had conceived of +Bressant, and of her sphere of action with regard to him. But, had the +physical personality of the man been thrust upon her in the first place, +she would have very likely recoiled, her finer intuitions would have +been jarred, and their precision paralyzed. Standing aloof, however, +living and acting only in the realm of her pure maiden creeds, every +thing seemed clear and simple enough. Right should be done, and wrong be +righted; there would be no material conditions or hinderances; results +were attained immediately. + +But life is not what the pure-hearted girl painted it in her ideal +dreams. The unconsidered obstacles rise into frowning and insurmountable +barriers. Those we would make our beneficiaries often fail to appreciate +their position, and turn our good into a worse evil than their own. We +may theorize about the human soul, but, to put our theories to the test, +is to assume an awful responsibility. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE DAGUERROTYPE. + + +Bressant occupied two adjoining rooms at Abbie's boarding-house; one +contained his bed and the other was fitted up as his study. They were on +the second floor of the house, and attainable through two turns in the +lower entry, a winding flight of narrow stairs, and an uncertain, darkly +erratic route above. + +The study was some twelve feet by eight; the floor ornamented by a +carpet which, to judge from the size of the pattern, must have been +designed to grace some fifty-foot drawing-room. The furniture consisted +of a deal table with a folding leaf, a chair, a stove--which, perhaps +because it was so small, had been permitted to remain all summer--and a +broad-seated lounge with squeaky springs, but quite roomy and +comfortable, which monopolized a large portion of the room. The walls +were papered with a bewildering diamond pattern, in blue and white. Upon +the outside window-sill stood a pot of geraniums, and another of +heliotrope. + +A good many books were stowed away in various parts of the study; piled +one upon another in the corner by the stove, ranged side by side beneath +the lounge, carefully disposed upon the inner window-sill, and occupying +as much space as could be spared to them on the table. There were few +ornaments to be seen; no landscapes or hunting-scenes--no pictures of +pretty women--no fancy pieces for the mantel--no wine either, nor +cigars, for Bressant neither smoked nor drank. A beautifully-finished +and colored drawing of a patent derrick, in plan and side elevation, was +pinned to the wall opposite the window. Above the mantel-piece hung an +ingeniously-contrived card almanac, by which the day of week and month +could be told for a hundred years to come. Two small globes, terrestrial +and astronomical, stood upon the table; on the mantel-piece was an +ordinary kerosene-lamp, with a conical shade of enamelled green paper, +arabesqued in black, and ornamented with three transparencies, +representing (when the lamp was lighted) bloody and fiery scenes in the +late war; but in the daytime appearing to be nothing more terrible than +plain pieces of white tissue-paper. + +For two weeks Bressant had done his studying and thinking in this room. +He had enormous powers of application, naturally and by acquisition, and +the first fortnight had seen them exerted to their full extent. This +diligence, however, was practised not so much because the course of +study marked out necessitated it, as by way of voluntary +self-discipline. His first evening's experience in the Parsonage garden +had given the young man a serious shock; a disturbing influence had +obtained possession of him, of which he could understand no more than +that it appeared to have some connection with Cornelia. It interfered, +at unexpected moments, with his processes of thought; it distracted his +schemes of argument; it wrote itself unintelligibly upon the page he was +reading. It even followed him in his rough tramps up the hills and +through the woods, and sometimes shook the hand which held the pen +during his compositions. + +Bressant knew not how best to combat his novel difficulty. Although +called into existence by an extraneous circumstance, it seemed to have +struck root in every faculty of his mind, and, what was more, into the +inmost core of every faculty. He was possessed, not by seven devils, but +by one devil in seven different forms. He felt that the only thing to be +done, if he did not intend to make an entire surrender of himself, was +to take stern and rigorous measures for deliverance. The best course +that suggested itself was to study his sevenfold devil down; taking +every precaution, of course, to keep out of the way of all additional +contamination; and this course he adopted, and had conscientiously +adhered to. It was with very pardonable satisfaction that he felt his +malady gradually and surely give way before his unsparing regimen, until +by the first of July he considered himself entirely whole and in working +order, and beyond danger of relapse. + +He sometimes wondered why the professor persisted in inviting him to +take dinner, or stay to tea, or sit on the balcony in the evening, or go +on a picnic into the woods. Why couldn't the old gentleman divine the +cause of his invariable and unhesitating refusals? Leaving other +considerations out of the question, would such things be likely to +increase his knowledge of theology, or further the lofty schemes of his +ambition? He would be glad when that daughter left the house! What was +it about her that had so disturbed and beclouded the heretofore +untroubled stream? Were other women like her, or was she alone in her +dangerous capacity? If the first, with what assurance could he look +forward to the intellectual mastery of the world! If the last, what a +refinement of misfortune to have been so thrown with her! What if he +should give up Professor Valeyon altogether? No, no! if he could not +conquer his destiny here, he could not be sure of doing it anywhere. Let +him only be self-controlled and prudent--keep carefully and +systematically out of the woman's way. Or perhaps--for it was not +gratifying or dignified thus to live in terror of a minister's +daughter--perhaps he might ultimately learn to associate and hold +intercourse with her, unharmed. That would be a triumph worth striving +for! Indeed, how could he feel secure until it had been won? Again, did +there at present exist any such risk as he had brought himself to +imagine? Was not this first ordeal, and its effects, all that was to be +apprehended? What if all his anxiety, and self-control, and prudence, +had been wasting themselves upon nothing? Would it not be worth while to +try the experiment? to prove whether he was still liable to this strange +witchery and enchantment? even if so it should turn out, it was still +well that the point should be settled once for all. Decided, then, that +he should take the first opportunity to put himself to the test. + +Thus did the young man argue around his instinct, ignorant that the +poison was at that moment circulating in his blood, and prompting the +very sophistries that his brain produced. He who is cured begets a +wholesome aversion toward what has harmed him; he feels no curiosity to +prove whether or no he be yet open to mischief from it. Bressant's +poison was in fact an elixir, whose delicious intoxication he had +experienced once, and which his whole nature secretly but urgently +craved to taste again. + +A result somewhat similar to this was doubtless what Professor Valeyon +aimed at in his plan of developing the emotional and affectional +elements of his pupil, albeit he was far from imagining what might be +the cost and risk to every thing which he himself held most dear. Like +many other men, of otherwise liberal mind and clear insight into +character, he had certain convictions and principles, derived from +contemplating the facts and results of his own life, which he believed +must produce upon other people's mental and moral constitutions as good +an effect as upon his own. And possibly, could we divest our regimen of +life of all personal flavor and conformation, it might, other things +being favorable, suit our friends very tolerably well. But, until we are +able to throw off the fetters of our own individuality, the measure of +our garments can never accurately fit anybody else. + +On the morning of the 1st of July, Bressant sat at his table, with his +books and papers about him. He was in an excellent humor, for he had +just arrived at the conclusion that he might, and would, safely +encounter his bugbear Cornelia. If the professor invited him to tea, and +to spend the evening, he was resolved to accept; and, at that moment, he +felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and, turning quickly round, +recognized the sombre figure of the boarding-house keeper. + +Although he had lived with her two weeks, he had not as yet had other +than the briefest communication with her. He probably thought ho had in +hand many matters of more importance than the cultivation of his +landlady's acquaintance; and she, whatever may have been her desire to +carry out the promise she had made to the professor, had not found it +possible to be other than indirectly observant of his welfare. + +"I knocked, Mr. Bressant, but I couldn't make you hear. I came to ask +you to do me a little favor, sir." + +Bressant had risen to his feet, and stood leaning against the back of +his chair. He nodded and smiled good-naturedly, his hand busy with his +beard, and his eyes taking in, with mild curiosity, the plain and +plainly-dressed woman before him. What favor could she expect him to do +for her? He'd just as lief agree to any thing that wouldn't interfere in +any way with his arrangements. Of course, she wouldn't ask any thing +more. As long as he paid his board-bill, and created no disturbance, +what obligations did he owe her? + +"You see, sir," proceeded Abbie, gently rattling the bunch of keys that +hung at her belt, "we've been in the habit of giving a party here, three +or four times a year, for the young folks to come and dance and enjoy +themselves. There will be one next Thursday, the 4th of July. Will you +come down, and join in?" + +Bressant threw back his head, with one of his brief laughs. "Come to a +dance? But I don't know how to dance! I never go into society. What +should I do? Thank you for asking me!" + +"I thought you might be interested to look on at one of our country +hops," said Abbie, whose eyes observed the young man's manner, as he +spoke, with a closeness that would have embarrassed most men. "There's a +good deal to amuse yourself with besides dancing. The school-master will +be there, and the minister that is now, and Professor Valeyon." + +"Professor Valeyon?" repeated Bressant, leaning forward, with his hand +to his ear, and the vivid, questioning expression on his face, which was +peculiar to himself. + +The movement appeared to produce a disproportionate effect upon Abbie. +Her finger tremblingly sought her under lip; a quiver, as if from a +sudden pain, passed across her forehead; there was a momentary +unsteadiness in her eyes, and then they fastened, almost rigidly, upon +the young man's face. So habitual was the woman's self-control, however, +that these symptoms, whatever they betokened, were repressed and +annulled, till none, save a particularly sharp-sighted person, would +have noticed them. Bressant was thinking only of Professor Valeyon, and +would scarcely have troubled himself, in any case, about the neuralgic +spasms of his landlady. + +"The professor and Miss Valeyon will both come," said Abbie, as soon as +the neuralgia, if that it were, would allow her to speak. "Excuse me, +sir--may I sit down a moment?" These words were uttered hurriedly, and, +at the same moment, the woman made a sudden step to the lounge, and +dropped down upon it so abruptly that the venerable springs creaked +again. + +"Beg your pardon, ma'am," said Bressant, rather awkwardly. "Must be an +infirm old person," he added to himself. "She looks older, even, than +when she came in!" + +"Well, sir," said she, with rather a constrained air, rising, from the +sofa in a way that confirmed the young man's opinion about her +infirmity; "well, sir, shall I expect you on Thursday evening?" + +"Yes; I'll come," said he, with an elastic inclination of his shoulders, +and a smile. He thought himself fortunate in so good an opportunity to +put his invulnerability to the proof. + +Abbie bowed without speaking, and moved toward the door. Having opened +it, she turned round, with her hands upon the latch: "Professor Valeyon +tells me you're an orphan, sir?" + +"My father died last month; I never knew my mother," returned Bressant, +pushing his brown beard between his teeth, and biting it impatiently. He +wished people would get through asking him about his deceased relatives. + +"Never knew your mother! it must have been--have you never felt the need +of her?" + +"Oh, no! I was better without one," said he, quite provoked at his +landlady's pertinacity. He turned about, and threw himself into his +chair. The woman shrank back beyond the threshold. + +"Good-day, sir, and thank you," she said. But Bressant could not be +expected to hear the low, timid tone in which she spoke. Seeing that he +made no response, she softly closed the door. + +She went along the dark entry to her own room. On a little table in one +corner stood an old-fashioned desk. She opened it, and, unlocking an +inner drawer, took therefrom a small morocco case, lined with red +velvet, and containing a daguerreotype much faded by age. She studied it +long and earnestly, but seemingly without any very satisfactory result. + +"But how can I expect it?" murmured she. "So long ago as this was +taken! so sickly and unformed as he was then! But, oh! did they think I +could be blind to that face, and form, and expression! and there is none +other but he, now; the father is dead. Dead! Well, may God forgive him +all the evil of his life! I'm sure I do. But what will this turn out to +be, I wonder--a curse or a blessing? I must wait--it isn't for me to +speak; I must wait, and the end may be happy, after all." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT! + + +On the evening of the 4th of July, Professor Valeyon and Cornelia got +into the wagon, and drove off, behind Dolly, to the boarding-house. It +was a warm, breathless night, and the stars looked brighter and more +numerous than usual. + +The boarding-house was one of the largest buildings in town--an +accidental sort of structure, painted white, green-blinded, and +protected, from the two roads at whose intersection it stood, by a +white-washed board-fence, deficient in several places. The house +expanded into no less than four large bay-windows, affording an outlook +to three small rooms upon the ground-floor. The four or five other +larger apartments were forced to pass a gloomy existence behind a +loop-hole or two apiece, which could not have measured over three feet +in any direction. + +The two largest rooms lay corner to corner, at right angles to one +another, and communicating by a passage-way through their point of +contact. Who the original genius was who discovered the admirable +facilities this else preposterous arrangement afforded for dances will +remain forever unknown; but the experiment once tried became an +institution as permanent as Abbie herself. + +The small triangle of space between the two rooms, which to utilize had +theretofore been an unsolved problem, served admirably as a station for +the band; they could be heard in either apartment equally well. The +small boudoirs, nooks, and corners, which were scattered here and there +with lavish hand, did excellent duty as flirtation-boxes for those of +the dancers who needed that refreshment; the only drawback being that +one was never quite sure of privacy, on account of the complicated +system of doors and entries that prevailed. + +But, in spite of all objections, a dance at Abbie's was the rallying-cry +of the community. All the respectable people in town put on their newest +clothes--and if they were new it did not so much matter what the style +might be--and thronged, on foot or in wagon, to the boarding-house door. +They came to have a good time, and they always succeeded in their +object. What pigeon-wings were performed! what polkas perpetrated! what +waltzes wrecked! How the long lines of the Virginia Reel, or "On the +Road to Boston," extended through the hall from end to end, and how the +couples twisted, whirled, and scooted between them! How the call-man, +with his violin under his chin, stopped playing to vociferate his +orders, or anathematize some bewildered pair! How the old folks, sitting +on chairs and benches along the walls, nodded and smiled and mumbled to +one another as the ruddy faces of their descendants passed and repassed +before them, and spoke to one another of like scenes thirty, or forty, +or fifty years ago! How happy everybody was, and what a jolly noise they +made! + +As Cornelia and her papa approached the house, every window was alight, +above and below. The door was thrown hospitably open, and the lamplight +streamed forth and ran down the steps, and lay in a long rectangular +pool upon the road. Abbie stood near the entrance, directing the ladies +one way and the gentlemen another. Punctuality at an affair of this kind +being among the village virtues, the whole company was present within a +surprisingly short time of the appointed hour. + +"Good-evening, Professor Valeyon; good-evening, my dear; how well-you +look! Step up-stairs--the first room on the right." + +"My pupil is to be here to-night, isn't he?" inquired the professor, as +his daughter vanished. + +"Yes, he said he'd be down. He doesn't seem to be used to society. Miss +Cornelia told me she thought it would do him good to begin, so I went up +the other day and asked him." + +"Oh! humph!" said the old gentleman, who had vainly endeavored to catch +Abbie's eye while she was speaking. He stood silent a few moments, and +then moved off to the gentlemen's dressing-room, taking a pair of +white-kid gloves from his pocket as he went. + +Cornelia, having removed her hood, put on her slippers, shaken out her +skirt, touched her hair with the tips of her gloved fingers, and settled +the ribbon at her throat, descended to the reception-room--as that part +of the entrance-hall where Abbie stood was styled--and found her papa +awaiting her. She was about to take his arm, when the hostess touched +her on the shoulder. + +"Wait a moment," said she, with a peculiar grave smile; "I'll bring you +your _protégé_." + +Bressant was standing in the door-way of an inner room, leaning with the +elbow of one arm in the hand of the other, as he pulled at his mustache +and twisted the beard on his chin. He looked ill at ease, and as if he +rather regretted his intrepidity in coming down. Had he been what is +called a student of human nature, he might have been interested in the +quaint people and customs which an occasion like this would bring to +light. But he believed that all the traits and elements of mankind at +large were comprised, in a superior form, within himself, and that, +knowing himself, he would virtually know the world. This somewhat +exclusive creed had, doubtless, been aided and abetted by his deafness, +which, even had he been otherwise inclined by nature, must have thrown +him back, in great measure, upon himself; or, possibly, the dogma may +have been but an outgrowth of the physical defect: he fights hard and +well, in this world, who counteracts the bias given by bodily infirmity. +In any case, however, since such was the position of his mind, he could +scarcely be expected to derive much entertainment from a social occasion +like the present. It is even uncertain whether he would not actually +have repented and taken to flight, had not Abbie come up at the critical +moment, and carried him off to Cornelia. + +"I wanted to have the pleasure of presenting Mr. Bressant to you +myself," said she, with the same peculiar smile; and so left them +together. + +The young man stood confronting the young woman, who, besides being +dressed with great taste, looked, owing to the whimsical circumstances +in which she was placed, every bit of beauty she had. Bressant stared +at her in astonishment. + +One woman's beauty cannot be contrasted with another's; as well compare +a summer valley with the white clouds sailing over it; each is to be +enjoyed in its own way. But Cornelia's loveliness carried with it a +peculiar quality, which not only gratified the eye, but went further, +and seemed to touch a vital chord in the beholder, jarring throughout +his being with a sweet distribution of effect, and causing heart and +voice to vibrate. It made Bressant conscious in every fibre that he was +man and she woman. Whence came the influence he could not tell, and +meanwhile it gained ever stronger and deeper hold upon him. Was it from +the eyes, a-sparkle with the essence of youth and health? or from the +mouth, with its red warmth of full yet delicate curves? the gates of +what sweetness of breath! or from the crisp, dark, lustreless luxuriance +of the hair? or from the curved shadows melting on the cheeks, and +nestling beneath the chin? He could trace it to no single one of these +various elements--yet how lovely all were! Whence, then, was it? In a +bottle of wine there are many drops, alike in color, shape, flavor, and +sparkle; in which one, of all, lurks the intoxication? The only way to +make sure of the drop is to drink the bottle; and, even then, though +there will be no doubt about the intoxication, its precise origin may +still be disputed. + +As Bressant bowed to Cornelia, who courtesied grandly in return, the +band struck up a waltz, which seemed to be at once reflected in her face +and manner. She was particularly sensitive to musical impressions, and +instinctively looked up to Bressant's face for sympathy, forgetting at +the moment that his infirmity would probably debar him from sharing her +enjoyment. However that might be, he was certainly not indifferent to +the silent music of her beauty; he was gazing down upon her with an +intensity which caused her to droop her eyes, and draw an uneven breath +or two. There was in him all a man's fire, strangely mingled with the +freshness of a boy. + +"Take my arm," said he, offering it to her. After an instant's +hesitation, more mental, however, than physical, she laid her graceful +hand within it, and they moved toward the dancing-room. + +But at the instant of contact an electric pulsation seemed to pass +through Cornelia's blood, imbuing it with a powerful ichor, alien to +herself, yet whose potency was delicious to her. She fancied, also, that +she herself went out in the same way to her companion, establishing a +magnetic interchange of personalities, so that each felt and shared the +other's thoughts and emotions. + +They now stood in the principal dancing-hall, where several couples, who +had already taken the floor, were revolving with various degrees of +awkwardness. The music had flowed into Cornelia's ears until she was +full of the rhythmical harmony. She glanced up once more at her partner, +this time with a lustrous look of confidence. Was it possible that he +had become inspired through her? Certainly it seemed as if the feeling +of the tune were discernible in his face as well as hers; it was even +betokened by the lightsome pose of his figure, and a scarcely subdued +buoyancy in his step. Moment by moment did the occult sympathy between +one another and the cadence of the music grow more assured and complete; +and at length--though precisely how it came about neither Cornelia nor +Bressant could have told--they were conscious of floating through the +room, mutually supporting and leading on each other, mind and motion +pulsating with the beat of the tune, amid a bright, half-seen chaos of +lights, faces, and forms, dancing a waltz! + +Neither felt any surprise at what, but a few moments before, both would +have deemed an impossibility. The easy, whirling sweep of the motion, +not ending nor beginning, seemed, to Bressant as well as to Cornelia, +the most natural thing in the world. Beautifully as she danced, he was +no whit her inferior. They moved in complete accord. Years of practice +could not have made the harmony more perfect. + +The charm of dancing, although nothing is easier than to experience it, +is something that eludes statement. It is the language of the body, +graceful and significant. It has that in it which will make it live and +be loved so long as men and women exist as such. The fascination of the +motion, the magic of the music, the hour, the lights; the nearness, the +touch of hands, the leaning, the support, the starting off in fresh +bewilderments; the trilling down the gamut of the hall; the pauses and +recommencements; even the little incidents of collision and escape; the +trips, slips, and quick recoveries; the breathless words whispered in +the ear, and the laughter; the dropped handkerchief, the crushed fan, +the faithless hair-pin--these, and a thousand more such small elements, +make dancing imperishable. + +Presently--and it might have been after a minute or an hour, for all +they could have told--Bressant and Cornelia awoke to a sense of four +bare walls, papered with a pattern of abominable regularity, a floor of +rough and unwaxed boards, a panting crowd of country girls and bumpkins. +The music had ceased, and nothing remained in its place save a fiddle, a +harp, and an inferior piano. + +"Come out to the door!" said Bressant, "the air here is not fit for us +to breathe." + +They went, Cornelia leaning on his arm, silent; their minds inactive, +conscious only of a pleasant, dreamy feeling of magnetic communion. Both +felt impelled to keep together--to be in contact; the mere thought of +separation would have made them shudder. + +The door stood open, and they emerged through it on to the wooden steps. +At first their eyes, dazzled by the noisy glare of the house, could +distinguish nothing in the silent darkness without. But, by-and-by, a +singular gentle radiance began to diffuse itself through the soft night +air, as if a new moon had all at once arisen. They looked first at each +other, and then upward at the sky. Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, +and caught her breath. + +From the north had uprisen a column of light, of about the apparent +breadth of the Milky Way, but far more brilliant, and defined clearly at +the edges. Higher and higher it rose, until it reached the zenith. +Pausing a moment there, it then began to slide and lengthen down the +southern slope of the sky, lower and lower, till its extreme limit +seemed to mingle with the haze on the horizon. Having thus completed its +stupendous sweep, it remained, brightening and paling by turns, for +several minutes. Finally, it slowly and imperceptibly faded away, +vanishing first at the loftiest point of all, and lingering downward on +either side, till all was gone. + +"What a glorious arch!" exclaimed Cornelia. + +"It was put there for us, was it not?" rejoined Bressant. + +Some of the other guests had come out in time to see the latter part of +this spectacle, as it trembled athwart the heavens. They "Oh'd" and +"Ah'd" in vast astonishment and admiration; and one of them humorously +asserted that it had been engaged, at a huge expense, to celebrate the +anniversary of American Independence. So the celestial arch vanished in +the echo of a horse-laugh. But Bressant and Cornelia, as they stood +silently arm-in-arm, felt as if it were rather the presage of an +emancipation of their own selves. From, or to what, they did not ask; +nor did the old superstition, that such signs foretell ruin and +disaster, recur to their minds until long afterward. + +Dancing was now recommenced, but, by an unuttered agreement, the two +refrained from participating again. The enjoyment had been too entire to +risk a repetition. They sat down in one of the small boudoirs, which, +through a demoralized corridor, commanded a view of the extremity of one +of the dancing-rooms. + +From this vantage-ground they could see the distinctive features of the +assembly pass before their eyes. Girls who danced well striving to look +graceful in the arms of men who danced ill, or floundering women +bringing disgrace and misery upon embracing men. Dancers of the old +school, whose forte lay in quadrilles and contra-dances, cutting strange +capers, with faces of earnest gravity. People smiling whenever spoken +to, and without hearing what was said; and on-lookers smiling, by a sort +of photographic process, at fun in which they had no concern. +Introductions, where the lady was self-possessed and bewitching, the +gentleman monosyllabic and poker-like; others, where he was off-hand, +ogling, and facetious; she, timid, credulous, and blushing. All kinds of +costumes, from the solitary dress-coat, and low-necked ball-dress, worn +respectively by Mr. and Mrs. Van Brueck from Albany, to the mixed tweed +sack and trousers, and the checked gingham, adorning the Browne boy and +girl. + +"How foolish it all seems when you're not doing it yourself!" remarked +Cornelia at last, laughing softly. + +"But very wise when you are." + +"How beautifully you danced! I didn't know you could." + +"I never did before--I couldn't, with any one but you. As soon as we +touched each other, I felt every thing through you." + +"It was very strange, wasn't it? and yet I don't wonder at it, somehow." + +"It would have been stranger not to have been so." + +"Why, how have you been hearing what I said?" suddenly exclaimed +Cornelia, looking at him in surprise; "I've been almost whispering all +this time!" + +"Have you? It sounded loud enough to me. But I could hear you think +to-night, I believe. Will it be so to-morrow, do you suppose?" + +"To-morrow!" repeated Cornelia. "Dear me! to-morrow is my last day +here." + +"The last day!" echoed Bressant, in a tone of dismay. "Shall we find one +another the same as to-night when you come back?" + +"Why not?" responded she, with a resumption of cheerfulness. "I sha'n't +be gone but three months." + +So the conversation lingered along, until gradually the greater part of +it was supported by Bressant, while Cornelia sat quiet and listened--a +thing she had never done before. But the young man's way of expressing +himself was picturesque and piquant, keeping the attention thoroughly +awake. His ideas and topics were original. He plunged into the midst of +a subject and talked backward and forward at the same time, yet conveyed +a marvelously clear idea of his meaning. Sometimes the last word was the +key-note that rendered the whole intelligible. And he had the bearing of +a man all unaccustomed to deal with women--ignorant of the traditional +arts of entertainment which society practises upon itself. He talked to +Cornelia as he might have done to a man, and yet his manner showed a +subtle difference--a lack of assurance--a treading in a pleasant garden +with fear of trespassing--the recognition of the woman. To Cornelia it +had the effect of the most soothing and delicious flattery; had he been +as worldly-wise as other men, he could not have been so delicate. + +He, for his part, gave himself wholly up to be fascinated and absorbed +by the lovely woman at his side. Did a thought of danger intrude, the +whisper, "Only for to-night, only for to-night!" sufficed to banish it. +Yet another day, and he would return to the old life once more. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +EVERY LITTLE COUNTS. + + +Mr. William Reynolds arrived late, perhaps because he delayed too long +over the niceties of his toilet. He was a country young man, fashioned +upon a well-worn last. His occupation for several years past had been to +attend to the furnishing and driving of a milk-cart, and, very likely, +it was this which had hindered the proper development of his figure. At +all events, he was stoutest where it is generally thought advisable to +be lean, and narrow where popular prejudice demands breadth. His knees +were more conspicuous than his legs, and his elbows than his arms. His +face was striking, chiefly because an accident in early life had +prostrated his nose; the expression, though lacking force, was in the +main good-natured, the eyes were modestly veiled behind a pair of +eye-glasses, which stayed on, as it were, by accident. + +Mr. Reynolds was an admirer of Cornelia's; a fact which was the occasion +of much pleasant remark and easy witticism. More serious consequences +were not likely to ensue, for such men as he seldom attain to be other +than indirectly useful or mildly obnoxious to their fellow-creatures. +But the strongest instincts he had were social; and it was touching to +observe the earnestness with which they urged him to lumber the path of +fashion and gay life. He nearly broke his own heart, and unseated his +instructor's reason, in his efforts to learn dancing; and, to secure +elegant apparel for Sundays and parties, he would forswear the butcher's +wagon for months at a time. Once in a while he would smoke an Havana +cigar from the assortment to be found at the grocery-store on the +corner, and sometimes, when a national holiday or the gloom of +unrequited love rendered strong measures a necessity, he would become +recklessly convivial over muddy whisky-and-water amid the spittoons and +colored prints of the hotel bar-room. + +On the present evening he arrived late, and came upon Cornelia and +Bressant just as the latter was proposing to obtain the professor's +consent to accompanying her home on foot. + +Mr. Reynolds advanced, smiling; a polka was being played at the moment, +and he playfully contorted his figure and balanced his head from side to +side in time with the tune, while with his right forefinger he beckoned +winningly to Miss Valeyon to join him in the dance. Bressant gave an +involuntary shudder of disgust; it seemed to him a grisly caricature of +the inspiration he himself had felt at the beginning of the evening. But +Cornelia was equal to the emergency. + +"If you'll go and ask papa now," said she, "I'll take care of this +person meantime. He's known me so long, I don't want to be impolite to +him." + +A good deal of harm may be done in this world by what is called a +reluctance to be uncivil. There is generally more selfishness than +consideration about it. All sincere admiration, no matter from how low a +source, is grateful to us. Cornelia knew that Bill Reynolds worshipped +her with his whole small capacity, and she was unwilling to deny herself +the miserable little incense, and give him plainly to understand that, +though it was not distasteful to her, he was. And who could blame her +for not wanting to hurt his feelings? + +Bressant had no such delicate scruples, and would gladly have assisted +poor Bill through the open bow-window. He departed on his errand, +however, with nothing more than a look of intense dissatisfaction, which +was entirely lost upon the infatuated Reynolds. + +"How lovely you do look to-night, Miss Valeyon! I almost think sometimes +it ain't fair anybody should look as lovely as you do. Elegant music +they've got to-night, ain't it? Come, now--just one turn. What?" + +Cornelia actually had danced with this young gentleman on one or two +memorable occasions in the past, but was scarcely in the mood to do so +this evening. As she looked at him, now, she wondered how she ever had. +What a difference there is in men I and even more in the way we regard +them at different times. Bressant, simply by being himself, had +annihilated all such small claims to social life as Bill Reynolds ever +possessed. + +"I'm not dancing to-night, thank you," said Cornelia; but she smiled so +as wellnigh to heal the wound her words inflicted. "What makes you so +late?" + +Now, the fact was that Mr. Reynolds had been weak enough to allow +himself to be drawn into conversation with some friends near the +entrance of the hotel possessing the bar-room with the spittoons and +colored prints already alluded to; and, being the Fourth of July, which, +like many other days, comes but once a year, and a "dry night," as his +friends assured him, he had further given evidence of lack of stamina by +accepting an invitation to "take a damp," When he had finally succeeded +in making his escape, he was conscious that it was in a tolerably damp +condition; and it had occurred to him, as a brilliant idea, to put his +head beneath the pump by way of freshening up his wits. The effect had +been, for the moment, undoubtedly clarifying, and he made his entrance +into Abbie's with a great deal of confidence; more, perhaps, than was +entirely warrantable; for the muddy whisky was still circulating in his +blood, and the light, the close, hot air, and the excitement +within-doors, were rapidly undoing the good work which the pump had +accomplished. It was probably a dim suspicion that such was the case, +which made him hesitate, and stick his hands in his pockets, and screw +his boot-heel into the floor, when Cornelia asked him why he was so +late. But the question had been asked in pure idleness, and not with any +interest or purpose to elicit a reply. The next minute she relieved him +from his embarrassment by speaking again. + +"Would you mind doing me a favor, Bill?" + +It seemed to Bill that, for the sake of hearing his Christian name from +her lips, he would be willing to forswear all else that made life most +dear--Havana cigars and muddy whisky included; and he was proceeding +with impressive gravity to make a statement to that effect, when +Cornelia once more interrupted him. + +"Thank you; I was sure you would. You're always so kind! You see I'm +obliged to go home now, but papa will want to stay to supper, probably, +or to play backgammon, and, of course, I shall leave him the wagon. +Now, I want you to promise to see that Dolly is properly harnessed +before he starts--will you? You know that man they have here isn't +always quite sober, especially when it's Fourth of July, or any thing of +that sort; and papa is getting old." + +"Yes, Miss Valeyon. I'll attend to it. I'll fix the old gentleman up, +like he was my own father. And you're just right about that fellow +that's around here; _I_ wouldn't trust him. Why--" Bill was on the point +of mentioning that he had made one of the convivial party that evening, +but checked himself in time, and looked particularly profound. + +Cornelia had probably had more than one motive in making her request of +Bill Reynolds. She wanted to avoid being urged to dance, by keeping his +mind otherwise employed; she enjoyed the amusement of making him imagine +that he was of some consequence and importance to her; and, lastly, she +was very willing that all this should concur with some possible benefit +to her father. Of Bill's irresponsible condition she had of course no +suspicion; indeed, he might have been far worse, with impunity, as far +as she was concerned. It takes considerable practice to detect the +effects of liquor, except when very excessive; and Cornelia had no such +training. + +"And," added she, as she saw Bressant making his way toward her, with +unmistakable signs on his face of having been successful in his errand, +"and suppose you go now, and find out when papa leaves, so as to be sure +to be on hand." + +It was very neatly managed, on the whole; and Cornelia, as she put on +her shoes, and drew the hood around her face, congratulated herself on +her tact and readiness. Yet she felt a little uneasiness, assignable to +no particular cause, and upon no definite subject; it may have been +nothing more than some slight qualms of conscience at having so deluded +her unfortunate admirer. As she came down from the ladies' +dressing-room, she felt a strong impulse to go and kiss her papa +good-by; but reflecting that Bill would probably be with him, and that +she would see him at any rate before she went to bed, she thought better +of it; and, taking Bressant's arm--he was waiting her at the foot of the +stairs--she signified her readiness to start. + +"When did papa say he was coming?" asked she, as they moved through the +passage-way to the door. + +"He was playing backgammon; he said he should be through in ten minutes; +he would probably overtake us before we got to the Parsonage," replied +the young man. + +"I hope he'll be all safe!" said Cornelia, half to herself, the vague +feeling of uneasiness still working within her. + +At the door they were met by Abbie, who bade them good-night, with the +same expression upon her lips and in her eyes that she had worn when +presenting them to one another early in the evening. + +"Take good care of each other, my children," said she, as they passed +out; but her tone was so low as to be audible to Cornelia alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART. + + +The faintest of breezes wafted in the young people's faces as they +descended the wooden steps of the boarding-house and passed along the +dark, deserted sidewalk of the village street. The noisy dance was soon +left at a distance; how extravagant and unnatural it seemed in +comparison with the deep, sweet night in which they were losing +themselves! + +The brightness of the stars, and the wavering peaks and jagged edges of +the northern lights, brought out the shadows of the uneven hills, and +revealed the winding length of downy mist which kept the stream in the +valley warm. Such was the stillness, and the subdued tone of the +landscape, that it seemed unreal--the phantom of a world which had lost +its sunshine, and was mourning for it in gentle melancholy. + +The sense of the solitude around them brought the young man and woman +closer to one another. For enjoyment to be, mortally speaking, perfect, +it needs that a soft and dreamy element of sadness should be added to +it; and this was given by the gracious influence of the night. The +darkness, too, encouraged the germs of that mutual reliance, +hopefulness, and trust, which combine to build up the more vital and +profound relations of life. There is a magic mystery and power in it, +which we can laugh at in the sunshine, but whose reality, at times, +forces itself upon us mightily. + +As Bressant trod onward, with the warm and lovely woman living and +moving at his side, and clinging to his arm with a dainty pressure, just +perceptible enough to make him wish it were a little closer--it entered +his mind to marvel at the tender change that seemed to have come over +familiar things. + +"I've walked often in the night, before," observed he, looking around +him, and then at Cornelia; "on the same road, too; but it never made me +feel as now. It is beautiful." He used the word with a doubtful +intonation, as if unaccustomed to it, and not quite sure whether he were +applying it correctly. + +"You speak as if you didn't know what you were talking about!" said +Cornelia, with a round, melodious laugh. "Did you never see or care for +any thing beautiful before this evening?" + +"You remember that night in the garden?" asked Bressant, abruptly. "I've +learned a great deal since then. I couldn't understand it at the moment; +I wasn't prepared for it--understand? but I know now--it was beauty--I +saw it and felt it--and it drove me out of myself." + +Cornelia was thrilled, half with fear and half with delight. Bressant +spoke with an almost fierce sincerity and earnestness of conviction, +that quite overbore the shield of playful incredulity which woman +instinctively raises on such occasions; they seemed to have crossed, at +one step, the pale of conventionalities; and, sweet and alluring as the +outer wilderness may be, it is wilderness still, and full of sudden +precipices. Besides, the very energy and impetuosity which the young man +showed, suggested the apprehension that the power of his newly-awakened +emotions was greater than his ability to control and manage them. + +But beauty, as he understood it, was something of deeper and wider +significance than that generally accepted. It was all, in mankind and +nature, that appeals to and gratifies the senses and sensuous emotions. +Cornelia had been the door through which he had passed into a +consciousness of its existence; the fragrant pass leading to the mighty +valley. Unfortunately neither he nor she was in a position to comprehend +this fact: she was no metaphysical casuist, and never imagined but that +he would find the end, as well as the beginning of his newly-opened +world in her; and he, dizzied by the tumult and novelty of the vision, +was naturally disposed to attribute most value and importance to the +only element in it of which he had as yet taken any real and definite +cognizance. + +"What a strange, one-sided life you must have had!" Cornelia remarked, +after they had walked a little way in silence. "Don't you think you'll +be happier for having found the other side out?" + +Bressant started, and did not immediately reply. Thus far he had looked +upon this unexpected enlargement of feeling as merely a temporary +episode, after all; not any thing permanently to affect the +predetermined course and conduct of his life. The idea that it was to +round out and perfect his existence--that he was to find his highest +happiness in it--had never for a moment occurred to him. He did not +believe it possible that it could coexist with lofty aims and strenuous +effort; it was a weakness--a delicious one--but still a weakness, and +ultimately to be trampled under foot. + +But Cornelia had taken the ground that it was the half of life--not only +that, but the better and more desirable half. For the first time it +dawned upon the young man, that he might be obliged to decide between +following out the high and ascetic ambition which had guided his life +thus far, and abandoning, or at least lowering it, to take in that other +part of which Cornelia was the incarnation. The prospect drove the blood +to his heart and left him pale. He would not entertain it yet. Had he +not promised himself to let this one night go by? + +"It would be a very sweet happiness, if I were sure of finding it," said +he; and Cornelia, turning this answer over in her foolish heart, made a +great deal out of it, and was thankful for the darkness that veiled her +face. But Bressant was hardly far advanced enough in the art of +affection to make a graceful use of double meanings; and most likely +Cornelia might have spared herself the blush. + +Nevertheless, the young man was more deeply involved than he suspected. +That magnetic sympathy could not otherwise have existed between him and +his companion. The music could not have sounded through her sense to +his, nor her whisper have penetrated the barrier of his infirmity, +unless something akin to love had been the interpreter and guide; and +not a one-sided something, either. + +On they walked, with the feeling of intimacy and mutual contentment +growing stronger at every moment. The ground was full of ruts and +inequalities, and ever and anon a misstep or an overbalance would cause +them involuntarily to tighten their hold upon each other; +involuntarily, but with a secret sensation of pleasure that made them +hope there were more rough places farther on. They did their best to +keep up a desultory conversation, perhaps, because they wished to spare +each other the embarrassment which silence would have caused, in leaving +the pleasant condition of affairs without a veil. When this kind of +thing first begins to be realized between young people, the enjoyment +takes on a more delicate flavor from a pretended ignoring of it. + +It is beautiful to imagine them thus placed in a situation to which both +were strangers, knowing not what new delight the next moment might bring +forth. There was an element of childlikeness and innocence about it, the +more pleasing to behold in proportion as they were elevated in mind or +organization above the average of mankind. + +A woman who loves thinks first of the man who has her heart; while he, +as a general rule, is primarily concerned with himself. If Bressant +wished Cornelia to be happy and loving, it was in order that he himself +might thereby be incited to greater love and happiness; but, had her +pleasure been, independent of his own, he would not have troubled +himself about it. To her, on the other hand, Bressant's well-being would +have been paramount to her own, and to be preserved, if need were, at +its sacrifice. + +Even a perception, on her part, of this selfishness in him, would not +have alienated her. Selfishness in him she loves does not chill, but +augments, a woman's affection. Cornelia, already inclined to allow her +companion every thing, would have seen nothing unbecoming in his being +of the same mind himself. He could scarcely value himself so high as +she. + +Meanwhile Professor Valeyon, having won his game of backgammon, hunted +up his hat, made his adieux, and went to the shed for his wagon. He +perceived a figure apparently busy in buckling Dolly between the shafts, +and, supposing it to be the ostler, called to him to know whether every +thing was ready. + +"All serene, Profess'r Valeyon," responded the voice of Mr. Reynolds, as +he led Dolly--who seemed rather restive--out into the yard. "Here you +are, all fixed! I done it for you, in style. Jump in, and I'll give you +the reins." + +"Is this the reason you were asking me what time I should start, Bill?" +inquired the old gentleman, as he mounted to his seat. "Very kind of +you: sure she's all right?" + +"Well, I ought to know something about harnessing a mare by this time, I +guess!" responded Bill, with a good deal of dignity, as he handed up the +reins. "Well, well I no doubt--no doubt! I'm accustomed to oversee it +myself, that's all.--Steady, Dolly! Good-night." + +"Good-night, Profess'r Valeyon," said Bill, who, in harnessing the mare +had managed, with intoxicated ingenuity, so to twist one of the buckles +of the head-gear, that every time the reins were tightened, the sharp +tongue was driven in under her jaw-bone. The wagon rattled off at an +unusual speed; there was no need for a whip, and the professor +congratulated himself upon the fine condition of his steed. + +"Hasn't shown such speed for years," muttered he, admiringly. "If I'd +only been a horse-jockey, now, I could have made a fortune out of her! +Points all superb--only wants a little training." + +They had now descended the hill on which stood the village, and were +flying along the level stretch between the willow-trees. The wheels +crunched swiftly and smoothly along the ruts, or, striking sharply +against a stone, made the old wagon bounce and creak. Dolly was putting +her best foot foremost, and her ears were laid back close to her head: +though that, by reason of the darkness, Professor Valeyon could not see. +He and Dolly had travelled this road in company so often, however, and +every turn and dip was so well known to him, that it never would have +occurred to him to feel any anxiety. Beyond keeping a firm hold of the +reins, he let the mare have her own way. + +In a few minutes the willow stretch was passed, and they began to +stretch with vigorous swing up the slope. Dolly's haunches were visible, +working below in the darkness, and occasionally a spark of fire was +struck from the rock by her hoof. Really she was doing well to-night. As +they topped the brow of the slope, the professor tightened the reins a +little. It wouldn't do to let the old mare overwork herself. But, +instead of slackening her pace, she sprang forward more swiftly than +ever. + +"That's odd!" murmured the old gentleman. "Can any thing be the matter, +I wonder?" and he gave another steady pull on the reins. The wagon was +jerked forward with such a wrench as almost to throw him backward. There +was no doubt that something was the matter, now. + +By this time they were within a quarter of a mile of the Parsonage, and +rapidly approaching the sharp bend around the rocky spur of the hill. +Dolly's skimming hind-legs spurned the road faster and faster, and the +fences flickered by in a terrible hurry. They whisked around the curve +with a sharp, grating sound of the wheels on the rock, and the Parsonage +lay but a short distance ahead. Suddenly a white object seemed to rise +out of the road not more than a hundred yards in advance. Dolly, with +the bit caught vigorously between her teeth, stretched her neck and head +out and ran. Professor Valeyon, bracing himself with his feet against +the dash-board, leaned back with his whole weight and sawed the reins +right and left. When within a few yards of the white object--which +seemed to have fluttered back to one side of the road--his right rein +broke: he lost his balance and fell over backward into the bottom of the +waggon, while Dolly, quite unrestrained, dashed on madly. + +The professor had just made up his mind that he stood very little chance +of seeing Abbie or his daughters again, when he felt the onward rush +suddenly modified. There were a pawing and snorting, an irregular jerk +or two, and then a dead stop. The old gentleman picked himself up and +descended to the ground uninjured beyond a few slight bruises. + +Cornelia and Bressant had been pacing the latter part of their way +slowly, there being a disinclination on both their parts to come to the +end of it. But they had passed the bend, and were within a few rods of +the Parsonage, before Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, paused, +listened, and said: + +"I think I hear him coming: yes! that's Dolly--but how fast she's +going!" + +As they stood, arm-in-arm, Bressant was between Cornelia and the +approaching vehicle: but, when it swung around the corner, she stepped +forward, thus bringing her white dress suddenly into view. At the same +moment the velocity of the wagon was much increased, and, as it came +upon them, both saw the figure on the seat, easily recognizable as the +professor, fall over backward. Bressant, who had been busy freeing the +guard of his watch, handed it to Cornelia, at the same time pressing her +back to one side. He then stepped forward in silence, half facing up the +road. + +Cornelia remained motionless, her hands drawn up beneath her chin: and +while she drew a single trembling breath, and the busy watch ticked away +five seconds, the whole act passed before her eyes. She saw Bressant +standing, lightly erect, near the centre of the road, could discern his +darkly-clad, well-knit figure, seemingly gigantic in the gloom: his head +turned toward the on-rushing mare, one foot a little advanced, his arms +partly raised, and bent: remarked what a marvelous mingling of grace and +power was in his form and bearing: as the watch ticked again, she saw +him spring forward and upward, grasping and dragging down both reins in +his hands: another tick--he was dashed against Dolly's shoulder, and his +body swung around along the shaft, but without loosening his hold upon +the reins: tick, tick, tick, the mare's headway was slackened; the +dragging at the bit of that great weight was more than she could carry; +tick, tick, tick, she staggered on a few paces, trailing Bressant along +the road; tick, tick, she came to a panting, trembling stand-still; +Bressant let go the reins, but, instead of rising to his feet, he +dropped loosely to the earth and lay there; tick--the five seconds were +up, and Cornelia drew her second breath. + +By the time the professor had scrambled out of the wagon and got around +to the scene of action, he found the mysterious white figure--his own +daughter--kneeling in the road beside a prostrate something he knew must +be Bressant. + +"Father, is he dead?" she asked, in a broken, horror-stricken voice. + +The old gentleman was too much concerned to reply. Had this been a +narrower nature he might have been aggrieved at Cornelia's ignoring his +own late deadly peril in her anxiety for the young man. But he would +have done her wrong; her heart had stood still for him till she had seen +his safety assured; then it had gone out in gratitude, admiration, and +tender solicitude, for the man who had shown unfaltering and desperate +determination in saving him. + +Having backed Dolly--who was standing, quite subdued, with hanging head +and heaving sides--away from the body, Professor Valeyon stooped down to +make an examination. He had begun life as a surgeon, and was well +skilled in the science. He cautiously unbuttoned the closely-fitting +coat. + +"Stop! let me alone! let me alone!--will you?" growled Bressant, +speaking thickly and disjointedly, like one just recovering from a +fainting-fit, but with unmistakable signs of ill-temper. + +"Thank God! you're alive, my boy," said the professor, too much relieved +to notice the tone. "Cornelia, my dear, run to the house, and get +Michael and the wheelbarrow.--Any bones broken, do you think?" he +continued, carefully pursuing his investigations the while. + +"No, nothing! can't you let me lie here alone?" was the sulky reply. +But, as the other's hand happened to press lightly in the vicinity of +the chest, Bressant drew a quick, gasping breath, and could not control +a spasm of pain. + +"Don't touch there--it's where the shaft struck me," said he, in a voice +that was no more than a whisper, but as sullen as if he had been the +victim of some unpardonable wrong. There was a trace of mortification in +it, too, such as might have been caused by detection in a disgraceful +act. + +"Never saw any thing like this in him, before," said the professor to +himself. "Badly injured, too, I'm afraid: collar-bone broken, at any +rate. Ah! there's the wheelbarrow, and Neelie with some cushions. Now, +Michael, take hold of him carefully, and help me lift him in." But +Bressant, as he felt the first touch, opened wide his half-closed eyes, +and looked around savagely. + +"Keep your hands off me," whispered he, in a menacing tone; "if I must +go into the house, I'll walk in myself." + +"Nonsense! you're crazy! 'walk in?'" cried the professor. + +Bressant said no more, but, with an effort that forced a groan, he +rolled over on his face, and thence raised himself to a kneeling +posture. He paused so a moment, and then, by another spasmodic +movement, succeeded in gaining his feet. He had been twice kicked in his +right leg, and the pain was wellnigh insupportable. He stood balancing +himself unsteadily. + +"Let me help you," said Cornelia, coming to his side. But he took no +notice of her, not even turning his eyes upon her. He staggered blindly +along the road to the gate; it gave way before him with a reluctant +rattle, and closed with an ill-tempered clap as he passed through. +Swaying from side to side of the marble walk, he at last reached the +porch. In trying to ascend the steps, he stumbled, and pitched forward +in a heavy fall. + +"There!--confound his obstinacy! he's fainted," muttered the professor, +with an awful frown, while the tears ran down his cheeks. "Here, +Michael, help me carry him in before he comes to." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A KEEPSAKE. + + +Bressant's collar-bone was broken; there were two severe bruises on his +leg, though it had escaped fracture; his body in several places was +marked with dark contusions, and there was a cut in the back of his +head, where he had fallen against a stone. The professor set the +collar-bone--a harrowing piece of work, there being no anesthetics at +hand--and attended to the other hurts, the patient all the while +preserving a dogged and moody silence, and avoiding the eyes of whoever +looked at him. + +"Can't understand it," said the old gentleman to himself; "the fellow +acts like a wild-beast as regards his appreciation of human sympathy, in +spite of his refined intellect and cultivation. A wounded animal has the +same instinct to crawl away, and suffer in private." + +When brought into the house, Bressant had been laid in the spare room +adjoining the professor's study. After he had done all he could for his +comfort, the warm-hearted old gentleman, being overcome with fatigue, +retired to rest; the patient lay sullenly quiet, wishing it were day, +and, again, wishing day would never come: at length the composing +draught which had been given him took effect, and he sank heavily into +sleep. + +It was broad daylight when he awoke, and stared feverishly around him. +The room was a pleasant one, facing the north and east, and the morning +sun came cheerfully in through the open windows, slanting down the +walls, and brightening on the carpet. It was a great improvement upon +his rather gloomy room at the boarding-house, and he could not but feel +it so. A small ormolu clock ticked rapidly upon the mantel-piece, the +swing of the gilded pendulum being visible beneath. Bressant watched it +with idle interest. He felt so weak, in mind and body, that the clock +seemed company just fitted for his comprehension. + +The door opened by-and-by, and Cornelia's smiling face peeped in, +looking the sweeter for an expression of tender anxiety. Seeing that he +was awake, her eyes took on an extra sparkle, and she advanced a step +into the room, still clinging with one hand to the door-knob, however, +as if afraid to lose its support. + +"You feel a little better, don't you? Is that mattress comfortable? I'm +going to bring you your breakfast in a few minutes." + +Bressant only grew red and bit his mustache for answer. He would gladly +have covered himself up out of sight, but he could not move hand or +foot. + +Cornelia had in her mind a little speech she meant to deliver to +Bressant, on the subject of the previous night's event, but, at the +critical moment, she felt her courage forsaking her. The topic was so +weighty--and then she shrank from speaking out what was in her head, +perhaps because her auditor was there as well as her sentiments. Still, +she felt she ought to try. + +"Mr. Bressant," began she, with a kindling look, "Mr. Bressant, I--" +here her voice faltered; "oh! you don't know--I can never tell you--I +can never forget what you did last night!" This was the end of the great +speech. + +Bressant became still more red and uncomfortable. "I made a fool of +myself last night," said he, dejectedly. "I wish you hadn't been there; +if I'd known what a piece of work--" + +"But you saved my papa's life!" interrupted Cornelia, in a blaze. + +The young man looked as if struck with a new idea. It seemed as if he +had not before thought of looking upon the professor as an independent +quantity in the affair. The whole episode had presented itself to him as +a difficult problem which he was to solve. The accident to himself had +been an imperfection in the solution, of which he was deeply ashamed. +But he was somewhat consoled by the reflection that the old gentleman +had really needed preservation on his own account. + +"That does make it better," said he, half to himself, with the first +approach to good-humor he had shown since his misfortune. + +Cornelia still remained glowing in the door-way, turning the latch +backward and forward, not knowing what more to say, and yet unwilling to +say nothing more. She did not at all comprehend Bressant's attitude, and +therefore admired him all the more. What she could not understand in him +was, of course, beyond her scope. + +"You may think nothing of it, but I know I--I know we do--I can't say +what I want to, and I'm not going to try any more; but I'm sure you +know--or, at least, you'll find out some time--in some other way, you +know." + +Bressant could not hear all this, nor would he have known what it meant, +if he had; but he could see that Cornelia was kindly disposed toward +him, and was conscious of great pleasure in looking at her, and thought, +if she were to touch him, he would get well. He said nothing, however, +and presently his bodily pain caused him to sigh and close his eyes +wearily. Cornelia immediately kissed her soft fingers to him twice, and +then vanished from the room, looking more like a blush than a tea rose. +Before long she returned with the sick man's breakfast on a tray. + +"Do you like to be nursed?" asked she, as she put the tray on a table, +and moved it up to the bedside. + +"No!" said Bressant, emphatically, and with an intonation of great +surprise. + +"Oh! why not?" faltered Cornelia, quite taken aback. + +"I hate disabled people; they're monstrosities, and had better not be at +all. I wouldn't nurse them." + +"You think there's no pleasure in doing things for people who cannot +help themselves?" demanded Cornelia, indignantly. + +"There can be no pleasure in nursing," reiterated he. "It might be very +pleasant to be nursed--by any one who is beautiful--if one did not need +the nursing!" + +Cornelia was becoming so accustomed to Bressant's undisguised manners +that she forgot to be disturbed by this guileless compliment. Many hours +afterward, when she was alone in her chamber, the words recurred to her, +devoid of the version his manner had given them, and then they brought +the blood gently to her cheeks. + +"You're very foolish," said she, as she poured out some tea, and cut up +a mutton-chop into mouthfuls. "Now, you have to drink this tea, though +you wouldn't the last time I poured you out a cup; and I'll give you +your chop. Open your mouth." + +So the athlete of the day before was obliged to submit to having his +tea-cup carried to his lips and tipped for him by a woman, and the chop +administered bit by bit on a fork. It was very degrading; but once in a +while Cornelia accidentally touched him, or her face, lit up by interest +in her occupation, came so near his own that he felt warm and thrilled, +and went near to admit it was worth all the broken bones in the world, +and the sacrifice of pride accompanying them. + +Ere breakfast was over, Professor Valeyon entered with his slippers, his +pipe, and a remarkably benevolent expression for one of such impending +eyebrows. + +"Well, my boy," said he--ever since the accident he had addressed +Bressant thus--"you look in a better humor with yourself this morning. +You'll be well used to this room before you leave it," he continued, +with kindly gravity, as he felt his patient's pulse. "You'll know all +about the number and relative position of the bars and bunches of +flowers on the wall-paper opposite, and how many feet and inches it is +from the window-frame to the room-corner, and which pane of glass is the +crookedest, and how much higher one post of your bedstead is than the +other; and plenty more things of that kind. And, to tell you the truth, +my boy, I don't believe a course of such studies, by way of variety, +will do you any harm. Now, let's look at this collar-bone of yours.--O +Cornelia! you'd better be finishing your packing, hadn't you?" he added, +to his daughter, who was leaning on the back of his chair, sympathizing +with the sick man to her heart's content. She walked obediently to the +door, but, before she disappeared, turned and sent back a smile charged +with all the warmth of her ardent, womanly nature. Bressant got the +whole benefit of it; and it lingered with him most of the morning. + +"How long must I be here?" inquired he, after Cornelia was gone. + +"Three months at least," replied the surgeon; "more if you worry +yourself about it." + +"Three months!" repeated the young man, aghast. "What's to become of my +studies? I can't hold a book; I can't write; I had to have my breakfast +fed to me this morning," continued he, biting his mustache and looking +away. The professor smiled thoughtfully. + +"I have hopes," said he, "that you'll know more about Divinity when you +come out of this room than you did before you went into it. We'll see +when the time comes." + +"I've found out already that my bones are like other men's," remarked +Bressant, with a sigh. + +"So much the better," returned the old man. "You never would have +learned that out of your Hebrew Lexicon. The best way to reach this +young fellow's soul is through his body," declared he, silently, to the +bandage he was preparing for the broken head. "This is nothing but a +blessing in disguise." But he had too much tact to carry the +conversation further, and presently left his patient alone to digest +his breakfast and the lesson it had inculcated. + +This was Cornelia's last day at home; she was to take the eight-o'clock +train next morning to the city. The young lady's mood was unequal: +sometimes she drooped; anon would break forth into much talk and +merriment, which would evaporate almost as quickly as the froth of +champagne. This was her first departure from home, and the ease, +freedom, and beloved old ways of home-life, assumed more of their true +value in her eyes. She had acquired a sentiment of awe for Aunt +Margaret's grandeur. She would be obliged to sleep in corsets and +high-heeled shoes; everybody would be going through the figures of a +stately minuet all day long. + +Then she began to feel in advance the wrench of separating from those +with whom her life had been spent, and from one other in whose company +she had lived more--so it seemed to her--than in all the years since she +ceased to be a child. Bressant was very prominent in her thoughts; nor +could she be blamed for this, for the short acquaintance bad been +emphasized by a disproportional number of memorable events: First, there +was the thunder-storm evening by the fountain; afterward, the dance at +Abbie's; and, following in quick succession, the celestial arch, the +walk homeward, and the catastrophe in which he had borne the chief part. +Besides, he was so different from common men. + +"So perfectly natural and unaffected," she argued to herself. "He means +all he says; of course I shouldn't let him say such things to me as he +does if it weren't so; but it would be affectation in me to object to +it as it is!"--a most plausible deduction, by-the-way, but dangerous to +act upon. To persuade herself that, because he was an exceptional sort +of person, his plain way of talking to her was justifiable, was to +establish a secret understanding between him and herself, which placed +her at a disadvantage to begin with; and unreservedly to accept +compliments, even ingenuous ones, was to indulge in a luxury that must +ultimately render callous her moral sensitiveness and refinement. + +On the other hand, her toleration would be almost certain to have a bad +effect upon Bressant, no matter how sincere and well-meaning he might be +at the outset. A man is apt to know when he has power over a woman; and, +although he may have no expectation of it, nor wish to use it, yet, as +time goes on and accustoms him to the idea, he must have strong +principles or cold blood who does not finally yield to temptation. Plain +speaking, where pleasant things are said, is smelling poisonous flowers +for both parties. + +A steady fall of rain set in during the night, and made the morning of +departure gray. Blurred clouds rested helplessly on the backs of the +hills, and wept themselves into the wet valley without seeming to grow +less lugubrious for the indulgence. There was no wind; trees and plants +stood up and were soaked in passive resignation. The weather-beaten +boards of the barn were drenched black, except a small place right under +the eaves, which looked as if it had been painted a light gray. When the +covered wagon was brought around to the gate, it speedily acquired a +brilliant coat of varnish; Dolly's bay suit was streaked and discolored, +and the reins, thrown over her back, got all wet and uncomfortable. + +Michael now came for Cornelia's trunk--a ponderous structure packed +within an inch of its existence. Cornelia stood at the head of the +stairs and saw it go thump! thump! thump! down to the bottom, and then +scrape unwillingly over the oil-cloth to the door. Such a heavy-hearted +old trunk as it was! Then she walked to the hall-window, and watched its +further journey along the glistening marble causeway, which dimly +reflected its square ponderosity, and the tugging Michael behind it. + +Now the gate had to be pulled open; the rasp of its rattle and sharpness +of its flap were somewhat impaired by the wet, but it managed to give +the trunk a parting kick as it went out, as much as to say the house was +well rid of it. + +"Cornelia!" called the Professor from down-stairs, "you've just five +minutes to say good-by in. Get through and come along!" + +She passed through Sophie's open door; her sister held out her arms, her +eyes overflowing with tears, but smiling with the strange perversity +that possesses some people on these occasions. Cornelia was troubled +with no such misplaced self-dental; she threw herself impatiently down +by Sophie, and sobbed with all her might. Possibly it was more than one +regret that found utterance then. + +"You'll be all well and walking about when I come back, won't you dear?" +said she, at last, in a shaking voice. + +"I shall get well thinking what a splendid time you're having, +darling." + +"Sophie--will you be quite the same to me when I come back?" + +"Why, Neelie, dear, what a question! I shall always be the same to you." + +"But I feel as if there were going to be something--that something was +going to come between us;" and Cornelia began to droop like a flower +under an icy wind. "You never could hate me, could you, Sophie?" + +"Hate you! Neelie! What makes you speak so, dear? I have no misgivings." + +"Oh! I don't know--I don't know! it must be because I'm wicked!" + +"_You_ wicked, my darling sister! Come," said Sophie, with an earnest +smile, "think only of how much we love each other; let the misgivings +go." + +"Yes, we do love each other now, don't we? Whatever happens we'll always +remember that. Good-by, Sophie!" said Cornelia, with a strong hug and a +long kiss. + +"Good-by, dear Neelie!" + +Cornelia ran down-stairs; her papa had just gone out to the wagon; she +went into Bressant's room, and walked quickly up to the bedside. + +"Here's your watch," said she. "I've kept it all safe, and wound it up +and every thing." She had also slept with it under her pillow, and worn +it all day in her bosom, but that she did not mention. She laid it down +on the table as she spoke. + +"Have you a watch?" asked Bressant. + +"I had one, but it did not go very long. It was very small and pretty +though;" this is the short and pathetic history of most ladies' watches. + +"I'd like you to take something of mine with you that you can see and +hear and touch: will you keep this watch?" asked he, fixing his eyes +upon her. There was no time to deliberate; there was nothing she would +like so much; she snatched it up without a word and stuck it into her +belt. + +"Good-by!" said she, holding out her hand. Bressant took it, not without +difficulty. + +"I wish you were going to stay," said he, gloomily, "I should be more +happy to have you here, than ashamed to need your help." + +Cornelia's eyes fell, and there was a tremulousness on her lips that +might mean either smiles or tears. "You'll be glad to see me when I come +back, then, and you are well?" + +"You'll be like a beautiful morning when you come," returned he, with a +touch of that picturesqueness that sounded so quaintly coming from him. +All this time he had retained her hand, and now, looking her in the +eyes, he drew it with painful effort toward his lips. Cornelia's heart +beat so she could scarcely stand, and her mind was in a confusion, but +she did not withdraw her hand. Perhaps because he was so pale and +helpless; perhaps the old argument--"it's his way--he don't know it +isn't customary;" perhaps--for this also must have a place--perhaps from +a fear lest he should make no attempt to regain it. She felt his bearded +lips press against it. At the touch, a sudden weakness, a self-pitying +sensation, came over her, and the tears started to her eyes. + +"No one ever did that before to me," she said, almost plaintively, for +he had spoken no justifying words, and she was balancing between a +remorseful timidity and a timid exultation. + +"It's the first kiss I ever gave," said he, and his own voice vibrated. +"Are you angry? it shall be the last if you are." + +"Oh, I'm not angry," faltered poor Cornelia; and then she felt, or +seemed to feel, a force drawing her down--scarcely perceptible, yet +strong as death. She bent her lovely glowing face, with its tearful eyes +and fragrant breath, close down to Bressant's. + +At that very moment, or even an incalculable instant before, the +professor's voice was heard calling loudly from without: + +"Come--come! be quick! you'll be too late!" + +She rose and fled from the room; but it was too late, indeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +NURSING. + + +After seeing Cornelia off, Professor Valeyon bethought himself of Abbie; +she must be wondering what had become of her late boarder, and he +resolved to stop at the house, and give her an account of the accident. +He had got some distance beyond the boarding-house when the idea +occurred to him. Just as he was about to head Dolly round in the +opposite direction, he discerned a figure beyond, beneath an umbrella, +which looked very much like the person he was seeking. He drove on, and +in a few minutes overtook her. + +"Going up to the Parsonage?" cried the old gentleman, getting gallantly +down into the mud. "Here, jump up into-the wagon; I want to tell you +about your--boarder." + +"He--there's nothing the matter with him, of course?" said Abbie, with a +short laugh. She was looking very pale, and as if she had not slept much +of late. "No, don't drive mo to the Parsonage; take me home, if you +please, Professor Valeyon. Well, about Mr. Bressant?" + +"Doing very well now; he was pretty seriously hurt." And he went on to +give a short account of what had happened, which Abbie did not interrupt +by word or gesture; she sat with her head bent, and her lips working +against each other. + +"It's quite certain he'll recover?" she asked, when all was told. + +"As certain," quoth the professor, non-committally, "as any thing in +surgery can be." + +"It wouldn't be safe to move him, of course?" + +"Not till he's a good deal better; you see, the collar-bone--" + +"Yes, I'll take your word for it," said Abbie, very pale. "Well, I'm +glad he's in such good hands. If I had him he wouldn't be comfortable; I +should be sure to do him more harm than good; it's better as it is; much +better." + +She spoke in an inward tone, looking vacantly out into the rain, and +fumbling with the handle of her umbrella. + +"But you'll come up and see him once in a while, at the Parsonage?" + +Abbie shook her head. "No, no, Professor Valeyon; why should I? Do you +suppose he wants to see me? do you suppose he's thought of me once since +he went away? It would be a strange thing for an educated, intellectual, +wealthy young man like him to do, wouldn't it?" asked Abbie, with a +smile. + +The professor's eyes met hers for a moment, and then she looked away. +Presently she spoke again: + +"I'd a great deal rather leave this world as I've lived in it, for the +last twenty years and more, than run any risk of making a blunder. I +don't want things to change, Professor Valeyon; but if they do, it +musn't be through any act of mine, or yours either." + +By this time they had arrived at the boarding-house; and the old +gentleman, having seen Abbie safely in to the door, drove homeward, +frowning all the way, and at intervals shaking his head slowly. When he +got home, he shut himself into his study, and there paced restlessly +backward and forward, and stared out of the window across the valley. +That open spot on the hill-top seemed to afford little or no +enlightenment or satisfaction; and when he sat down to his solitary +dinner, the frown had not yet cleared away. + +The next day the rain was over, and a cart was sent up to the parsonage, +containing Bressant's books, and such other of his belongings as he +would be likely to need during his illness; and, accompanying them, a +note from Abbie, expressing her regret at his misfortune, and her hopes +that he would return to his rooms at her house as soon as his health was +sufficiently reestablished. The young man heard the note read, and +congratulated himself, as he closed his eyes with a yawn, that he was +not under his quondam landlady's ministrations. + +But even the best circumstances could do little to lighten the +insufferable tediousness of his confinement. Probably, however, such +changes and modifications as may have been in progress in his nature, +attained quicker and easier development by reason of his physical +prostration. The alteration in his bodily habits and conditions paved +the way for an analogous moral and mental process. The powers of a man +are never annihilated; if dormant in one direction, they will be active +in another; and thus Bressant's passions, naturally deep and violent, +being denied legitimate outlet, had given vigor, endurance, and heat of +purpose, to the prosecution of his intellectual exercises. But, as soon +as these elements of his nature found their proper channels, they rushed +onward with far more dash and fervor than if they had never been dammed +or deflected. + +The combined effect upon the young man of the companionship of a +beautiful woman and his own broken bones, had been to make him feel and +ponder on the nature of her power over him. The name of love was of +course familiar to him, but he could hardly as yet, perhaps, grasp the +full significance of the sentiment. Like other forms of knowledge, it +must be approached by natural gradations. Here, if nowhere else, +Bressant's life of purely intellectual activity was a disadvantage. His +stand-points and views were artificial, speculative, and material. Love +cannot be reduced to a formula, and then relinquished; nor is it ever +safe to use, as pattern for an untried work, the plan whereby something +else was accomplished. Life has need of many methods. + +Nearly a week of musing and speculation had passed over the young man's +head, when one day, as he was feeling unusually disconsolate, and +wishing for unattainable things--Cornelia among others--he became aware, +through some subtle channel of sensation, that somebody was standing in +the door-way. He was lying in such a position that he could not see the +door, so, after waiting a few moments, he exclaimed, with an invalid's +irritability: + +"Come in--or shut the door!" + +"I'll come in, if you please," answered an amused voice, which, though +soft and low, possessed a penetrating quality which made it easily +audible to the deaf man. He had never heard it before; but either +because of this quality, or for some other more occult reason, he +conceived a most decided liking for it. + +It's owner now became visible. She was a delicate-looking girl, with a +pale, conch-shell complexion, brown hair as fine as silk, and pleasant, +serene, gray eyes. She was dressed very simply in white, with a blue +band across her hair, and a blue scarf and sash around throat and waist. +Her face, though showing signs of quiet strength, and of a +self-confidence which was the flower of maidenly modesty and innocence, +was not beautiful according to any recognized standard. Bressant, from +his intuitive perception of form and proportion, was aware of this. The +forehead was too high, the nose irregular, the mouth lacked the perfect +curve, and the teeth, though white and even, were not small enough for +beauty. + +Nevertheless, Bressant was at once impressed with the young girl's +presence. It was as if an ethereal cloud--such as that which, shone +through by white sunlight, was just floating past the window--had eddied +unexpectedly into his chamber, cooling and quieting him with the +freshness of its heavenly vapor. Her eyes met his with a simple +directness which made his glance waver, though he was not given to +humility. Something, whereof neither science nor philosophy can take +cognizance, seemed to emanate from her, elevating while it humbled him. + +"If I'd known who you were, I--I shouldn't have asked you to shut the +door!" said he, in an apologetic tone quite new to him. + +"And how do you know who I am?" inquired the vision, with a refreshing +smile. + +"I meant, what sort of a person you were; but you must be Miss Sophie: +only I thought she was ill." + +"I am Miss Sophie, but I'm not to be thought ill any more. One invalid +in the house is enough. I'm going to nurse you, and, since I'm well, you +may be twice as ill as ever, if you choose." + +"Well!" said Bressant, quite resignedly. He was becoming a very +respectable patient. + +"In what way do you want to be taken care of?" resumed the nurse with a +cheerful, business-like gravity which was at once becoming and piquant. + +"Stay here and talk; I like to hear your voice: and you look so cool and +pleasant." + +Very few people could oppose this young man in any thing; he knew so +well what he wanted, and demanded it so uncompromisingly. But Sophie's +sense of fitness and propriety was as sound and impenetrable as adamant, +and scarcely to be affected by any human will or consideration. She felt +there was something not quite right in his manner and in the nature of +his demand; and, being in the habit of making people conform to her +ideas, rather than the reverse, she at once determined to correct him. + +"If there's any thing you wish me to read to you, I'll do it. I didn't +come to sit down and talk to you; but, if you like my voice, you can +have more pleasure from it in that way." + +"It would be no use for you to read: I couldn't understand--I couldn't +attend to your voice and the book at the same time." + +"We'd better wait, then," said Sophie, turning her clear, gray eyes upon +him with an expression of demure satire. "By-and-by, perhaps, it won't +have such a distracting effect upon you--when you come to know me +better. If not, I must keep away altogether." + +Bressant's forehead grew red with sudden temper. He felt reproved, but +was not prepared to acknowledge that he had merited it. + +"You're very generous of your voice!" exclaimed he, resentfully. "It's +your fault, not mine, that it's agreeable. You're not so kind as your +tone is." + +"I don't mean to be unkind," said she, more gently, looking down. "You +don't seem to see the difference between unkindness and--what I said." + +"What is the difference?" demanded he, taking her up. + +Sophie paused a few moments, compassionating this great, willful boy, +and wondering what she could do for him. He had saved her father's life, +thereby imperilling his own, and disabling himself, and she could not +but admire and thank him for it. But his manner puzzled and annoyed her, +and was an obstacle in the way of her would-be helpfulness. + +"You wouldn't ask that question, I think, if you'd had sisters, or a +mother," she said, at last. "I suppose you've lived only with men. But +you must learn how to treat young women from your own sense of what is +delicate and true." + +Bressant stared and was silent: and Sophie herself was surprised at the +authoritative tone she was assuming toward a bearded man whom she had +never met before. But it was impossible to associate with Bressant +without either yielding to him, or, at least, behaving differently from +at other times, in one way or another. He was a magnet that drew from +people things unsuspected by themselves. + +The pause was finally broken by the young man's accepting the situation +with a grace, and even docility, which was nearly too much for Sophie's +gravity. + +"If you'll read, I will listen and understand it: you'd better try the +Bible. I have a great deal of work to do upon that, still: you'll find +one on the table by the window." + +She got the book, with whose contents she was considerably better +acquainted than was the divinity student, and sat down to read, +marveling at the oddness of the situation; while he lay apparently +absorbed in the cracks on the ceiling. By degrees--for having carried +her point she could not help being more gracious--she began to allow a +little embroidery of conversation to weave itself about the sacred text +She spoke to Bressant about such simple and ordinary matters as went to +make up her life--the books she had read, the people she knew, the +country round about, a few of her more inward thoughts. He listened, and +said no more than enough to show he was attentive; sometimes making her +laugh by the shrewdness of his questions, and the quaintness of his +remarks. + +But he said nothing more to bring a grave look into the eyes of his +young nurse; and she, finding him so gentle and boyish, and withal manly +and profound, chatted on with more confidence and freedom; and, being +gifted with fineness and accuracy of observation, and a clear flow and +order of language and ideas, made talking a delight and a profit. + +There was nothing formal or didactic about Sophie, and her talk rippled +forth as naturally and spontaneously as a brook trickles over its brown +stones, or the over-hanging willows whisper in the wind. There was in it +the unwearied and unweariable freshness of nature. And Sophie's vein of +humor was as fine and pungent as the aroma of a lemon: it touched her +words now and then, and made their flavor all the more acceptable. + +So Bressant gained his end at last, though he had yielded it; and this +fact was not lost upon the trained keenness of his observation. After +his nurse was gone, he lay with closed eyes, and a general sensation of +comfort, until he fell asleep. Quiet dreams came to him, such as +children have sometimes, but grown-up people seldom. Everywhere he +seemed to follow a cool, white cloud. But where was Cornelia? + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE. + + +In spite of nursing and a very strong constitution, Bressant's recovery +was slow. The fact was, his mind was restless and disturbed, and +produced a fever in his blood. Large and powerful as he was, his +physical was largely dependent on his mental well-being, as must always +be the case with persons well organized throughout. He would never have +been so muscular and healthy had his life not been an undisturbed and +self-complacent one. These questions of the heart and emotions were not +salutary to his body, however beneficial otherwise. + +At the same time, no one is quite himself who is ill, and doubtless +Bressant would have escaped many of his difficulties, and solved others +with comparatively little trouble, if his faculties had not been untuned +by illness. While he was more open to the influx of all these novel +ideas and problems, he was less able to deal with and dispose of them. +So the professor, while encouraged by the observation of his apparent +progress in the direction of human feeling and emotional warmth, was +concerned to find him falling off in recuperative power. + +Sophie was largely to blame for it. Bressant was getting to depend too +much upon her society. He brightened when she came in, and was gloomy +when she went out. He liked to talk and argue with her; to dash waves +of logic, impetuous but subtle, against the rock of her pure intuitions +and steady consistency. He was careful not to go too far; though, +indeed, she usually had the best of the encounter. Of course his +knowledge and trained faculties far surpassed Sophie's simple +acquirements and modest learning; but she had a marvelous penetration in +seeing a fallacy, even when she knew not how to expose it; and she +mercilessly pricked many of the conceited bubbles of his understanding. + +Doubtless she would have noticed the too prominent position which she +had come to occupy in the invalid's horizon, had not her eyes, so clear +to see every thing else, been blinded by the fact that he, also, was +grown to be of altogether too much importance to her. She never for a +moment imagined that any thing but an abstract and ideal scheme for +benefiting Bressant was actuating her in her intercourse with him. She +proposed to educate him in pure beliefs and true aspirations; to show +him that there was more in life than can be mathematically proved. But +that she could derive other than an immaterial and impersonal enjoyment +from it--oh, no! + +This was quixotic and unpractical, if nothing worse. What other means of +imparting spiritual knowledge could a young girl like Sophie have, than +to exhibit to her pupil the structure and workings of her own soul? But +this could not be done with impunity; neither was Bressant a cup, to be +emptied and then refilled with a purer substance. Young men and women +with exalted and ideal views about each other, cannot do better than to +keep out of one another's way. Unless they are prepared to mingle a +great deal of what is earthly with their dreams, they will be apt, +sooner or later, to have a rude awakening. + +The conceit of her ideal crusade against Bressant's shortcomings blinded +Sophie to what she could not otherwise have helped seeing--that she +enjoyed his companionship for its own immediate sake. She had, perhaps, +more direct and simple strength of character than he; but he made up in +other ways for the lack of it. Besides, he had not taken measures to +obstruct the natural keenness of his vision, and therefore saw, with +comparative clearness, how the land lay; an immense advantage over +Sophie, of course. But when he came to analyzing and classifying what he +saw, he found his intelligence at fault. That little episode with +Cornelia was the only bit of experience he had to fall back upon; and +that was more of a puzzle than an assistance to him. + +Matters went on thus for about six weeks, at which time Bressant was +still confined to his room, although decidedly convalescent. It had +seemed to him for some time past that a crisis would soon be reached in +his relations with Sophie, but what the upshot of it would be he could +not conjecture. He only felt that at present something was +concealed--that there were explanations and confessions to be made, +which would have the effect of putting his young nurse and himself upon +more open and intimate terms. He looked forward to this culmination with +impatience, and yet with anxiety. One morning, when they had been +reading Spenser's "Faerie Queene," Cornelia's weekly letter was brought +in, and subsequently the conversation turned upon her. + +"I used to think she was much more beautiful than you," remarked +Bressant, thoughtfully, twisting and turning the palm-leaf fan he held +in his hands. "I don't think, now, that I knew what beauty was," he +added, concentrating his straight eyebrows upon Sophie, in a +scrutinizing look. + +"No one could be more beautiful than Neelie," said Sophie, with gentle +emphasis. "What has made you change your opinion?" As she spoke, she +closed the book on her lap, and leaned her cheek upon her hand. Some of +the sunshine fell upon her white dress, but left her face in shadow. It +struck Bressant, however, that the clear morning light which filled the +room emanated from her eyes rather than from the sunshine. + +"I don't know that I have changed my opinion," said he, looking down +again at the fan; "I learn new things every day, that's all. Do you ever +think about yourself?" + +"I suppose I do, sometimes; nobody can help being conscious of +themselves once in a while." + +"About what you are, compared with other people, I mean." + +"There's nothing peculiar about me; still, I may be different, in some +ways, from other people," answered Sophie, with simplicity. + +"I can judge better about that than you; there was some use in deafness, +and being alone, and thinking only of fame, and such things." + +"What use?" asked Sophie, leaning forward, with interest, for he had +never spoken about his former life before. + +"The same way that a man who never drinks has a more delicate sense of +taste than a drunkard," returned Bressant, apparently pleased with his +simile. "I've seen so little of women, that I can taste you more +correctly than if I had seen a great many. Understand?" + +Sophie did not answer, being somewhat thrown out by this new way of +looking at the matter. There seemed to be some reason in it, too. + +"If I'd associated with other people, I shouldn't have been sensitive +enough to recognize you when we met; no one except me can know you or +feel you," continued he, following out his idea. + +Sophie began to feel a vague misgiving. What did this mean? What was +going to be the end of it? Ought she to allow it to go on? And yet--most +likely it meant nothing; it was only one of his queer fancies that he +was elaborating. There did not seem to be any thing suspicious in his +manner. + +"It wasn't easy even for me," he resumed, throwing another glance at +her; she sat with her eyes cast down, so that he could observe her with +impunity. "It would have been impossible unless you had helped me to it. +You have taught me yourself, even more than I have studied you." + +Sophie started, and a look of terror, bewilderment, and passionate +repudiation, lightened in her eyes. How dared he--how could he, say +that? how so falsely misrepresent her actions, and misinterpret her +purposes? Her mind went staggering back over the past, seeking for means +of self-justification and defense. She had only meant to benefit him--to +amplify and soften his character--to inspire him with more ideal views +and aims; and to do this she had--what? Sophie paused, and shuddered. +Could it, after all, be true? Had she, forgetful of maidenly modesty and +reserve, opened to this man's eyes her secret soul? invited him into the +privacy of her heart, to criticise and handle it?--invited him!--brought +forward, and pressed upon his notice, the thoughts and impulses which +she should scarcely have whispered even to herself? Had she done this? + +"You have taught me that there is no one like you in the world," said +Bressant. His voice sounded strangely to her, coming across such an +abyss of shame, remorse, and dismay. Did he know the bitter satire his +words conveyed? Sophie's face was hidden in her hands. She dared not +think what might come next. + +"Is it nothing to you to know that you are more to me than any thing +else?" demanded he, and his tone was becoming husky and unsteady. The +passion that had been smouldering within him so long, unsuspected in its +intensity even by himself, was now beginning to be-stir itself, and +shoot forth jets of flame. "Why have you let yourself be with me--why +have you made yourself necessary to me--if I was nothing to you?" + +Sophie, in the extreme depths of her degradation and abasement, became +all at once quiet and composed. She lifted her face, pale, and smitten +with suffering, from her hands, and, folding them in her lap, looked at +Bressant calmly, because she understood herself at last, and felt that +the time for hiding her head in shame had gone by. + +"You have _not_ been nothing to me," said she, "though I didn't know it +before, or, rather, I _would_ not. I had an idea that I was leading you +up to higher things, as an angel might, and all the time I was making +use of God's truth and recommendation, as it were, to gratify and shield +my own selfishness and--" here her voice sank, and her lips quivered, +and grew dry, but she waited, and struggled, and finally went on--"and +immodesty. I don't know why I should tell you this--except that I've +told you every thing else, and this may save you from some of the wrong +the rest has done you. But the most of it must remain irreparable." A +long sigh quivered up from Sophie's heart, and quivered down again, like +a pebble sinking through the water. Such a sigh, in a woman, is the sign +of what can scarcely come twice in a lifetime. + +"I don't understand any thing about that; I don't want to!" exclaimed +Bressant, with an impetuous gesture. "What you've done seems to have +been better than what you meant to do, at any rate. You've made yourself +every thing to me. Say that I am as much to you, and what more do we +need? Say it! say it!" and, in the vehemence of his appeal, the sick man +half raised himself from his bed. + +"I cannot! I cannot!" said Sophie, in a low, penetrating voice of +suffering. "If you were the lowest of all men, I could not. I came to +you in the guise of an angel, and what I have done, what woman is there +that would not blush at it? It may not be too late to save you--" + +"Stop!" cried Bressant, with an accent of hoarse, masculine command, +such as she could not gainsay. "It is too late!--I will not be saved! +Look in my eyes, Sophie Valeyon, and tell me the name of what you see +there!" + +Her sad, gray eyes, stern to herself, but tender and soft to him, as a +cloud ready to melt in rain-drops, met his, which were alight with all +the fire that an aroused and passionate spirit could kindle in them. She +saw what she had never beheld before indeed, but the meaning of which no +woman ever yet mistook. It was her work--the assurance of her +disgrace--the offspring of her self-seeking and unwomanly behavior; and +yet, as she looked, the blood rose gradually to her pale cheeks, and +stained them with a deeper and yet deeper spot of red; her glance caught +a spark from his, and her fragile and drooping figure seemed to dilate +and grow stately, as if inspired by some burst of glorious music. +Bressant, in the mid-whirl and heat of his emotion, fell back upon the +pillow, whence he had partly raised himself, trembling from head to +foot. + +"Is it love?" he said, in a smothered tone that was scarcely more than a +whisper. He was beaten down and overawed by the might and grandeur of +the passion which, growing in his own breast, had become a giant that +swayed and swept all things before it. + +"Yes--love!" said Sophie, in a voice like the soft ring of a silver +trumpet. Her heart was steadied and strengthened by what mastered him. +"Love--it is above every thing else. It has brought me down so +low--perhaps, through God's mercy, it is the path by which I may rise +again. You will guide me, dear?" + +And, with a gesture of divine humility, she put her hand in his, and +looked down, with the smile brightening mistily in her eyes. + +At that moment--recalled, perhaps, by a chance similarity in position, +gesture, or expression--came over him, like a sudden chill and darkness, +the memory of his last interview with Cornelia. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PARTING AN ANCHOR. + + +Cornelia, upon her arrival in New York, had been met at the station by +an emissary of Aunt Margaret, and conducted to a country-seat some +distance up the river. Four or five young ladies were already assembled +there, and as many young gentlemen came up on afternoon trains, and +availed themselves of Aunt Margaret's hospitality, until business called +them to the city again the nest morning, except that on Saturdays they +brought an extra change or two of raiment, to tide them over the blessed +rest of Sunday. + +"I've been so _ill_, my love--how sweet and fresh you _do_ look! +Give your auntie a kiss--there. _Oh_! you naughty girl, how jealous +all the girls will be of those _eyes_ of yours!--so ill--_such_ +dreadful sick-headaches--oh, yes! I'm a _great_ sufferer, dear, +a great _sufferer_--but no one, hardly, knows it. I tell _you_, you +know, dear, because you are my own darling little Cornelia. Oh! those +sweet _eyes_! So ill--so _unable_, you know, to be _up_ and _doing_--to +be as I should wish to be--as I once _was_--as you are now, +you--splendid--creature--you! Now you _must_ let me speak my heart out +to you, dear; it's my nature to do it, and I _can't_ restrain, +it--foolish I know, but I always _was_ so foolish! oh dear! well--Ah! +there's the first bell already. Let me show you your room, darling. As I +was going to say, I've been so indisposed that I've been obliged to pet +myself up a little here, before starting on our _tour_, you know, but in +a week I mean to be well again--I _will_ be. Oh! I have immense +_resolution_, dear Neelie--_immense_ fortitude, where those I love are +concerned. There, this is your little nest--now _one_ more kiss. Oh! +those sweet _lips_! Remember you sit by me at dinner." + +"What a funny old woman Aunt Margaret is!" said Cornelia to herself, +after she had closed the door of her chamber. "Such a queer voice--goes +away up high, and then away down low, all in the same sentence. And what +a small head for such a tall woman! and she's so thin! I do hope she +won't go on kissing me so much with her big mouth! how fast she does +twist it about! and then her front teeth stick out so! and she keeps +shoving that great black ear-trumpet at me, whenever she thinks I want +to speak; and her eyes are as pale and watery as they can be, and they +look all around you and never at you. Well, it's very mean of me to +criticise the old thing so; she's as kind as she can be. I wonder +whether she knows Mr. Bressant; her manner reminds me sometimes of him; +in a horrid way, of course, but--poor fellow! what is he doing now, I'd +like to know!" Here Cornelia's meditations became very profound and +private indeed; she, meanwhile, in her material capacity, making such +alterations and improvements in her personal appearance as were +necessary to prepare herself for the table. + +Every few minutes--oftener than any circumstances could have +warranted--she pulled a handsome gold watch out of her belt and +consulted it. She did not, to be sure, seem solely anxious to know the +hour; she bent down and examined the enameled face minutely; watched +the second-hand make its tiny circuit; pressed the smooth crystal +against her cheek; listened to the ceaseless beating of its little +golden heart. That golden heart, it seemed to her, was a connecting link +between Bressant's and her own. He had set it going, and it should be +her care that it never stopped; for at the hour in which it ran +down--such was Cornelia's superstitious idea--some lamentable misfortune +would surely come to pass. + +The dinner-bell sounded; she put her watch back into her belt, bestowing +a loving little pat upon it, by way of temporary adieu. Then, feeling +pretty hungry, she ran down the broad, soft-carpeted stairs, with their +wide mahogany banisters--she would have sat upon the latter and slid +down if she had dared--and entering the dining-room, which was furnished +throughout with yellow oak, even to the polished floor, she took her +place by her hostess's side. She had already been presented to the +fashionable guests who sat around the ample table, and a good deal of +the awe which she had felt in anticipation, had begun to ooze away. +Although much was said that was unintelligible to her, she could see +that this was not the result of intellectual deficiency on her part, but +merely of an ignorance of the ground on which the conversation was +founded. As Cornelia stole glances at the faces, pretty or pretentious, +of the young ladies, or at the mustaches, whiskers, or carefully-parted +hair of the young gentlemen, it did not seem to her that she could call +herself essentially the inferior of any one of them. As to what they +thought of her, she could only conjecture; but the gentlemen were +extravagantly polite--according to her primitive ideas of that +much-abused virtue--and the ladies were smiling, full of pretty +attitudes, small questions, and accentuated comments. No one of them, +nor of the young men either, seemed to be very hungry; but Cornelia had +her usual unexceptionable appetite, and ate stoutly to satisfy it; she +even tasted a glass of Italian wine at dessert, upon the assurance of +Aunt Margaret that "she must--_really_ must--it would never do to come +to New York without learning how to drink wine, you know;" and upon the +word of the young gentleman who sat next to her that it wouldn't hurt +her a bit--all wines were medicinal--Italian wines especially so; and +so, indeed, it proved, for Cornelia thought she had never felt so genial +a glow of sparkling life in her veins. She was good-natured enough to +laugh at any thing, and brilliant enough to make anybody else laugh; and +the evening passed away most pleasantly. + +But Cornelia was no fool, to be made a butt of; and her personality was +too vigorous, her individuality too strong, not to make an impression +and way of its own wherever she was. The young ladies tried in vain to +patronize her: they had not the requisite capital in themselves; and the +young gentlemen soon gave up the attempt to make fun of her; her +vitality was too much for them, and they were, moreover, disconcerted by +her beauty. Miss Valeyon, however, was new to the world, and her +curiosity and vanity had large, unsatisfied appetites. To have been +patronized and made fun of would have done her little or no harm; but in +gratifying these appetites she might do a good deal of harm to herself. + + +When the young gentlemen were in town, or in the smoking-room, the young +ladies were of course thrown upon their own resources, and generally +drifted together in little groups, to talk in low tones or in loud, to +laugh or to whisper. Cornelia, who soon got upon terms of companionship +with one or two members of these conclaves, could hardly do otherwise +than occasionally join the meetings. At first she found little or +nothing of interest to herself in what they talked about. + +The discussion of dress, to be sure, was something, and she found she +had much to learn even there. Then there was a great deal to be said +about sociables, and theatres, and sets, and fellows; and there was also +more or less conversation, carried on in a low tone that occasionally +descended to a whisper, which, beyond that it seemed to have reference +to marriage and kindred matters, was for the most part Greek to +Cornelia. A kind of metaphor was used which the country-bred minister's +daughter could not elucidate, nor could she comprehend how young ladies, +unmarried as she herself was, could know so much about things which +marriage alone is supposed to reveal. + +Once or twice she had requested an explanation of some of these obscure +points, but her request had been met, first by a dead silence, then by a +laugh, and an inquiry whether she had no young married friends, and also +whether she had ever read the works of Paul Féval, Dumas, and +Balzac--all of which gave her little enlightenment, but taught her to +keep her mouth shut, and open her eyes and ears wider. + +One day when "Aunt Margaret" had invited her to a _tête-à-tête_ in the +boudoir, it occurred to Cornelia, in the wisdom of her heart, to take +advantage of the opportunity to introduce the subject. She was a widow: +was very good-natured; would be sure not to laugh at her, and could +hardly help knowing as much as the young ladies knew. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Vanderplanck, as Cornelia entered, "such a +relief--such a _refreshment_ to look at that sweet face of yours! There! +I must have my _kiss_, you know. Yes, I was just thinking of you, my +love--so longing to have a quiet _chat_ with you--your dear +father!--such a _grand_ man he is! _such genius_! Oh! _I_ was his +devoted. Tell me all about him, and that sweet _home_ of yours, and +_dear_ little Sophie, too. Oh! I was so shocked, so terrified, to hear +of her illness; and--let me see!--oh, yes, and that new pupil your papa +has--Mr. Bressant--_how_ is he? _does_ he behave well? _is_ he pleasant? +_do_ you see much of him? _does_ he keep himself quiet?--such a--" + +"Why! how did you know about him?" interrupted Cornelia, into Mrs. +Vanderplanck's ever-ready ear-trumpet. "Is he a relation of yours, or +any thing?" + +Aunt Margaret stopped short, and pressed her thin, wide lips together. +She had never imagined but that Professor Valeyon had told his daughters +through whose immediate instrumentality it was that Bressant made his +appearance at the Parsonage; but finding, from Cornelia's questions, +that this was not so, she bethought herself that it might be well for +her young guest to remain in ignorance, at least for the present. It was +not too late, and, after a scarcely-perceptible pause, she made answer: + +"It was in your dear papa's _answer_ to my invitation, my love. Oh! so +shocked I was dear little Sophie couldn't come--lay awake _all_ that +night with a headache--yes, _indeed_!--when he _wrote_ to me, you +know--such a dear, noble letter it _was_, too! Oh! I read it over a +dozen--_twenty_ times at least!--he mentioned this new pupil of +his--seemed interested in him--of course I _can't_ help being interested +in whatever interests any of you dear ones, you know--he mentioned his +strange name and all--it _is_ a strange name, isn't it, love?" + +"It isn't his real name," interposed Cornelia; "nobody except papa knows +who he is. It's just like one of those ancient names, you know--the +Christian name and the surname in one." + +"Oh, yes, I see--so odd, isn't it?--such a _mystery_, and all +that--yes--so that's how I came to speak of him, I suppose. One gets +_ideas_ of a person that way sometimes, don't you know, though they may +never have actually _seen_ them at all? Oh! when I was a _young_ thing, +I was just full of those--_ideals, I_ used to call them--oh, you know +all about it, I _dare_ say!" + +"He met with a very serious accident just before I came away," said +Cornelia to the ear-trumpet; "he stopped Dolly--our horse--she was +running away with papa in the wagon. He saved papa beautifully, but he +was dreadfully hurt--his collar-bone was broken, and he was kicked, and +almost killed. He's at our house now, and papa's taking care of him." + +At this information Aunt Margaret became very white, or rather +bloodless, in the face. She allowed the ear-trumpet to hang by its +silver chain from her neck, and, reaching out her hand to a recess in +the writing-table at which she sat, she drew forth a small ebony box, +set in silver, and carved all over with little figures in bass-relief. +Opening it, she took out a few grains of some dark substance which the +box contained, and slipped them eagerly into her large mouth, Cornelia +watched her out of the corner of her eyes, and, being a physician's +daughter, she drew her own conclusions. + +"Ho, ho! that's where your sick-headaches, and yellow complexion, and +nervousness, and weak eyes, come from, is it? You'd better look out! +that's morphine, or opium, or some such thing, I know; and papa says +that old ladies like you, who use such drugs, are liable to get insane +after a while, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if you were to become +insane, Aunt Margaret!" + +This agreeable prophecy, being confined solely to Cornelia's thoughts, +was naturally inaudible to Mrs. Vanderplanck. She murmured something +about her doctor having prescribed medicine to be taken at that hour, +and then, the medicine appearing to have an immediate and salutary +effect, she found her color and her voice again, and took up the +conversation. + +"Shocking! oh, shocking! _so_ sad for the poor young man--no +father--no--no mother there to care for him. He _it_ an orphan, is he +not?--no relatives, I suppose--no one who _belongs_ to him, poor boy! +Dear, dear!--but he's _not_ fatally injured, is he?--not fatally?" + +"Oh, no," replied Cornelia, whose opinion of Aunt Margaret's character +was much improved by this evidently sincere sympathy in the suffering of +some one she had never seen--"oh, no; papa says he'll be all well in +three months." + +"And he's staying at your house, and under your dear father's care?" + +"Yes, he is now. Before his accident he was boarding at Abbie's, down in +the village. She would have been very kind to him, of course, but I +suppose he'd rather be at our house, because papa can always be at +hand." + +While Cornelia was delivering this into the black ear-trumpet, she +turned her eyes away from Aunt Margaret's face, being in truth somewhat +embarrassed at talking so much about the man who had her heart. +Consequently she did not observe the expression which crossed her +companion's face at her mention of the modest name of the boarding-house +keeper. Her features seemed to contract and sharpen, and there was +positively a glitter in her watery eyes, seemingly mingled of +consternation, astonishment, and hatred. In another moment the +expression had passed away, or was softened into one of nervous alarm +and anxiety; and even this, when she spoke, was wellnigh effaced. + +"Certainly--yes, _certainly_! your dear father--_what_ a wise man he is! +he _has_ such a profound knowledge of medicine and surgery--all those +things--so prudent, so careful! Still, a woman is a treasure, you +know--a good, sensible, efficient woman is a _host_--oh, yes, in a +sick-room. This boarding-house keeper, now--she's just such a person, I +_dare_ say--elderly, sober, experienced--a married woman, probably, with +a large family, no doubt? Abbie, Abbie! what _did_ you say her last name +was, my love?" + +Cornelia was so much amused at the idea of Abbie's being a married +woman with a large family that she did not observe how Aunt Margaret, +awaiting her answer, was all in a tremble. If she had not been laughing, +she could scarcely have helped seeing how the ear-trumpet shook as it +was presented to her. + +"Oh, no," said she, "she's not married, Aunt Margaret--at least not now, +though I believe she's a widow, or something of that kind, you know--and +she hasn't any children at all! As to her other name, I don't know it, +and I believe hardly any one does. You see, she's one of that queer sort +of people; she's very quiet, and always grave, and nobody knows much +about her, except that she's very good, and has lived in the village for +twenty years and more. I believe, though, papa has met her before, or +knows something about her in some way; but he never says any thing to us +on the subject." + +This was all that could be got out of Cornelia upon the topic of Abbie, +and Mrs. Vanderplauck was obliged to swallow whatever uneasiness, +curiosity, or misgiving she may have felt. In the midst of an +exhortation to her young guest to repeat her visit daily to the boudoir, +and regale her auntie with anecdotes of the dear old, interesting people +in the village, Abbie and all, some one of the young ladies knocked at +the door, and hurried Miss Valeyon off, without her having asked, as +she had intended, for an explanation of the puzzling, metaphorical +allusions. + +Mrs. Vanderplanck, left to herself, rocked backward and forward in her +chair, with her hands clasped over her forehead, much in the way that an +insane person might have done. + +"Who'd have thought it! who'd have thought it! In the very +village--in the very house--of all places in the world!--in the very +house!--and he laid up--can't be moved--can't be taken away. Why didn't +I know?--why didn't I find out?--careless--stupid--thoughtless! Curse +the woman! couldn't I have imagined that she'd never be far away from +her dear professor--and we sent him there--we hid him away--we disguised +his name--college was too public for him--let him finish his +education in the country--and then we could escape away--to +Germany--France--anywhere--and carry all the money with us--all the +money!--half for me, and half for him!--and what'll become of it now? +Curse the woman! I knew she couldn't be dead. But she sha'n't have the +money--no! she sha'n't, she sha'n't! + +"Is it possible, now?--could it be that that girl was deceiving me? Did +she know the woman's name, after all?--no, no! she hasn't the face for +it--no hypocrite in her yet--not yet, not yet! Well, but what if it's +all a mistake?--Why not a mistake? why not?--tell me that! Plenty of +women called Abbie, aren't there? Why shouldn't this be one of them--one +of the others? No, but the professor had known her before--oh, +yes!--known her before! and there's only one Abbie that the professor +knew before! Curse her--curse her! + +"Well, what if she is there? how will she know _him_? The professor +won't tell her--he can't--he dare not tell her!--for I made him promise +he wouldn't, and I've got his promise, written down--written down!--Ah! +that was smart--that was smart! Yes, but the boy looks like his +father!--that'll betray him!--she'll know him by that--know him? well, +just as bad--yes, and worse too, in the end--worse! Oh! curse her! + +"Never mind. I know how to manage. If the worst comes to the worst, I +know what to do! And I must write to him--not now--as soon as he's +well--he must come away. Even if it should turn out all a mistake, he +must come away!--I'll write to him, as soon as he's well, that he must +come away. And I'll question Cornelia again--ah! she's a handsome +girl!--it's well I got her up here, out of the way!--I'll find out more +from her. It may be a mistake, after all--it may, it may!" + +While Aunt Margaret, sitting in her boudoir, thus took doubtful and +disconnected counsel with herself, Cornelia was left to manage her +little difficulties as best she might. Being tolerably quick in +observing, and putting things together, and unwilling to trust to +intuitive judgments of what was safe or unsafe in the moral atmosphere, +she set to work with all her wits, and not without some measure of +success, to fathom the secrets of the tantalizing freemasonry which +piqued her curiosity. By listening to all that was said, laughing when +others laughed, keeping silent when she was puzzled, comparing results +and drawing deductions, she presently began to understand a good deal +more than she had bargained for, was considerably shocked and disgusted, +and perhaps felt desirous to unlearn what she had learned. + +But this was not so easy. Things she would willingly have forgotten +seemed, for that very reason, to stick in her memory--nay, in some moods +of mind, to appear less entirely objectionable than in others. She had +little opportunity for solitude--to bethink herself where she stood, and +how she came there. During the daytime, there were the young ladies, +here, there, and everywhere; there could be no seclusion. In the +afternoons and evenings some admiring, soft-voiced young gentleman was +always at her side, offering her his arm on the faintest pretext, or +attempting to put it round her waist on no pretext at all; who always +found it more convenient to murmur in her ear, than to speak out from a +reasonable distance; whose hands were always getting into proximity with +hers, and often attempting to clasp them; whose eyes were forever +expressing something earnest or arch, pleading or romantic--though +precisely what, his lingering utterance scarcely tried to define; who +never could "see the harm" of these and many other peculiarities of +behavior; and, indeed it was not very easy to argue about them, although +the young gentlemen never shrank from the dispute, and never failed to +have on hand an inexhaustible assortment of syllogisms to combat any +remonstrance that might be advanced withal; while at the worst they +could always be surprised and hurt if their conduct were called into +question. Well, they appeared to be refined and high-bred. Compare them +with Bill Reynolds! And the flattery of their attention, and the +preference they gave her over the other girls, were not entirely lost +upon Cornelia. + +In the absence of both gentlemen and ladies, there, on an +easily-accessible shelf in the library, were those works of Dumas, +Féval, and the rest, to which Cornelia's attention had been indirectly +invited. She had a sound knowledge of the French language, and an +ardent love of fiction, and beyond question the books were of absorbing +interest. + +At first, indeed, Cornelia, as she read, would ever and anon blush, and +look around apprehensively, for fear there should be an observer +somewhere; and this, too, at passages which a week before she would have +passed over without noticing, because not understanding them. If any one +appeared, she hid the book away in the folds of her dress, or under the +sofa-cushion, and put on the air of having just awakened from a nap. +By-and-by, however, when she had become a little used to the tone of the +works, and had asked herself, what were the books put there for, unless +to be read, she plucked up courage, as her young friends would have +said--albeit angels might have wept at it--and overcame her notions so +far as to be able to take down from its shelf and become deeply +interested in one of the Frenchiest of the set, while three or four +people were sitting in the library! + +A triumph that! Howbeit, when she went to bed that night there was a +persistent pain of dry unhappiness in her heart, and a self-contemptuous +feeling, which she tried to get the better of by calling it _ennui_. But +in time a kind of hardness, at once flexible and impenetrable, began to +encase her, rendering her course more easy, less liable to +embarrassment, more self-confident than before. + +At length a crisis was brought on by the attempt of the boldest of her +admirers to kiss her. She repelled him passionately, facing him with +gleaming eyes, and lips white with anger and disgust. He was surprised, +at first--then angry; but she spoke to him in a way that cowed, and +finally almost made him ashamed of himself. He even went so far, +afterward, as to try to knock a fellow down for speaking disrespectfully +of "Neelie." For her own part, she locked herself into her room, and +cried tempestuously for half an hour; then she spent a still longer time +in lying with her heated face upon the pillow, reviewing the incidents +of her life since Bressant had entered into it. He was the superior of +any man she had met before or since: she was sure of it now; it could no +longer be called the infatuation of inexperience. She took herself well +to task for the recent laxity and imprudence of her conduct; did not +spare to cut where the flesh was tender; and resolved never again to lay +herself open to blame. + +This was very well, but the mood was too strained and exalted to be +depended upon. Cornelia got up from the disordered bed, put it to rights +again, washed her stained face carefully, rearranged her hair, and went +down-stairs. All that afternoon she was cold, grave, and reserved; +inquiries after her health met with a chilling answer, and her friends +wisely concluded to leave her malady, whatever it were, to the cure of +time. As dinner progressed, Cornelia began to thaw: when Mr. Grumblow, +the member of Congress, requested her, with solemn and oppressive +courtesy, to do him the honor of taking a glass of wine with him, she +responded graciously; and as the toasts circulated, she first looked +upon her ideal resolves with good-humored tolerance, and then they +escaped her memory altogether. She became once more lively and +sparkling, and carried on what she imagined was a very brilliant +conversation with two or three people at once. By the time she was +ready to retire, she had practised anew the whole list of her +lately-abrogated accomplishments; and she wound up by picking the French +novel out of the corner into which she had disdainfully thrown it twelve +hours before, reading it in bed until she fell asleep, and dreaming that +she was its heroine. And yet she had not forgotten to wind up Bressant's +watch, and put it in its usual place under her pillow. + +It might seem strange that his memory should not have kept her beyond +the reach of deleterious influences. But a young girl's love is any +thing but a preservative, if it shall yield her, in any aspect, other +than such pure and delicate thoughts as she would not scruple to whisper +in her mother's ear, or to ask God's blessing on at night. Should there +be any circumstance or incident, however seemingly trifling and +unimportant, in her reminiscences, which nevertheless keeps recurring to +the mind with a slight twinge of regret--a feeling that it would have +been just as well had it never happened--then is love a dangerous +companion. Gradually does the trifling spot grow upon her; in trying to +justify it, she succeeds only in lowering the whole idea of love to its +level; and this once accomplished, in all future intercourse with her +lover she must be undefended by the shield of her maidenly integrity. +And not all men are great enough not to presume on woman's weakness, +even though it be that woman, to assert whose honor and purity they +would risk their lives against the world. + +Some such quality of earthiness Cornelia may have felt in the course of +her acquaintance with Bressant, preventing her love from ennobling and +elevating her. Alas! if it were so. If she cannot draw a high +inspiration from the affection which must be her loftiest sentiment, +what shall be her safeguard, and who her champion? + +In the course of ten days or a fortnight, Aunt Margaret announced that +the condition of her head would admit of traveling, and the +long-expected tour began. But the more important consequences of +Cornelia's fashionable experiences had already taken place. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +SOPHIE'S CONFESSION. + + +Sophie did not stay long in the invalid's room after the awakening they +had undergone with respect to one another. She went instinctively to her +father's study, and, entering the open door, kissed the old man ere he +was well aware of her presence. He took her affectionately upon his +knee, and hugged her up to him with homely tenderness. + +"My precious little daughter!" quoth he; "what would your old father do +without you?" + +"Am I so much to you, papa?" asked she, with her cheek resting upon his +shoulder. + +"Very much--very much, Sophie: too much, perhaps; for I don't see how I +could bear to lose you." + +"Do you mean to have me die, papa?" + +"How is your sick boy getting along?" returned the professor, clearing +his throat, and not seeming to hear his daughter's words. + +Sophie caught a breath, and paled a little at the thought of the news +she had to tell about the sick boy. Her father had just told her she was +precious to him, and she felt that to be married might involve a +separation virtually as complete as that of death, and perhaps harder to +bear. But, again, she needed his sympathy and approval: and, sooner or +later, he must hear the truth. She was not, perhaps, aware that +etiquette should have closed her lips upon the subject until after +Bressant had spoken to the professor; at all events, she had no +intention of delegating or postponing her confidence. + +"He seemed quite well when I left him. I have been having a--talk with +him, papa." + +"He begins to show the effects of being talked to by you, my dear. +You're a wise little woman in some ways, that's certain! and have done +him good in more ways than one," said papa, with parental complacency. + +Sophie shrank at this, remembering how lately she had fed herself with +the same idea. She had learned a great deal about herself since +discovering how little of herself she knew. + +"He is a--man!" said she, trying to throw into the word an expression of +its best and loftiest meaning. "I can do very little to help him." + +"Hope to see him a man some day, my dear," returned the professor, +gathering his eyebrows. "Has a great many faults at present. Why, in +some respects, he's as ignorant and inexperienced as a child. Very +one-sided affair still, I fear, that soul of his!" + +"One-sided, papa?" + +"Yes: don't believe it would carry him very far toward heaven, as it is +now," said the old gentleman, whose severity of judgment was cultivated +in this instance as a preservative against possible disappointment. "He +needs melting in a crucible." + +"What does that mean?" + +"If you weren't a wise little woman, as I said, I shouldn't be talking +about my pupil's character and management with you, my dear. But I can +trust you as well as if you were forty;" and here he gave her another +little hug, which made Sophie feel like a receiver of stolen goods. +"Well, now, theorizing won't do a young fellow like that much good. He +needs something real--that he can take hold of, and that'll take hold of +him. You and I can't give it him--not more than an impetus in the right +direction, at any rate. But the only thing that can make his future +tolerably secure--make it safe to count upon him (or upon any other man, +for that matter), is for him to fall heartily and soundly in love, in +the old-fashioned way, and with a strong-hearted, worthy woman." + +"O papa! do you really think marriage will help him to be greater and +better?" + +"It's the only thing for him, my dear," said Professor Valeyon; and, +although he was looking his guilty little daughter straight in the face, +and at such short range, too, this would-be sharp-sighted old man of +wisdom never thought to ask himself why she blushed so. "As soon as he +gets well again, I must see to getting him somewhere where he can have a +chance to profit by what we have done for him." + +"Papa," said Sophie, sitting up, and stroking the old gentleman's white +beard, "you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you think that to +love and to be loved will be good for him." + +"So anxious to get rid of him, eh?" + +"No; oh! papa, don't you see? it's because--because I _never_ want to +get rid of him!" and Sophie, catching her father suddenly around the +neck, hid her face in his linen coat-collar. + +The professor, his features discharged of all expression, sat +stone-still, looking straight before him. Had Death been embracing him, +instead of his daughter, he could hardly have been struck more +motionless. Existence, spiritual as well as physical, seemed for a space +to have come to a stand-still. + +By-and-by, startled at his silence, Sophie raised her head and looked at +him with alarmed eyes. With an effort, he turned his face toward her, +and smiled as naturally as though his mouth had been frozen. + +"I'm an old man, you see, my dear: a surprise like this makes me feel +it," he made shift to say, in an uncertain voice. "So--you're engaged to +each other?" + +"We're waiting for you to say we may be, papa." + +"It is right--it is just!" said the professor, solemnly, though still +with a sluggish utterance. "I sought to glorify God to the end of mine +own glorification, and lo! He hath taken from me my own heart's blood!" +Swept off his feet by the profundity of his emotion, the ministerial +form of speech, so long disused, rose naturally to the old man's lips. + +But presently, the paralyzing effect of the shock beginning to wear off, +he drew a few long breaths, and found himself growing very hot. He took +out his handkerchief and wiped away the perspiration that had gathered +on his forehead. Then he took his little daughter strongly yet +tremblingly to his heart, and kissed her more than once. + +"God bless you! my darling--my Sophie--you're my Sophie still, if you +are in love with that--great overgrown rascal. I'm a fool--an old fool! +Well--and how long has this been going on between you, my darling?" + +Sophie's heart, which, in the passionate tumult of her recent interview +with her lover, had remained so steady and unfaltering, began now to +beat with such violence as to impede her utterance and visibly to shake +her. She was resolved to show herself to her father even as she was. + +"I hardly can say how long, papa--I think--I think it must have been +a--a long time--at least, on my side. Oh! I have been so false--so false +to myself, and so unwomanly! I have courted him, papa--_I_, papa--think +of it! I've thrown myself in his way, and--and made him interested in +me; and talked to him about things that--no one but his mother, or you, +should have done. Poor fellow!--I've forced myself upon him, papa. I +took advantage of his illness and helplessness, and pretended all the +time I was thinking only of his spiritual welfare, and--and not of--of +any thing else. That was the wickedest part. And yet, somehow, I +deceived myself too--or, rather, I wouldn't see the truth: and I didn't +know--papa, I really believe I didn't know that I--loved him, till +he--till he began to speak of it; then it seemed suddenly to fill all my +heart, as if it had always lived there. For I succeeded, papa: I've won +his love, and, oh! he loves me so! he loves me so! and so I've found my +punishment in my happiness. God is so just and good. The happier his +love makes me, you see, the more I shall be humbled to think how it +became mine. It is well for me, for I was proud and reserved and full of +self-conceit. And you really think it will not hurt him to love me, and +to have me love him, papa?" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" growled the old gentleman, testily; "hurt him!" + +But the professor was really a very wise man, in spite of his occasional +blindness; and he refrained from showing Sophie the exaggeration and +distortion which marked the view she took of her conduct. He saw it +would involve lowering the high integrity of her ideal conceptions +respecting delicacy and honor--hardly worth while, merely for the sake +of explaining the distinction between a trifling piece of self-deception +and mistaken vanity, and the severe and unrelenting sentence which +Sophie had passed upon herself. Meanwhile, every word she had uttered +had been an indirect, but none the less telling blow upon a sore place +in his own conscience. It was long since Professor Valeyon had stood so +low in his own self-esteem. + +They sat awhile in silence, Sophie nestling up to her father as if +seeking protection from the very love that had come to her; and he +sighed, and sighed again, and coughed, and pulled his nose and his +beard, and finally blew his nose. Then, depositing Sophie upon her feet, +he got slowly up, stretched himself, and went for his pipe. + +"Run off, my dear. Go up in your room, or out in the garden, or +somewhere. I must be alone a little while, you know; must think it all +over, and see how things stand. Besides, I must step in and see this +fellow who's going to rob me of my daughter, and tell him what I think +of him. Come, off with you!" + +"You'll be happy about it--you'll forgive us, won't you, papa?" she +said, turning at the door. + +The old gentleman shuffled heavily up to her, and kissed her on the +forehead. + +"God bless you, and God's will be done, my darling!" said he; but at +that moment he could say no more. + +An hour afterward, however, when the professor knocked the ashes out of +his second pipe, and laid his hand upon the latch of Bressant's door, +the expression upon his strongly-cut features was neither gloomy nor +severe. There was a look in his eyes of benignant sweetness, all the +more impressive because it made one wonder how it could find a place +beneath such stern eyebrows and so deeply lined a forehead. But, cutting +off an offending right hand, although a bitter piece of work enough for +the time being, may, in its after-effect, work as gracious a miracle in +an older and more forbidding gentleman even than Professor Valeyon. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +A FLANK MOVEMENT. + + +Bressant was lying comfortably upon his bed with his eyes closed; no one +would have imagined there had been any outburst or convulsion of passion +in his mental or emotional organism. He breathed easily; there was a +pale tint of red in his cheeks, above his close, brown beard; his +forehead was slightly moist, and his pulse, on which the surgeon laid +his finger with professional instinct, beat quietly and regularly. In +entering upon the world of love, all marks of wounds received upon the +journey seemed to have passed away. + +He opened his eyes at the professor's touch, and fixed them upon the old +gentleman in such a serene stare of untroubled complacency as one +sometimes receives from a baby nine months old. + +"Well, sir"--the professor, from some subtle delicacy of feeling +respecting the prospective change in their relationship, adopted this +form of address in preference to that more paternal one he had been in +the habit of using since Bressant's accident--"well, sir, how do you +find yourself now?" + +"Much better; I shall soon be well now. I feel differently from ever +before--very light and full here," said the young man, indicating the +region of his heart. + +"I've seen Sophie," observed Professor Valeyon, after a somewhat long +silence, which Bressant, who had calmly closed his eyes again, showed no +intention of breaking. + +"Sophie and I love each other," responded he, meditatively, and rather +to himself than to the father. The latter could not but feel some +surprise at the untroubled confidence the young man's manner displayed. +Before he could put his thought into fitting words, the other spoke +again. + +"I've been thinking, I should like to marry her." + +"You'd like to marry her?" repeated the old gentleman, with a mixture of +sternness and astonishment, his forehead reddening. "What else do you +suppose I expected, sir?" + +Bressant turned over on his side, and regarded him with some curiosity. + +"Do all people who love each other, or because they love each other, +marry?" demanded he. + +For a moment, the professor seemed to suspect some latent satire in this +question; but the young man's face convinced him to the contrary. + +"In many marriages, there's little love--true love--on either side; +that's certain," said he, passing his hand down his face, and looking +grave. "But marriage was ordained for none but lovers." + +"The reason I want to be married to Sophie is because I love her so much +I couldn't live without her," resumed Bressant, as if stating some +unusual circumstance. + +"Humph!" ejaculated the professor, partly amused and partly puzzled. + +Bressant rubbed his forehead, and fingered his beard awhile, and then +continued: + +"We've been reading poetry lately, and romances, and such things. I used +to think they were nonsense--good for nothing; because they came out so +beautifully, and represented love to be so great an element in the +world. But now I see they were not good enough; they are much below the +truth; I mean to write poetry and romances myself!" + +This tickled Professor Valeyon so much, that he burst out in a most +genuine laugh. The intellectual animal of two or three months before +seemed to have laid aside all claims to what his brain had won for him, +and to be beginning existence over again with a new object and new +materials. And had Bressant indeed been a child, the succession of his +ideas and impulses could hardly have been more primitive and natural. + +"What's to become of our Hebrew and history, if you turn poet?" inquired +the old gentleman, still chuckling. + +Bressant turned his head away and closed his eyes wearily. "I don't want +any thing more to do with that," said he. "Love is study enough, and +work enough, for a lifetime. Mathematics, and logic, and philosophy--all +those things have nothing to do with love, and couldn't help me in it. +It's outside of every thing else: it has laws of its own: I'm just +beginning to learn them." + +"A professional lover! well, as long as you recognize the sufficiency of +one object in your studies, you might do worse, that's certain. But you +can't make a living out of it, my boy." + +"I don't need money, I have enough; if I hadn't, money-making is for +men without hearts; but mine is bigger than my head; I must give myself +up to it." + +"That won't do," returned the professor, shaking his head. "Lovers must +earn their bread-and-butter as well as people with brains. Besides," +here his face and tone became serious, "there's one thing we've both +forgotten. This matter of your false name--you can't be married as +Bressant, you know: and if the tenure of your property depends, as you +said, on preserving the _incognito_, I have reason to believe that you +stand an excellent chance of losing every cent of it, the moment the +minister has pronounced your real name." + +"No matter!" said the young man, with an impatient movement, as if to +dismiss an unprofitable subject. "I shall have Sophie; my father's will +can't deprive me of her. I don't want to be famous, nor to have a great +reputation--except with her." + +The old man was touched at this devotion, unreasonable and impracticable +though it was. He laid his hand kindly on the invalid's big shoulder. + +"I don't say but that a wife's a good exchange for the world, my boy; +I'm glad you should feel it, too. But when you marry her, you promise to +support her, as long as you have strength and health to do it. It's a +natural and necessary consequence of your love for her"--and here the +professor paused a moment to marvel at the position in which he found +himself--stating the first axioms of life to such a man as this pupil of +his; "and you should be unwilling to take her, as I certainly should be +to give her, on any other terms. If your hands are empty, you must at +any rate be able to show that they won't always continue so." + +"Well, but I don't want to think about that just now; I can be a farmer, +or a clerk; I can make a living with my body, if I can't with my mind; +and I can write to Mrs. Vanderplanck, some time, and find out just how +things are." + +"Very well--very well! or perhaps I'd better write to her +myself--well--and as long as you are on your back, there'll be no use in +troubling you with business--that's certain! And perhaps things may turn +out better than they look, in the end." + +As Professor Valeyon pronounced this latter sentence, he smiled to +himself pleasantly and mysteriously. He seemed to fancy he had stronger +grounds for believing in a happy issue, than, for some reason, he was at +liberty to disclose. And the smile lingered about the corners of his +mouth and eyes, as if the issue in question were to be of that +peculiarly harmonious kind usually supposed to be reserved for the +themes of poems, or the conclusions of novels. + +"I never was interested to hear of the every-day lives of men who have +loved, and wanted to make their way in the world; for I never expected I +should be such a man. Now, I'm sorry; it would have been useful to me, +wouldn't it?" + +"Perhaps it might," responded the old gentleman, musing at the change in +the attitude of the young man's mind--once so self-sufficient and +assertive, now so dependent and inexperienced. "Very few lives are bare +and empty enough not to teach one something worth knowing. I know the +events of one man's life," he added, after a few moments of thoughtful +consideration; "perhaps it might lead to some good, if I were to tell +them to yon." + +"Did he marry a woman he loved?" demanded Bressant. + +"You can judge better of that when you hear what happened before his +marriage," returned the professor, apparently a little put out by the +abruptness of the question. "He made several mistakes in life; most of +them because he didn't pay respect enough to circumstances; thought that +to adhere to fixed principles was the whole duty of a man: nothing to be +allowed to the accidents of life, or to the various and unaccountable +natures of men, their uncertainty, fallibility, and so on. One of the +first resolutions he made--and he's never broken it, for when he grew +wise enough to do so, the opportunity had gone by forever--was never to +leave his native country. He wanted to prove to himself, and to +everybody else whom it might concern, that a man of fair abilities might +become learned and wise, without ever helping himself to the good things +that lay beyond the shadow of his native flag. 'The majority of people +have to live where they are born,' was his argument; 'I'll be their +representative.' Well, that would seem all well enough; but it stood in +his way twice--each time lost him an opportunity that has never come +again--the opportunity to be distinguished, and perhaps great; and the +opportunity to have a happy home, and a luxurious one. It was better for +him, no doubt, that his life was a hard and disappointed one, instead +of--as it might have been; he's had blessings enough, that's certain; +but he has much to regret, too; the more, because the ill effects of a +man's folly and willfulness fall upon his friends quite as often, and +sometimes more heavily, than upon himself. + +"He was a poor man in college, and an orphan. The property of his family +had been lost in the War of 1812; from then till he was twenty-one, he +had followed a dozen trades, and saved a couple of hundred dollars; and +he'd picked up book-learning enough to enter the sophomore class. The +first thing he did was to make a friend; he loved him with his whole +heart; thought nothing was too good for him, and so on. He and his +friend led the class for three years; and up to the time of the last +examination, he was first and his friend second. In the examination they +sat side by side; one question the friend couldn't answer; the other +wrote it out for him; after the examination the two papers were found to +be alike in the answer to that question, and the friend was summoned +before the faculty, and asked if he had copied it. He denied it--said it +had been copied from him; so he took the first rank in graduating, and +the other was dropped several places." + +"What became of their friendship after that?" inquired Bressant. + +"He I'm telling you of never knew any thing of what his friend had done +till long afterward. Well, the faculty and some of the wealthy patrons +of the university determined to send the first scholar abroad, to finish +his education: he accepted the offer eagerly, and sailed for Europe, +without bidding his friend good-by. Afterward, the faculty made the same +offer to him, on the consideration that he had stood so well, during his +course, until the examination. But he declined it: it was contrary to +his principle of never leaving his country." + +"What sort of a man was the friend?" asked Bressant, who was paying +close attention, with his hand at his ear. + +"Clever, with a winning manner, and fine-looking; had a pleasant, easy +voice; never lost his temper that I know of." The professor paused, +perhaps to arrange his ideas, ere he went on. "The man I'm telling you +of left the college-yard with as much of the world before him as lies +between the fifteenth and twenty-fifth parallels of latitude, and the +Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. He'd made up his mind to be a physician; +and in a year he was qualified to enter the hospital; worked there four +years, and, by the time he was twenty-nine, he had an office of his own +and a good practice. + +"At last, he fell in love with a beautiful woman; she was the daughter +of one of his patients--a Southerner with a little Spanish blood in him. +The young doctor had--under Providence--saved the man's life; and, since +he himself came of a good family--none better--and had a respectable +income, there wasn't much difficulty in arranging the match. The only +condition was, that the father should never be out of reach of his +daughter, as long as he lived." + +"Was this Southerner rich?" + +"Very rich; and a dowry would go with the daughter enough to make them +more than independent for the rest of their lives. Well, just about that +time, the friend who had gone to Europe came back. He'd done well +abroad, and-was qualified for a high position at home. He was engaged to +marry a stylish, aristocratic girl, who was not, however, wealthy. But +he seemed very glad to see the doctor, and the doctor certainly was to +see him, and invited him to stay at his house a while, and he introduced +him into the house of his intended wife." + +Here the professor broke off from his story, and, getting up from his +chair, he passed two or three times up and down the room; stopping at +the window to pull a leaf from the extended branch of a cherry-tree +growing outside, and again, by the empty fireplace, to roll the leaf up +between his finger and thumb, and throw it upon the hearth. When he +returned to the bedside, he dropped himself into his chair with the +slow, inelastic heaviness of age. + +"The fellow played him a scurvy trick," resumed he, presently. "Exactly +what he said or did will never be known, but it was all he safely could +to put his friend in a bad light. It was because he wanted the young +lady for himself; he was ambitious, and needed her money to help him on. +What he said made a good deal of impression on the father; but the +daughter wouldn't believe it then--at any rate, she loved the doctor +still, and would, as long as she knew he loved her." + +"Why didn't the other manage to make her think he didn't?" + +"Well, sir, he did manage it," returned the professor, compressing his +white-bearded lips, and lowering his eyebrows. "He told the father some +story of having met relations of his in Spain; told him the climate +would cure him of all his ailments, without need of a physician, and +persuaded him to make the journey at last. The doctor heard of it first +by a note written by his intended father-in-law. It contained no +request nor encouragement to accompany them--of course, the daughter was +to go too; her father wouldn't separate from her. But the doctor's +friend had not trusted only to that: he knew that the other's resolution +never to leave his country was not likely to be broken, so he was quite +secure." + +"And the doctor knew nothing of how his friend was cheating him?" + +"No, not then. Far from it; he showed him the letter, and asked him for +advice. He never dreamed of doubting his constancy, either to himself or +to the girl he was engaged to marry. His friend counseled him to write a +letter to her he meant to make his wife, explaining his position, and +asking her not to leave him. He would carry it to her, and advocate it +himself, he said, and do all in his power to influence the father. The +young doctor didn't altogether relish this course, nevertheless he +trusted in his friend, wrote the letter, and gave it into his hands. + +"He never saw his friend after that day. The next morning came an answer +from the young lady--a cruel and cold rejection of him--repudiation of +his love, and a doubt of his honor. It bewildered him, and, for a time, +crushed him. Long afterward, he found out that she had never seen the +letter he wrote, but a very different one, of his friend's concoction. + +"Very soon afterward, they were gone--all three! and, before a year was +passed, he heard that his friend and the daughter were married, and the +father died of a fever contracted in Spain. + +"He tried to go on as usual for several months, but it was no use. At +last, he left his practice, and all his connections, and wandered over +the United States--through towns and wildernesses. He rode across the +plains on a mustang; clambered through the gorges of the Rocky +Mountains; saw the tide come in through the Golden Gate at San +Francisco. He pushed north as far as Canada, and thence came down the +Mississippi to New Orleans. From there he crossed to the Pacific coast +again, and lived to find himself a second time in San Francisco. He +didn't stay there long, but struck overland, slanting southward, and, in +four or five months, appeared at Charleston, South Carolina. So he +worked up the Atlantic coast to New York. By the time he got there, he +was older and wiser, and strengthened, body and mind, by a rough +experience. He resolved to travel no more; but, as yet, it was not in +his power to feel happy. + +"Much had happened in his absence. His friend, after living three or +four years with his wife in Europe, was separated from her--not, +however, by a regular divorce--and she had disappeared, and had not +since been heard of. It was reported that she was dead. She had left +with her husband a son, two or three years old, at that time a sickly +little fellow, scarcely expected to live. It was supposed that the +mother had discovered that it was her money, and not herself, that her +husband cared for, and, perhaps, too, may have imagined him to be still +thinking of his first love, who, indeed, was said to have in some way +fomented the quarrel between them, though how, or to what end, was never +known. She, by-the-way, after an absence of some years from New York, +suddenly reappeared there, and married a wealthy old Knickerbocker, who +died not long afterward, and left her his property. She became eminent +in society, and was intimate with all the most distinguished people. Her +former lover returned from Europe, with his little son, and, I believe, +settled somewhere in the neighborhood of New York. They met, and, I +understand, came to be on very friendly terms with one another, but the +conditions of their lives would have prevented the possibility of +marriage, even had they desired it. + +"Well, it was before the old Knickerbocker's death that he I am telling +you of first arrived in the city. He gave up medicine, and devoted +himself to other studies; and, in the course of a few years, he found +himself occupying the chairs of History and of Science at the University +of New York. He also paid some attention to politics, and became, for a +while, a person of really considerable renown and distinction. He was +respected by the most influential persons in the city. Among the rest, +he became acquainted with the widow--as she was by this time--of the +Knickerbocker--and she showed him every kindness and attention. But he +did her the injustice of not believing her kindness genuine; he imagined +that she cared for nothing but fashion and display, and was polite to +him only because she thought he would add a little to her drawing-rooms. +At length, a sudden weariness of his mode of life coming over him, he +resigned his public positions, and his professorships, and took lodgings +in the family of a poor clergyman in Boston. While there, he took up the +study of divinity, and, before long, was fully qualified for ordination. +But, at this time, he fell, all at once, dangerously ill, and lay at +death's door. + +"He owed his life to the care that the daughter of the clergyman took of +him. She was a sweet, gentle girl, a good deal younger than he; but she +grew to love him--perhaps because she had saved him from death. When he +recovered, they were married, and found a great deal of happiness; there +was no more passionate love, for him, of course; but he could feel +gratitude, and tenderness, and a steady and deep affection. They had two +children, and when they were five or six years old, the parents moved to +the country, and took a house in an out-of-the-way village." + +"Is that all?" demanded Bressant, eying the professor's face with great +intentness. + +"There's not much more. One of the first persons the minister--such he +was now--met, on his entrance into the village, was the woman he had +loved first--the wife of his false friend--she whom he had long believed +dead. She had settled, several years before, in this place, whither he +had unawares followed her. In an interview--the first for nearly half a +lifetime--all the old errors and falsehoods were cleared up. She told +him how her husband's heartlessness and insolent indifference had made +her leave him; and how, for the sake of her son, and partly also out of +pride, she had made no attempt to repossess herself of the fortune with +which she had endowed her husband at their marriage. The hardest of all +had been to leave her son, whom she loved with her whole heart; but he +was sickly, and she dared not expose him to the chances of privation and +hardship, such as she expected to endure. With some three thousand +dollars in her pocket, she had come to America, and since then had +never heard a word of those she had left, nor had they of her. + +"About three years after his arrival, the minister's wife died. He took +his two children, and went with them to New York, where they staid +nearly a year; and the widow of the old Knickerbocker found them out, +and was as cordial as ever. But finally the minister decided to return +to his country dwelling, and there he still remains." + +As Professor Valeyon concluded, he looked toward his auditor, having +been conscious, especially during the latter part of the narrative, of +the peculiar magnetic sensation which the steady glance of the young +man's eyes produced. + +But at the same moment, Bressant turned his head away, and closed his +eyes, as if wearied by the strain which had been imposed upon his +attention. The old gentleman presently arose, and, after a moment's +hesitation, he apparently decided not to disturb or rouse his patient +any further. He could wait until another time for whatever discussion +yet remained. So he betook himself quietly to the door. + +He had nearly closed it when, thinking he heard a sudden call or +exclamation from within, he hastily reopened it, and looked into the +room. But the invalid showed no signs of having spoken. His position was +slightly changed, indeed, but his eyes were still closed, and his face +turned somewhat away from the door. + +"I must have been mistaken," said Professor Valeyon, as he shut himself +into the study. He walked to the table, and, resting one hand upon it, +stood for several moments with his head bent forward, thinking. As he +raised it, a sigh escaped him; nor was his countenance so serene as it +had been half an hour before. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AN INTERMISSION. + + +Bressant's recovery was now very rapid, as he had himself foretold. The +wedding was finally fixed for New-Year's Day at noon. They were to be +married at the Parsonage; afterward they might go South for two or three +months, but it was understood that they would return to the village +before settling permanently anywhere. + +"If there isn't room for us here, we can board at Abbie's; it would be +very pleasant, wouldn't it?" said Sophie; but Bressant made no +rejoinder. + +Professor Valeyon was getting on well beneath the weight of his +prospective loss. He indulged in as many comforting reflections as he +could. Cornelia would still be with him, and he loved her as much in one +way as Sophie in another. He seemed to think, too, that the bride and +groom would probably settle somewhere in the neighborhood. Again, he +felt a greater natural affection for Bressant than for any other young +man; what son-in-law, after all, would he have preferred to have? And +there may have been additional considerations equally pleasant in the +contemplation. + +Sophie was in her element; the loveliness and richness of her character +came out like a sweet, sustaining perfume. In love, all her faculties +found their fullest exercise. There was no doubt nor darkness in her +soul. Without looking upon her lover as an angel, she saw in him the +grand possibilities which human nature still possesses, and felt that +she might aid them somewhat to develop and flourish. + +As for Bressant, originally the least inclined of any of the circle to +be pensive and sombre, he now seemed occasionally to contend with +shadows of some kind. He was far from being habitually gloomy, but his +moods were not to be depended upon; sometimes a turn of the conversation +would seem to alter him; sometimes a word which he himself might utter; +sometimes a silence, which found him light-hearted, would leave him +troubled and restless. Sophie, so strong and trustful was her happiness, +never suspected that any thing more than the fretting of his sickness +was responsible for this, and, indeed, thought little about it at all; +for, after all, what was it compared to the full tide which swept them +both along in such an overmastering harmony? + +Within a week from the day of the engagement, a letter came from +Cornelia, speaking of her desire to be at home again, and further +intimating that she meant to return in a month at farthest. She did not +write with as much liveliness and light-heartedness as usual. Sophie +read the letter aloud to Bressant and her father as they sat in the +former's room on a cool August afternoon. + +"How surprised she will be to hear what has been going on!" said Sophie, +looking for Bressant to sympathize with her smile. "I'll write to her +this evening and tell her all about it." She paused to imagine +Cornelia's delight, astonishment, and playful dismay on learning that +her younger sister, whom nobody ever suspected of such a thing, was +going to be married, and to "that deaf creature," too, whom they had +discussed so freely only two months or so before. "She must know before +anybody," said Sophie; and the professor, as he rubbed his spectacles, +grunted in approval. + +But Bressant chewed his mustache, and said, hastily, the blood reddening +his face: "No, no! wait--wait till she comes back. She can know it +first, still; but you had better tell her with words. You can see, with +your own eyes, then, how--how it pleases her." + +"Yes, that is true," said Sophie, half reluctantly. "Well?" + +Bressant lay silent, with a peering, concentrated look in his eyes, his +brows slightly contracted. He must have had an intuitive foreboding that +this matter of the two sisters would cause some difficulty, but he could +hardly as yet have had a distinct understanding of what jealousy meant. + +Howbeit, the lovers grew every day more intimate. In the earlier days of +her intercourse with him Sophie had felt an involuntary shrinking from +she knew not what, but this had been entirely overcome, partly by habit, +partly from an unconscious resolve on her part not to yield to it. The +quick, intelligent sympathy of her nature discerned and interpreted the +germs of new ideas and impulses which were struggling into life in +Bressant's mind; she translated to him his better part, and warmed it +with a flood of celestial sunshine. + +But the sun which makes flowers bloom brings forth weeds as well, and +it would not be strange if this awakening of Bressant's dormant +faculties should have also brought some evil to the surface which else +might never have seen the light. + +In the course of another week or so the invalid had so far improved as +to be able to leave his room, and make short excursions about the house, +and on to the balcony. The feverish and morbid symptoms faded away, and +the indulgence of a Titanic appetite began to bring back the broad, firm +muscles to arms, legs, and body. He felt the returning exhilaration of +boundless vitality and restless vigor which had distinguished him before +his accident. + +The summer was now something overworn; the sultry dregs of August were +ever and anon stirred by the cool finger of September. The leaves, +losing the green strength of their blood, changed color and fluttered, +wavering earthward from the boughs whereon they had spent so many +sociable months. The surrounding hills seen from the parsonage-balcony +took on subtle changes of tint; the patches of pine and evergreen showed +out more and more distinctly; the over-ripe grass in the valley lay in +lines of fragrant haycocks. + +Every day, in the garden, a greater number of red and yellow leaves +drifted about the paths, or scattered themselves over the flower-beds, +or floated on the surface of the fountain-basin. Little brown birds +hopped backward and forward among the twigs, with quick, jerking tails +and sideway, speculative heads; or upon the ground, pecking at it here +and there with their little bills, as if under the impression that it +was summer's grave, and they might chance to dig her up again. But once +in a while they got discouraged, and took a sudden, rustling flight to +the roof-tree of the barn, seemingly half inclined to continue on +indefinitely southward. Then, a reluctance to leave the old place coming +over them, they would dip back again on their elastic little wings, to +hop and peck anew. + +Bressant and Sophie were sitting one afternoon--it was in the first days +of September, and within less than a week of the time when they might +begin to expect Cornelia--upon the little rustic bench beside the +fountain. Their conversation had filtered softly into silence, and only +the flop-flop of the weak-backed little spout continued to prattle to +the stillness. + +"I don't like it!" exclaimed Bressant, stirring his foot impatiently. +"I'd rather put my whole life into one strong, resistless shooting +upward, even if it lasted only a minute." + +"The poor little fountain is happy enough," said well-balanced Sophie. + +"To do any thing there must sometimes be a heat and fury in the blood; +or a whirl and passion in the brain. Volcanoes reveal the earth's +heart!" returned he, sententiously. + +"They're very objectionable things though," suggested Sophie, arching +her eyebrows. + +"They make beautiful mountains, whole islands, sometimes; in a man, they +show what stuff is in him. It would be better to commit a deadly crime +than to dribble out a life like that fountain's!" + +"Even to speak of sin's bringing forth good, is a fearful and wicked +thing," said Sophie; and, although tears rose to her eyes, her voice was +almost stern. "But you don't know what you say: only think, and you +will shudder at it." + +But Bressant was perverse. "I think any thing is better than to be +torpid. I'd rather know I could never hope for happiness hereafter, than +not have blood enough really to hope or despair at all." + +"Why do you speak so?" asked Sophie, with a look of pain in her grave +little face. "Do you fear any such torpor in your own life? My love, +this hasn't always been so." + +"I feel too much in me to manage, sometimes," said he, leaning forward +on his knees, and working in the sanded path with his foot. "I'm not +accustomed to myself yet: it will come all right, later. My health and +strength, too, so soon after my weakness--they intoxicate me, I think." + +Sophie looked at his broad back and dark curly head, and brown, short +beard, as he sat thus beside her, and she grew pale, and sighed, "It +isn't right, dear," said she, shaking her head. "There is a quiet and +deep strength--not demonstrative--that is better than any passion: it is +less striking, I suppose, but it recognizes more a Power greater than +any we have." + +"It's true--what you say always is true!" responded Bressant, throwing +himself back in the seat. "Sophie," he added, without turning his eyes +upon her, "if I shouldn't turn out all you wish, you won't stop loving +me?" + +"I couldn't, I think, if I tried," replied she; and there was more of +regret than of satisfaction in her tone as she said it. "Or, if I could, +it would tear me all to pieces; and there would be nothing left but my +love to God, which is His already. All of me, except that, is love for +you." + +"God and heaven seem unreal--unsubstantial, at any rate--compared with +you," said Bressant, striking his hand heavily upon the arm of the +rustic bench. "My love for you is greater than for them!" + +"Oh, stop! hush!" cried Sophie, flinching back as if she had received a +mortal thrust. The light of indignation and repulse in her gray eyes was +awful to Bressant, and his own dropped beneath it. "Have you no respect +for your soul?" she continued, presently. "How long would such love +last? in what would it end? it would not be love--it would be the +deadliest kind of hate." + +Bressant rose to his feet, and made a gesture with his arms in the air, +as if striving by a physical act to regain the mental force and +equilibrium which Sophie had so unexpectedly overthrown. The mighty +strength and untamed vehemence of the man's nature were exhibited in the +movement. Sophie saw, in the vision of a moment, on how wild and stormy +a sea she had embarked, and for a moment, perhaps, she quailed at the +sight. But again her great love brought back the flush of dauntless +courage, and her trembling ceased. She became aware, at that critical +moment, that she was the stronger of the two; and Bressant probably felt +it also. He had put forth all his power in a passionate and convulsive +effort to prevail over the soul of this delicate girl, and he had been +worsted in the brief, silent struggle. He did not need to look in her +clear eyes to know it. + +His love must have been strong, indeed; for it stood the test of the +defeat. He sat down again, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation, +he held out his hand toward her. She put her own in it, with its +pressure, soft and delicately strong. + +"I can't reason about these things--I can only feel," said he. "You can +look into my heart if you will. Don't give me up: you can help me to see +it all as you do. Isn't it your duty, Sophie, if you love me?" + +"Oh! I will pray for you, my darling," she answered, almost sobbing in +the tenderness of her great heart, and laying her head upon his broad +shoulder. "I would not lose your love for all the world; but I feared +you might be led to something--something that would prevent your loving +either God or me. Promise me something, dear: if you are ever in trouble +or danger, and I'm not with you, come to me! No harm can reach us when +we're together. You need me, and I you." + +"I promise," replied Bressant. + +In the short silence that followed, Sophie heard, though Bressant could +not, a quick, excited, warbling voice calling her again and again by +name. She released herself from her lover's hold, and sprang up with a +cry of delight. + +Bressant, surprised and defrauded, was about to remonstrate; but ere the +words came, he saw Cornelia appear upon the balcony, and he sank back +and held his peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN. + + +Sophie went flitting up the garden-path toward the house, and in a +moment more the sisters were in one another's arms. Bressant, glad of +the concealment afforded by the shrubbery, remained gazing moodily at +the fountain, his head on his hand. The two girls entered the house, and +sat down in the professor's study, where the old gentleman (who had been +the first to meet Cornelia) sat enclouding himself with smoke, but +betraying no other symptom of his huge delight. + +"But how came you to get here so soon, you dear darling?" said Sophie, +looking with lighted eyes at her sister. "We thought it would be a week +at least." + +"Oh, bless your heart, I couldn't wait, you know. So awfully tired I got +of seeing new things and people. Dear me!"--and Cornelia threw herself +back in her chair and uplifted her gloved hands in a little gesture of +ineffability--"you would never imagine what a bore society is, after +all." + +The professor, from his cloud, cast, unobserved, a glance of quiet +scrutiny at his daughter. A certain jaunty embroidery of tone and manner +struck him at once--she wasn't quite the same simple little woman who +had gone to New York two months ago. Well, well, they would wear off, +perhaps, these little affectations; and then, too, it was not to be +expected of her that she'd be a girl all her life. They all must needs +pass through this stage to something better--or worse: all women of pith +and passion like Cornelia. + +"How did you leave Aunt Margaret?" inquired he. + +"Oh, _désolée_, because I would go away," replied Cornelia, with a very +pretty laugh. "She vowed she could have spared me much better six weeks +earlier; for, you see, after I'd learned the ropes, and how to take care +of myself, I became, as she expressed it, 'such a dear, sweet, +_invaluable_ little _attachée_.'" + +Sophie laughed at the comical air with which her sister repeated the +sentence; yet, when her laugh was gone, there remained a slight shadow +of disappointment. She, too, was unwillingly aware of some alteration. + +"Is she such a grand lady as you expected?" asked she. + +"Oh, my dear, grandeur's a humbug, let me tell you. Gracious! by the +time I'd been there a week, I could put it on as well as anybody. Aunt +Margaret, she was no end of a swell, and all that; but, as for +grandeur!--And she was such an odd old thing. Sometimes I seemed to like +her, and sometimes she almost made me faint. Once in a while I thought +she was trying to pump me about something; though, to be sure, there was +nothing in me to be pumped. I told her about Abbie, for one thing, as +much as I knew, and she seemed awfully interested--it was put on, I +suppose, very likely; and yet she really did seem to mean it. I remember +she couldn't get over my forgetting Abbie's last name: she even told me +to mention it the first time I wrote to her. So queer of the old +person." + +"No necessity for you to write, my dear," observed the professor at this +point. "I've been intending to do it myself for some time, and I'll +thank her for her hospitality, and so forth." + +Cornelia nodded, yawned, and then allowed her eyes to wander around the +room. + +"How nice and cozy and home-like every thing does look! And so small. +Why, I should almost believe I was looking through the small end of the +telescope, or something." + +"New York houses are so big, I suppose?" said Sophie. + +"Gracious, dear!" exclaimed Cornelia, laughing again. "Why, the very +cupboards are bigger than this whole house. It'll take me ever so long +to get over being afraid to knock my head against something when I stand +up." + +"You can sit out-doors until the weather gets too cold," observed the +professor. "The sky is as high here as in New York, isn't it?" + +Cornelia ignored this remark with admirable self-poise. "Aunt Margaret +was asking a good deal about Mr. Bressant, too," said she. "She said +she'd only heard about him from you, papa; but I thought, sometimes, she +must be fibbing. Once in a while, you know, she acted just as if she had +forgotten having said she didn't know him. However, that's absurd, of +course. By-the-way, where is he? Here still?" + +"Oh, yes. O Neelie dear, I have such news to tell you. But--yes, he's +out there by the fountain, I believe. Go out and speak to him, and then +come up to my room and hear the secret." + +"All right, I'll be there directly;" and, springing from her chair with +a sudden overflow of animal spirits, drowning out the small growth of +affectation, the beautiful woman danced out upon the balcony, and down +the steps. Sophie went to her chamber, and the professor remained in his +study to indulge his own thoughts, which, by the way, appeared to be +neither light nor agreeable. + +As Cornelia neared the fountain, her steps grew more staid. The +clustering shrubbery hid Bressant from sight until she was close upon +him. She thought, perhaps, in the few moments that passed as she walked +down the path, of that other time when she had picked her way, in his +company, between the rain-besprinkled shrubs. Here was the same tea-rose +bush, and hardly a flower left upon it. Yes, here was one, full-blown, +to be sure, and ready to fall to pieces; but still, perhaps he would +smile and remember when he saw it in her bosom; or perhaps--and Cornelia +smiled secretly to herself at the thought--perhaps he needed no +reminder. He was sitting by the fountain now. What more likely than that +he was thinking over that first strange scene that had been enacted +between them there? Dear fellow! how he would start and redden with +pleasure when he saw her appear, in flesh and blood, in the midst of his +reverie! Cornelia blushed; but some of the loose petals of the overblown +rose in her bosom became detached, and floated earthward. + +All at once her heart began to beat so as to incommode her: she was +uncertain whether she was pale or red. It seemed to require all her +courage to get over the last few steps of garden-path that brought her +into view. What was it? A premonition? Now she saw him, as he sat with +his legs crossed, his head resting on his hand, turned away from her, +staring moodily before him. + +He did not look up until Cornelia stood almost beside him; then, become +aware of her presence, he leaped suddenly to his feet, and towered +before her, one hand grasping the fantastically-curved limb which +ornamented the back of the rustic seat. + +In the space that intervened while Cornelia, startled at his abrupt +movement, remained motionless in front of him, the piece of branch which +his hand held parted with a sharp crack. It broke the pause, and +Cornelia laughed. + +"You seem to be recovering your strength pretty well, if you can break +the limb of a tree short off just by laying your hand upon it! How do +you do? Aren't you glad to see me?" and she held out her hand with a +frankness not all real, for she felt a secret misgiving, and an +undefined fear. + +But the strain of Bressant's suspense was removed. He concluded that +either Cornelia had as yet heard nothing of his bond with Sophie, or +that, having heard it, it had not seriously affected her. Of the two +suppositions he was inclined to the first (and correct) one; but he kept +scanning her face with an uneasy curiosity. He took her hand, shook it, +and dropped it. + +"How do you do?" said he. + +They took their places side by side upon the bench. Cornelia felt a +great weight pressing heavily and more heavily upon her, crushing out +life and vivacity. This was not what she had expected; what did it +mean? was it indifference? was it aversion? could it--could it be an +uncouth way of showing joy? Poor Cornelia held her clasped hands in her +lap, and knew not what to say. + +When the silence had lasted so long that in another moment she must have +screamed, she chanced to remember the watch. It was ticking steadily in +her belt. She dragged it out, her hands feeling stiff and numb, and then +commanding herself by a not inconsiderable effort to speak naturally, +she put it in his hand, which he opened mechanically to receive it. + +"Here it is, all safe. You can't think how punctual I've learned to be +since I've had it. I got to be quite superstitious about winding it up; +but it did run down once--just about six weeks after I left. It was in +the forenoon, about eleven. I--I happened to be looking at it at the +time, and suddenly the second-hand began to go slower and slower, and at +last it stopped. You can't think how frightened I was. I couldn't help +thinking that something must have happened at home. I wrote to Sophie +that I would come home the same afternoon. Of course you know"--here +Cornelia interrupted the hurried and nervous flow of her words to force +a laugh--"of course it wasn't any thing but that I'd been up late +talking with Aunt Margaret, and had forgotten to wind it. It isn't out +of order or any thing." + +She was out of breath now, and had to pause. She would gladly have kept +on indefinitely, for the sake of avoiding another of those dreadful +silences. + +Bressant was not in the habit of paying much attention to coincidences, +but it happened to occur to him that the stoppage of the watch must have +taken place pretty nearly, if not exactly, at the time of his engagement +to Sophie, and the thought rendered his discomposure still more painful. + +"Won't you keep the watch?" said he at length. + +"Keep it?" repeated Cornelia, timidly, uncertain what might be coming +nest. Her breath went and came unevenly. "How can I keep it?" faltered +she. "They know--papa and Sophie know--that I haven't any such watch. +I--I have no right to keep it." + +She could hardly have spoken more plainly; indeed, she had been +surprised into speaking much more plainly than she intended. The moment +after her pride rebuked her, and made her cheeks burn with shame; and a +feeling of anger at having so betrayed herself put a sparkle into her +eyes. Bressant, looking at her, was stricken by the angry glow of her +beauty. It began to dazzle his reason, and bind his will. Their eyes met +fully for a moment; a world of fatal significance can sometimes be +conveyed by a glance. The extremity of his danger perhaps aroused the +young man to a realization of it. He stood up, and pressed one hand over +his eyes. + +"If you've no right to keep the watch, I've no right to give it you, I +suppose," said he, sullenly. + +"I owe you an apology, certainly, Mr. Bressant," exclaimed Cornelia, +interrupting what more he might have been going to say. She was tingling +to her fingertips with the intolerable anger of a woman who finds +herself rejected and befooled. "Really, I am surprised at myself for +persecuting you so relentlessly. Not satisfied with depriving you of +your timepiece for two whole months, I actually am unable to surrender +my--my ill-gotten booty without giving you an uncomfortable feeling that +I want to task your beneficence further yet. Well, I've not a word to +say for myself. I had no grudge to pay. I'm sure your conduct to me has +always been--most unexceptionably polite! The most charitable +explanation is, that I was crazy. I hope you'll consent to accept it; +and I do assure you that I'm perfectly sane now, and mean to keep so. +You needn't," she continued laughing, "you really needn't be afraid of +my persecutions any longer. I'm going to be as circumspect as--as you +are. Now, good-by for the present." She held out her hand with an air of +formal courtesy. "I promised Sophie I'd be back directly. I'll see you +at dinner, I suppose?" + +As she came to the good-by, Cornelia had risen from her seat; by the +action the remaining petals of the tea-rose had been shaken off, leaving +the nucleus bare and unprotected. Bressant's eyes fastened idly upon it, +but he said nothing, and did not move, Cornelia withdrew her unaccepted +hand, smiled, and, turning about, walked up the path to the house with +an easy and dignified grace, which was not so much natural as the +inspired result of passion. + +Bressant looked down at the watch in his hand, and saw it marking the +hour at which a dark epoch in his life began. He knelt on one knee by +the basin of the fountain--but not to pray. Grasping in one hand the +guard-chain of his watch, he dashed the watch itself two or three times +against the stone basin-rim. When it was completely shattered, he tossed +it into the water, and then rose lightly to his feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. + + +Sophie, in her room, was moving about hither and thither, ostensibly to +put things in order, but really to make the time before her sister's +appearance pass the easier. She was little given to the manifestation of +impatience; but now, so much did she long to pour out her heart to her +sister on the subject of her love; to speak with a freedom which she +could use to no one else--not even to Bressant himself--and to receive +the full and satisfying measure of sympathy which she felt that only +Cornelia could give her--dear, loving, joyous Cornelia!--so much did all +these things press upon her, that she found waiting a very tedious +affair. + +At last she heard Cornelia's step along the hall, and up the staircase. +It sounded more slow and listless than a few minutes before, as if she +were treading under the weight of a weary load. Now that she was out of +Bressant's eyeshot, the support afforded by her anger had given way, and +she felt very tired, very reckless, and rather grim. She entered +Sophie's open door, crossed the room heavily, and, with scarcely a +glance at her sister, threw herself plump into the chair by the window. + +"Poor child," thought Sophie; "she's so tired with that long journey; +but she'll be refreshed by what I have to tell her." + +"I'm so glad you're here," she continued, aloud. "I've never wanted any +one so much,-especially since the last two weeks. A great happiness has +come to me, dear, but I haven't been able fully to enjoy it, because I +couldn't tell you--they didn't want me to write. But I wouldn't tell any +one before you, nor let any one tell you but me, because I wanted to +enjoy your enjoyment all myself." + +Sophie had sat down at Cornelia's feet, upon a little wooden cricket +which stood in the window, and had taken one of her hands in both of +hers. Cornelia glanced down at her somewhat indifferently; she had +scarcely attended to what her sister had been saying. But the fathomless +expression of happiness upon Sophie's uplifted face struck through her +gloom and pain. She had never seen any thing like it before, and +probably at no moment of her life had Sophie's earthly content been so +complete. + +"I am engaged to be married," said she, a rose-colored flush spreading +over her cheeks. She delayed lovingly over the words--they were dear, +because they expressed such a world of happiness. + +Cornelia repeated the words stupidly. She felt as if she were rooted +beneath a rock, which was about to fall and crush her. Yet, resolutely +shutting her eyes to what she knew must come--to gain an instant's time +to breathe and brace herself--she asked, with an air of vivacious +interest, bending down, and studying Sophie's face the while-- + +"Engaged, did you say? To whom, dear?" + +"Why, to Mr. Bressant. Who else could it be?" + +Sophie spoke in a soft tone of gentle surprise, but the words rang in +Cornelia's brain as if they had been fired from a cannon. She closed her +eyes, and leaned back in her chair. The strings of her hat choked +her--she tore them apart, and the hat fell from her nerveless hand to +the floor. She strove to open her eyes and command herself, but her +sight was blurred and darkened, and her head dizzy. + +In a minute or two, however, she recovered herself sufficiently to be +aware that Sophie was alarmed about her. The imperative necessity not to +betray herself gave her a brief and superficial control. Her mind was in +confusion, and it was, perhaps, for this reason--because she could not +collect her faculties and analyze the situation--that she was enabled to +feel a gush of the natural, tender love for her sister--a joy in her +joy. Knowing that such a mood could not last long, she hastened to make +it available: she bent down, and put her arms around Sophie's neck. + +"I'm so glad, darling! so happy! How splendid! isn't it? What a perfect +match! Ah, Sophie, I sympathize with you with all my heart. I couldn't +have wished you any thing better." + +This was doing very well. Her manner was a little exaggerated; her +speech was hurried, and almost mechanical. She avoided looking Sophie in +the face while the lies were coming out of her mouth (if they were real +lies, and not a bastard kind of truth, good while spoken, and the next +moment degenerating into falsehood). Notwithstanding these minor +defects, it was a very successful effort--excitement, and even vehement +emotion, were quite admissible in a warm-hearted girl who had her +sister's welfare nearly at heart, and much might be allowed to +surprise. Indeed, Sophie, though a good deal agitated, and even anxious, +was not in the least suspicious or dissatisfied. Such was the loyalty +and humility of her own nature, that much stronger grounds would have +failed to inspire misgivings. + +"I thought you were going to be ill, at first," she remarked, with a +loving smile. "Perhaps I told you too abruptly--did I? You see, I +thought you half knew it already--at least, that you suspected it--and, +then, to tell the truth, dear," added she, with a bright smile in her +eyes, "I didn't think you'd care so much--be so _very_ glad, I mean. +There never was so sweet a sister as you." + +Cornelia felt that this must not go on any longer. She could feel her +cheeks getting hot, and her eyes bright--very little more, and there +would be an outburst. She must leave the room at all hazards, and be by +herself. + +She got up, and stood unsteadily, with her cold hand to her hot +forehead. + +"I believe I _don't_ feel very well, Sophie. I think I must have a +little palpitation, or something. I've been awfully dissipated, and all +that, you know, with Aunt Margaret. I feel a little run down. Oh! it's +nothing serious. Don't tell papa! no--don't on any account. I'll just go +to my room, and lie down for half an hour. I shall be all right before +tea-time. You must tell me all the particulars afterward--not just this +moment. Don't mention any thing about me, you know, and don't let any +one come up. Good-by till supper, dear. _Au revoir_." + +She got out of the room, not very gracefully, probably, but still she +escaped. A few hurried and uneven steps down the entry brought her to +her own door. She burst it open, entered, and locked it behind her in +feverish haste. Then, with a miserable sense of luxury, she flung +herself on the bed, and was alone. + +Her first sensation, as soon as the tumult in her thoughts suffered her +to have any intelligent sensation at all, was one of secret pleasure and +relief. It was a surprise to herself--she even struggled against it, and +tried to convince herself that she was only miserable, but still the +sensation remained. Guilty or not, there it was, and she could not help +it. The news of Bressant's engagement to Sophie was a relief and a +pleasure to her. + +The real pain--hard and bitter, and with no redeeming grain of +consolation--had been the unexpected and unexplained change in his +manner. She had met him, anticipating a tender and delicious renewal of +the relations on which they had parted--the memory of which had never +left her during her absence, and which had grown every day sweeter and +more precious in the recollection. His silence and coldness, +unaccompanied by any show of reasons, had penetrated her soul like iron. +It could only be that she had become distasteful to him, that what he +had said and done before her departure had been in a spirit of +deliberate trifling, or, at the best, that it had been a mistake, of +which he had been convinced during their separation, and now wished to +correct. The pride and resentment that were in her had risen up in +defence, and, had the matter rested there, might ultimately have gained +the victory. + +But his engagement to Sophie--that was another story. In the first +place, if he loved her sister, it did not therefore follow that he +disliked her; quite the contrary. And, on the other hand, it readily +explained the restraint and embarrassment of his manner. How otherwise +could he have acted? Well--and was this all? + +Ah! no--not all! There was a tawny light in Cornelia's eyes as she lay +upon the bed, flushed and dishevelled. She was thinking of a +moment--that one little moment--when their glances had met, and +penetrated to a fatal depth. For a time, the ensuing events had swept it +from her memory; but now it returned, charged with a deeper and darker +meaning than Cornelia at present cared to recognize. She was satisfied +that it gave her comfort. She hid her thought away, as a miser does his +gold: it was enough that it had existence, and could be used when the +fitting hour should come. She had not seen the little episode of the +watch; but that was, perhaps, scarcely necessary. + +The intensity of the beautiful woman's reflections at length exhausted +her mind's power of maintaining them: she turned over on her side, and +began to follow with her eye the arabesques worked upon the white +counterpane. It was just the sort of occupation which suited her mood. +The arabesques were pretty and graceful; the counterpane was of +immaculate whiteness; there was just enough of effort in tracing out the +intricacies of the interlacements to give a gentle sensation of +pleasure; and there was the latent consciousness, behind this voluntary +trifling, that it could be exchanged at any moment for the most terribly +real and absorbing excitement. + +At length it occurred to her that time was passing, and the hour for tea +must be near at hand. She sat up on the bed, threw off her light sack, +and unbuttoned her boots. Going to the glass, she saw that her hair was +in disorder, and partly fallen down, and that one cheek was stamped with +the creases of the pillow. She pulled off her gloves, and looked +critically at her hands. + +"It'll never do to go down this way!" determined she. "I must make +myself decent." + +In half an hour more she was finished, and took a parting peep at +herself in the mirror. Cold water and a soft sponge had taken from her +face all traces of travel and emotion. Her dark, crisp hair was arranged +in marvelous convolutions, and from the white tip of each ear, peeping +out beneath, hung an Etruscan gold ear-ring, given her by Aunt Margaret. +Her cheeks were pale, but not colorless; her eyes glowed like a tiger's. +She was dressed in a black demi-toilet, relieved with glimpses of yellow +here and there; an oblong piece cut out in front revealed, through +softened edges of lace, the clear, smooth flesh of the neck and bosom. +The dream of a perfume hovered about her, and touched the air as she +moved. Her wide sleeve fell open, as she raised her arm, disclosing the +white curves, which were remarkably full and firm for one of her age. + +She gave a little laugh as she stood there that made the ear-rings +quiver, and parted her lips enough to show that her small white teeth +were set edge to edge. + +"It can't do any harm," was passing through her mind. "If I'm to be his +sister, he ought to like me. It's no use making him detest me. If he +loves Sophie so much, what harm can it do for him to be pleased with my +beauty? Besides, haven't I a right to my own good looks?" + +She kissed her fingers to her reflection, and made a deep courtesy. As +she did so, she caught sight of the little petal-less rose-stalk which +had fallen out of her traveling-dress on to the floor. She picked it up, +and, after turning it idly in her fingers for a moment, she yielded to a +sudden fancy, and fastened it into the bosom of her dress; so that this +symbol of a body from which the soul had departed formed the central and +crowning ornament of the voluptuous and lovely woman. + +"There!" ejaculated she, with a smile which did not part her lips, but +seemed to draw her dark eyebrows a little closer together. + +"Strange I'm so quiet!" she mused, as she walked slowly to the door. +"What an ordeal I have to go through! I must sit down with Sophie, and +papa, and--him: listen to all the particulars, ask all the proper and +necessary questions, smile and laugh; and it would be well, I suppose, +to rally the lovers archly on the ardor of their affection, and the +suddenness of the consummation. Better still, I can laughingly allude to +my own prior claim--suggest that I feel hurt at being distanced and left +out in the cold by that demure little younger sister of mine! Oh, yes!" +exclaimed Cornelia, clapping her hands together, "that will cap the +climax; what fun!" + +Here the tea-bell rang. Cornelia put her hand on the door-handle. + +"Of course, nobody could help loving Sophie--such a dear, simple, good +little thing! and why not he as well as any one else? and, of course, in +that case, Sophie must think that she loved him back--thought it her +duty, too, perhaps! Nobody was to blame." + +"But he was mine first!" she whispered to her heart, again and again, +and she found a disastrous solace in each repetition. She flung open the +door, and ran down-stairs with a light step, a smiling face, and a +fierce, tight heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +LOCKED UP. + + +Bressant's health was now sufficiently established to warrant his moving +back to Abbie's. Not that he was particularly anxious to go, but he had +no pretext for staying, and his engagement to Sophie was a reason in +etiquette why he should not. Accordingly, about a week after Cornelia's +arrival, such of his books and other property as had been sent to him +from the boarding-house were packed in a box, which was hoisted in to +the back of the wagon; he and Professor Valeyon mounted the seat, and, +with Dolly between the shafts, they set out for the village. + +"I suppose you remember a talk I had with you the first evening you came +here?" said the old gentleman, as they turned the corner in the road. +"Told you it would be work enough for a churchful of missionaries to +make any thing out of you, in the way of a minister, and so on?" + +"Very well; I remember the whole conversation," said Bressant, pushing +up his beard into his mouth and biting it. + +"Thanks to God--I can't take any credit to myself--you've been more +changed than I ever expected to see you. You've found your heart and how +to use it. That goes further toward fitting you for the ministry than +all the divinity-books ever printed." + +Bressant's hankering after the ministerial life was not so strong as it +once had been; but he said nothing. + +"You'll need means of support when you're married," resumed the +professor. "A few months' hard study will qualify you to take charge of +a parish. The next parish to this will be vacant before next spring. If +I apply for it now, I may be able to give it you, with your wife, as a +New-Year's gift." + +"I thought of getting a place in New York. What could I do in a country +parish?" + +"Expensive, living in New York!" said the professor, with a glance of +quiet scrutiny at his companion's profile. "Marriage won't be a good +pecuniary investment for you, remember. Better begin safe. The village +salary will be good enough." + +Bressant communed with himself in silence a few moments, before +replying: + +"As my father's will stands, Mrs. Vanderplanck--I believe he owed some +obligation or other to her--receives half the fortune, and I the other +half. Are you certain that my marriage, and the disclosure it would +bring about, will forfeit the whole of it?" + +Professor Valeyon touched Dolly with the whip, and turned inward his +white-bearded lips. + +"All I can tell you about it," said he, "is this: when your mother +married your father, all her property was settled upon her; so that it +was only the event of her death, intestate, that could have given your +father the right to will it away at all." + +At this information, Bressant folded his arms, and, looking steadfastly +before him, said not a word. A silence followed between the two, which +lasted over half a mile. Dolly seemed to be in a meditative humor, +likewise; she whisked her tail with an absorbed air, and once in a while +shook her ears, or wagged her head, as though accepting or rejecting +some hypothesis or proposition. Most likely, her problems found their +solution in the manger that afternoon; but those of the professor and +his companion received neither so early nor so satisfactory a +settlement. + +When they had entered upon the willow-stretch, where the trees had +already scattered upon the ground their first tribute of narrow golden +leaves, the younger man came to the end of his meditations, straightened +himself in his seat, and spoke: + +"Let it be as you said about the country parish; if you can get it for +me, I'll be ready for it." + +Professor Valeyon's face, which had been somewhat overcast, cleared +beautifully; he appealed to Dolly's sympathies with a flick of the whip, +to which she responded with a knowing shake of the head, and a +refreshing increase of speed. + +"That's well, my dear boy," said he. "I respect you." + +"I'm not the only one concerned," continued Bressant, who still sat in +the same position, with folded arms; "it involves about as much for Mrs. +Vanderplanck as for me. I shall have to consider that point, and attend +to it first of all." + +"To tell you the truth," returned Professor Valeyon, with an emphatic +deliberation of manner, "I don't think you can give her any information +that she's not possessed of already. She knows as much as you do, that's +certain. You'll do well to begin business nearer home than at Mrs. +Vanderplanck's." + +Bressant lifted one hand to his beard, which he twisted about +unmercifully. "It's only since Cornelia came back that you have thought +that," he said, at length, with sudden keenness. + +The old gentleman nodded, and met steadily the rapid glance which the +other gave him. + +"At all events," the latter resumed presently, "she don't know that I +know, and she don't know what I intend. It's not a pleasant business, +altogether--understand? You know how I've been brought up. It isn't so +easy for me to fall into the right sentiments as it might be for other +men. And--I feel it to be a private matter; I ought to go about it +alone, and in my own way. Now"--here he turned around, and changed his +tone, watching the professor's countenance as he spoke, "are you willing +to leave it entirely in my hands?--promise not to question me, nor to +speak to me, nor to anybody else, until it's all settled?" + +"More than willing, my dear boy! more than satisfied; you shall have a +clear field, that's certain. I sha'n't do any thing--sha'n't say a word, +meanwhile; shall wait with perfect confidence till you're ready to +report, whenever and however you please." + +"I should like to make you a present on my wedding-day, in return for +the parish, you know. Will that be soon enough?" and the young man met +the elder's eye with a sharp look of significance. + +"No more fitting time, no more fitting time," replied Professor Valeyon. +The old gentleman's heart was full; he shifted the reins to his right +hand, and laid his left upon Bressant's, which he pressed with much +feeling. Perhaps it was of bad omen thus to seal a bargain with the left +hand, but no misgivings of the sort troubled the professor. He felt more +at ease than at any time since his pupil first sprang up the steps of +the Parsonage-porch. + +But Bressant, if he were a child in the world of the affections, was, in +other respects, a man of exceptional shrewdness and comprehensive +ability. Although he had never as yet turned his attention to business +matters, he had every faculty and instinct required to make a successful +business-man. When he found his own interests deeply at stake, he may +have had more than one motive for wishing to secure to himself a clear +field. But Professor Valeyon was still as simple-hearted a soul--as +quick to trust wherever his sympathies dictated--as ever in his younger +days. + +Bressant did not intend to deceive him, but then he had no irrevocably +settled plans. He was not one of those who follow blindfold the +promptings of any principle, simply because it chances to be a lofty +one. Although passionate, and hot of blood, he could believe that the +greatest good might be made not inconsistent with the greatest comfort. +He undoubtedly intended to do what honor, generosity, and his future +father-in-law, urged him to do; but it was less from an abstract love of +virtue, than from an overmastering unwillingness to give up Sophie (his +affection for whom was the most deeply-seated necessity of his nature--a +fact which must be borne in mind through all that follows), and +also--this was likewise a consideration of the greatest weight; indeed, +Sophie alone counted for more--also, from a very confident conviction +that, after every thing had been accomplished, according to the highest +dictates of truth, and justice, and all that--he would not, to all +intents and purposes, lose his fortune after all; that, whatever might +be the legal disposition of it, all the enjoyments and benefits that it +could confer would still be his, with the additional grace of having +acted in a most lofty and self-sacrificing spirit; that, in short, and +to use a homely illustration, he would be able to give away his cake and +eat it too. + +After being safely landed at the boarding-house--Abbie was not at home +at the moment--Bressant bade farewell to the professor, and, assisted by +the fat Irish servant-girl, carried his box up to his room. It was +neatly swept, dusted, and put in order; a bunch of fresh flowers upon +the table; others, in pots, upon the window-sill. Their fragrance gave a +delicate tone to the atmosphere of the room, and perhaps penetrated more +nearly to Bressant's heart than an hour full of unanswerable arguments +and exhortations. He turned to the fat servant, who stood smiling, and +wiping her hands on her apron. + +"Who brought these flowers? Who arranged them here?" + +"Sure, and wasn't it Abbie herself!" replied the functionary, giving her +mistress her Christian name, with true democratic freedom. "More than +that; isn't it herself has swept out the room every week, let alone +dusting of it every day of her life! which is not mentioning that the +flowers has been exchanged every day likewise, and fresh put in place of +them, by reason that the old shouldn't fade; which is a fact +unprecedented, and unbeknown in my experience, which have been in this +house nine year come St. Patrick's day--God bless him!" + +Having thus delivered herself of what had evidently been weighing on her +mind for weeks past, the fat servant-girl stopped wiping her hands on +her apron (without help of which praiseworthy act she could no more have +talked, than a donkey with a heavy stone tied to his tail can bray), and +turning herself about, waddled toward the door. Bressant hesitated a +moment, passed his hand rapidly down over his face and beard, and then, +catching open the door just as the fat servant-girl was closing it, he +requested her to inform Abbie, when she came back, of his return, and +tell her he would like to speak with her. + +"I'll do it, sir; rest easy," was the encouraging reply. "Faith, and +it's a handsome man he is, and a sweet, lovely look he has out of his +eyes; leastways now, which is, maybe, more than could be said when first +he came here, three months ago, and looked that cold and sharp at a body +as might make one shiver like. It's likely his being going to marry Miss +Sophie up to the Parsonage as has fetched a change in him; which, she's +a dear good girl; and may they be happy--God bless the both of them!" +Thus soliloquizing, the fat servant-girl, apron in hand, descended the +narrow stairs, and betook herself to the kitchen. + +Bressant paced restlessly up and down his small room, stopping every +minute or so to bend over the flower-pots in the window, or take a sniff +from the bouquet on the table. His cheeks and forehead were flushed, and +his eyes very brilliant. His lips worked incessantly against one +another, and he held his hands now clasped behind his back, now thrust +into the pockets of his coat. But there was certainly a noble and a +gentle light upon his features, different from their usual expression of +dazzling intellectual efficiency, different from the passionate fire +which Cornelia's presence had more than once caused to flicker over +them, different even from the purer and deeper illumination which his +love for Sophie sometimes kindled within him. A virtuous act stirs the +soul by its own innate beauty, even when the motive is not all +unselfish. It was probably the first time that precisely such a look had +ever visited Bressant's face; and it was certainly a great pity that no +one but a fat Irish servant-girl should have had the privilege of +beholding it there. + +Presently, as he stood facing the door, he saw the latch lifted. The +moment had come. Involuntarily he caught hold of the back of the chair, +and drew in his breath. + +Pshaw! only the fat servant again. Bressant bit his lip, stamped his +foot upon the floor, and frowned. + +The fat girl met these demonstrations with a fat smile, and extended to +the young man a long, narrow envelop, laid crossways over the dirty palm +of her large, thick hand. + +"A letter!" exclaimed she, resuming her apron as soon as her hand was at +liberty. "A letter from New York I'm thinking it is; and sure the +handwriting's a lady's, every bit of it; which I don't know what Miss +Sophie would be after saying if she should hear of it--nay, don't fear +me, sir, that I'd ever have the heart to be telling her of it! And it's +Abbie as fetched it, and the same bid me tell you as how she'd be after +coming up here directly; she'll be cleaning her face first, and +removing her bonnet; which she's always a right neat body, and it's +myself can testify, as has lived with her nine years, and never had +cause to complain, God bless her!" + +When Bressant was alone, he sat down in the chair, with the letter +between his fingers. On such slight hinges do our destinies turn. If +Abbie had neglected to call at the post-office, or if she had been +satisfied to give the letter to the young man herself, instead of +sending it to him five minutes beforehand, or if the writing of the +letter had been delayed a few hours (how many _ifs_ there always are in +such cases!), Bressant would have had a far different fate, and this +story would never have been written. But as it was, five fatal minutes +intervened between the delivery of the letter and Abbie's appearance, +during which time he had read it through twice--at first hurriedly, the +second time slowly and carefully--had replaced it in the envelop, and +put the envelop in his pocket. Then he sat quite quiet, leaning back in +his chair, his head thrown forward, his under eyelids drawn up, and +contracted around the piercing glance of his eves, his jaws and lips set +tight, and a straight line up his forehead from between his eyebrows. A +more unpleasant and forbidding expression one does not often meet; but, +such as it was, it grew still more stern and unpromising when the door +once more slowly opened, and Abbie appeared upon the threshold. + +Nevertheless, he at once rose, and inclined forward his lofty shoulders +in a remarkably courteous bow. Abbie, who showed some traces of +discomposure, and held one finger nervously to her under lip, stepped +into the room, and they shook hands. + +"I'm glad to welcome you back," said she, apparently unable to remove +her eyes from his face. "You'll not likely find this place as convenient +as the Parsonage, though." + +"It's very pleasant; these flowers are delightful. I wanted to thank you +for them; it seems like home to be here." + +"Like home!" repeated Abbie. Her body seemed to bend and sway toward +him, and the outer extremity of the eyebrows drooped a little, giving a +singularly soft and gentle expression to her elderly visage. But seeing +that he only colored, turning his head aside, and fumbling with his +beard, her expression changed into one of constraint, which appeared to +stiffen on her features. + +"I'm glad you like the flowers; I didn't know as you cared for such +things. I thought if you were ill they might be pleasant to you. But +you're looking very well, sir, for one who has had so severe an +accident." + +"Oh, yes; I'm as well as ever. I've had very good nursing." + +"Yes--yes," she said, slowly; "it was better you should be there; you +couldn't have been so well cared for here. I told Professor Valeyon so +at the time. I knew you'd feel happier there--more at home. It's all for +the best--all for the best, in the end." She rattled the keys in her +girdle before proceeding, with a distraught, embarrassed manner: +"By-the-way, you had something more than good nursing to help you to +health, I heard. Is it Cornelia--or Sophie?" + +Bressant hesitated and stammered--a weakness he seldom was guilty of, +especially when there was so little reason for it as at present. + +"It's--I'm--oh!--Sophie!" said he. + +"I heard it was Sophie, but I thought likely as not it was a mistake of +one for another. Sophie," repeated she, musingly, "that sweet, delicate +little angel. Oh, I should fear, I should fear! Cornelia would have been +better--not so sensitive--she can bear more--and who knows?--No; but I +do him wrong; he loves her: she'll be happy; she can't help it!" + +Here Abbie became aware that she had been thinking aloud; her hand +sought her mouth, and she glanced apprehensively at Bressant. But he had +evidently heard nothing of the latter part of her speech, which was +spoken in a low tone. He had taken a flower from the bunch on the table, +and was pulling it ruthlessly to pieces. He did not look up. Abbie, +rattling her keys, retired toward the door. + +"I'll bid you good-morning, sir. A house-keeper always must be busy, you +know; and, of course, you can't afford to be disturbed. You need never +fear any disturbance from me--never, I assure you. By-the-way, you +received your letter? I gave it to the servant, instead of waiting to +bring it myself, because I thought it might be important." + +"Oh, yes, I have it; no--no importance at all. Good-morning." + +Abbie walked hurriedly and unevenly to her room, shut herself in, and +fastened the door. She sat down on a chair which stood by the +old-fashioned desk in the corner, and it seemed to her she could not +rise from it again. A faintness was upon her, which she thought might, +perhaps, be death. There was a sensation within her as if a clock had +run down in her head, and had dropped the heavy weight into her heart. +She could feel the paleness of her face, and the drops of moisture on +her forehead. Her breathing was wellnigh imperceptible. She sat quite, +still, in a kind of awful expectation, as if listening for the echoless +footfall of Death. But he passed by on the other side, and left her to +face her life again. + +She felt rather tired of it, as she sat up and looked dimly around her. +Putting her hand in the pocket of her dark dress, she drew out the small +square morocco case which contained the daguerreotype. It was rather +mortifying, certainly: every one knows what it is to appear, dressed for +a party, and find you have mistaken the night. In what pleasant little +episode had Abbie flattered herself that this portrait, with its grave, +dark, baby eyes, its soft, light curls, its slender, solemn little face, +might be going to play a part? No matter: the hope was gone by; and +every day the portrait faded more and more indistinguishably into the +dark background. Abbie looked at it a moment or two only, then closed +the case, and carefully fastened the two little hooks which kept it +shut. Opening the old-fashioned desk, she put the daguerreotype in its +little drawer, and locked it up. She held the key--a small brass +key--between her finger and thumb, meditating. Presently she went to the +window, opened it, and looked out. Beneath, a little to one side, stood +a huge black water-butt, half buried in the earth, and partly full of +rain-water, contributed by the tin spout whose mouth opened above it. +Into this butt Abbie dropped the key. It struck the water with a faint +pat, and disappeared, causing two or three circles to expand to the +edges of the butt, against which they disappeared also. + +She did not immediately draw back, but remained leaning with her arms +upon the window-sill. It was a beautiful, cool, September morning, such +as makes breathing and eyesight luxurious. The fat Irish girl sat on the +back steps, peeling potatoes for dinner. On the step by her side was a +large earthen bowl, into which she put the potatoes, while throwing the +skins into the swill-pail on her right. She was obliged to give her +whole mind to the operation, there being a danger lest, in rapid +working, she should happen to throw the potato into the swill-pail, and +put the skin into the earthen bowl. She was much too absorbed to notice +the beautiful weather, even had she been inclined to do so; but it +remained beautiful, nevertheless. + +"I'd be a fool to find fault with him," said Abbie to herself. "How can +I expect him to see any thing in me, more than I can see myself in the +looking-glass? And then, he loves Sophie, and perhaps he thinks I'd rob +her; the Lord knows I only coveted the luxury of giving away my own, and +seeing them happy with it. Well, he may set his mind at rest; he shall +never suffer the mortification of having to thank a boarding-house +keeper for his fortune. + +"O my boy--my dear, dear boy!" + +Meanwhile Bressant, having been relieved, by the timely arrival of the +letter, from any present necessity of visiting his aunt, was devoting +himself pretty diligently to the cultivation of that line in his +forehead running perpendicularly up from between the eyebrows. It bade +fair to become a permanent feature in his face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +ARMED NEUTRALITY. + + +One afternoon in the cool heart of October, Cornelia and Sophie found +themselves on the hill which rose up in front of the house, above the +road, bound on a hunt for autumn leaves. They were alone. Bressant's +time for coming was still an hour distant. A few nights before there had +been a frost, which had inspired a rainbow soul into the woods; and the +glory of the golden and crimson leaves made it imperatively necessary +that they should be gathered and allowed to illuminate the dusky +interior of the Parsonage. + +Since Cornelia's return home, the sisters had not been so much together +as formerly. Sophie had observed it, and secretly blamed herself: she +allowed Bressant to monopolize her--left Cornelia out in the cold--was +selfish and thoughtless just because she was happy--and so forth: taking +herself severely to task, and resolving to amend her behavior forthwith. +But there seemed to be some difficulty in the way of consummating her +best intentions. + +Cornelia was no longer so easily to be come at; she did not volunteer +herself now in the liberal, joyous way she used to do; did not, in fact, +appear half so ready to do her share in the work of reconstruction. It +began to force itself upon Sophie that the edifice of their former +relations was not lightly to be rebuilt; and the growth of this +conviction occasioned her to mar her ordinarily serene and justly +harmonized existence with sundry little fits of crying and other +mournful indulgences. + +As for Cornelia, if she noticed the estrangement at all, she did not +allow it to occasion her any anxiety. Jealousy and discontent are more +self-absorbing passions than love, and they closed her eyes to whatever +they did not involve. Yet the effect of the estrangement was more +hurtful upon her than upon Sophie; for never had her pure-minded +sister's influence been so needful to her as now, when the very nature +of the malady forbade its being so relieved. + +But this afternoon it had so happened that they found themselves +together, on the hill. Each had filled a basket with the most brilliant, +or harmonious, or vividly contrasted colors they could find. They had +emerged from the wood into the clear autumn sunshine which rested upon +the hill-side, and sat down upon a gray knee of rock, encased with crisp +gray and black lichens. Below lay the Parsonage, with its +weather-blackened, shingled roof, and the garden, full of shrubbery, +intersected by winding paths, the fountain in the centre. The stony road +wound around the spur of the hill, and was visible here and there, in +its slopes and turnings on the way to the village, light buff between +the many-colored bordering of foliage. The winding valley looked like +Nature's color-box; the tall hills beyond, sleeping beneath their +Persian shawls, contrasted richly with the cool pearl-gray of the lower +sky behind them. Away to the right, though seemingly nearer than from +the road below, rose the white steeple of the meeting-house, and, +peeping out around it, the roofs and gable-ends of the village houses. + +"There could not be a more lovely place to be happy in!" said Sophie, +sighing from excess of pleasure. + +"Any place is as lovely as another when you're in love, I suppose," +remarked her sister; "that is, if being in love is as nice as poets say +it is." + +Sophie looked around with a smile, implying that the best description a +poet ever wrote could give but a faint impression of the reality. + +"But," pursued Cornelia, "don't you find it very stupid when he's away? +The happier you are with him, the unhappier you'd be without him, I +should think." + +"Oh, no, dear!" returned Sophie. "I'm happy mostly, because I know he +cares for me more than for any one else in the world, and because I know +he's one of the best and truest of men. I can feel that, you know, just +as much when he's at Abbie's, as when he's here. The happiness of love +isn't all in seeing and hearing, and--all that tangible part." + +"Don't it make any difference, then, if you never Bee one another from +the day you're engaged until you're married?" + +Sophie began to blush, as she generally did when called upon to speak of +her love. "Of course, it's delicious to be together," said she, "and it +would be very sad if we could not meet. But it would be more sad to +think that our love depended on meeting." + +"Well, it may be so to you," returned Cornelia, picking lichens from the +rock and crushing them between her rounded fingers; "but my idea is that +the whole object of being engaged and married is to be together all the +time. I don't see what on earth we are made visible and tangible for, +unless to be seen and touched by the persons we love." + +Sophie looked distressed, and a little embarrassed. + +"You can't think our bodies are the most important part of us, Neelie, +dear? It's our souls that love and are loved, you know. How could we +love in heaven if it were not so?" + +"Oh, I don't know any thing about that. It's love in this world I'm +speaking of. I believe it has as much to do with flesh and blood, as an +instrument has with the music that it makes. What would become of the +music if it wasn't for the instrument?" + +"That's a beautiful illustration, my dear," observed Sophie, after a +thoughtful pause, "but I think it can be used better the other way. The +music of love, like other music, is an existence by itself, exclusive of +the flesh-and-blood instruments, which weren't given us to create music, +but to interpret it to our earthly senses. Our souls are the players; +but in the next world we shall be able to perceive the harmony without +need of any medium. We can remember music, too, and enjoy it, long after +we have heard it--that is why we don't need to be always together. And +yet it's always sweet to meet, to hear a new tune; and the number of +tunes is infinite; so love needs all eternity to make itself complete." + +When Sophie hit upon an idea which seemed to her spiritually beautiful +and harmonious, she was apt to be carried away--sometimes, perhaps, into +deep water. Yet thus, occasionally, did she catch glimpses of higher +truths than a broader and safer wisdom could have attained. Cornelia +took one of the glowing leaves out of her basket, and looked at it. +Perhaps she saw, in the perfect earthly self-sufficiency of its +splendor, something akin to herself. + +"I suppose I don't half appreciate your theory, Sophie, though it's +certainly pretty enough. But you're more soul than body, to begin with, +I believe. For my part, I almost think, sometimes, I could get along +without any soul at all, and never feel the least inconvenience. Perhaps +everybody hasn't a soul--only a few favored ones." + +"What is it gives you such thoughts, Neelie?" said her sister, in a tone +which, had it not been charged with so ranch depth of feeling, would +have been plaintive. Her gray, profound eyes, from a slight slanting +upward of the brows above them, took on an expression in harmony with +her tone. "I never knew you to have such, until lately." + +"I suppose, until lately, I didn't have any thoughts at all." There was +a pause. Sophie looked away over the beautiful valley, but it could not +drive the shadow of anxious and loving sorrow from her face. Cornelia +busied herself selecting leaves from her basket, and arranging them in a +bouquet. Like them, she was more vividly and variously beautiful since +the frost. + +"Do you think men's ideas of love, and such things, are as high as +women's?" asked she presently. + +"Why shouldn't they be?" answered Sophie, coming back from her reverie +with a sigh. "I'm sure Bressant's are: if they weren't--" + +She sank again into thought, and another long silence followed. This +time Cornelia's hands were still, but she watched Sophie closely. + +"Well--suppose they weren't--suppose he were to turn out not quite so +high-minded, and all that, as you think him: you would stop loving him, +wouldn't you?" + +"Why do you suggest it!" cried Sophie, almost with a sob. She bent down, +resting her face upon her arms, and against the rock. "That question has +come to me once before. How can I know? If he were to degenerate +now--now, after I have told him that I love him--it must be because he +no longer loved me; and I should have no right to love him, then." + +Cornelia looked down, for there was a certain light in her eyes which +had no right to be there. When she thought it was subdued, she raised +them again. + +"Shouldn't you hate him always afterward? Shouldn't you want to kill +him?" demanded she, in a low voice. + +"I should want to kill only the memory of his unworthiness," replied +Sophie, her voice rising and clearing, while she regarded her sister +with a full, bright glance. "As to hating him--I cannot hate any one I +have loved, Neelie." She raised herself up as she spoke, and sat erect. + +"Well, you're a strange girl!" said Cornelia, who was a little confused. +"I don't see how you can ever be either happy or unhappy. Nothing human +seems to have any hold upon you." + +"I'm very human," returned Sophie, shaking her head. "There are some +things, I think, would soon drive me out of the world, if God wore to +send them to me." + +The idea of death, when brought home to Cornelia, never failed to affect +her. If she had been planning the destruction of an enemy, she would +have wept bitterly at the sight of that enemy's dead body; nay, even at +a vivid account of his death. Sophie's words brought tears to her eyes +at once, and a quaver into her voice. + +"Don't--please don't talk that way, dear; it isn't so easy to die as you +think, I'm sure. The idea of dying because anybody was wicked! It's only +because you've been ill, and have got into the habit of expecting to +die, that you have such ideas--isn't it? don't you think so? You'll stop +feeling so as soon as you're well again--won't you?" + +"Perhaps," said Sophie, with, it may be, a particle of satire in her +smile. + +They now got up from the rock and began to descend toward the Parsonage. +Sophie stepped with a quick but careful precision, never slipping or +missing her footing. Cornelia made short rushes, and daring jumps, often +coining near to fall. Her mind was a Babel of new thoughts; or rather +one idea spoke with many tongues, and made much disturbance. + +The greatest crimes are often perpetrated by those who, in their own +phrase, follow the lead of the moment, and let things take their course. +Things never take their own course, in a certain sense; what we do, and +say, and think, creates circumstances and shapes results. There seems +always to be a choice of paths. We profess--and believe--that we are +neutral; that we surrender ourselves to the chance of the current. But +let an evil hope--a dangerous wish--once enter our minds: something we +venture only half to hint to ourselves in the non-committal whispers of +a craven, unacknowledged longing-working secretly within us, it will act +upon our course as a rudder, which, hidden beneath the water, steers the +vessel inevitably toward a certain goal. Perhaps, when the current has +become too swift, and the rudder, clamped in one fatal position, cannot +be turned, we may realize, and recoil; but now, indeed, we follow the +lead of the moment; now, beyond a doubt, we let things take their +course: we are hurried on irresistibly; that which we dared not openly +to name, or fairly to face, now looms awfully above us--an irrevocable, +accomplished fact. + +Beyond doubt it would have been safer to have steadily and fearlessly +kept the end in view from the outset: for the full horror of it would +have been visible while yet there was time to change our minds. Few +people have the nerve to jump from a precipice, or stand in way of a +railway-engine, without first shutting their eyes, and perhaps their +ears also. + +In Cornelia's mind there was no intention of ruining her sister's +happiness by interfering between her and Bressant; but then she did not +think it likely that to lose him would occasion Sophie any thing more +than a temporary and comparatively trifling degree of suffering. If she +could allow her love for him to depend upon the immaculateness of his +moral character, she did not love him as much as Cornelia, to whose +affection any considerations of that kind were immaterial. What, after +all, was Sophie's love but an idealization, which had, to be sure, taken +Bressant as its object, but which placed no vital dependence upon him? +But Cornelia's love was to her a matter of life and death: she was +quite convinced that to live without Bressant would be an impossibility. + +The next question was, whether Bressant was really as good as Sophie +believed him to be. Cornelia did not think he was. Perhaps a secret +sense of his attitude toward her suggested her suspicions; perhaps they +were the result of her New-York experience, which had taught her just +enough about men to make her imagine there was more or less of dark and +indefinite villainy in the composition of all of them; perhaps it was +her wish that fathered her moral misgivings about him--for it must be +confessed that Cornelia was very far from shrinking at the idea of +seeing her suspicions verified. + +Indeed, was it not, on all accounts, desirable that, whatever +objectionable points and passages the young man's life-record contained, +should be at once forthcoming? Cornelia could not restrain a feeling of +satisfaction at the growing conviction that it would be doing Sophie a +kind and friendly service to inform her, in time, what a reprobate she +was about to marry--if he only could be proved a reprobate! This +question of proof was the only one difficulty in Cornelia's way; all the +rest was as clear and easy as is generally the case in such matters. + +It would not do to lie about it: Cornelia had a natural if not a moral +disinclination to falsehood, and was, moreover, acute enough to see how +strong, in this case, would be the chances of detection. It was not +likely that Sophie would accept upon hearsay any imputations or +accusations against her lover: she would speak to Bressant at once; the +lie would be revealed, and the result would be not only a failure to +alienate Sophie from him, but a certainty of alienating him from +Cornelia. + +No; her reliance must be placed upon facts. Whatever she could hear to +the young man's disadvantage that was true, beyond the possibility of +his denial, that she must at once make known to Sophie: it was no less +than her duty. Or, better still, why would it not be enough simply to +inform Bressant of her dark discovery, and compel him, by the threat of +revelation, to give up Sophie of his own accord! Cornelia, in +congratulating herself upon this shrewd idea, did not perceive how +entirely it transformed the whole aspect and spirit of her intention. + +So much being arranged, the next thing was to put herself in the way of +learning the objectionable truths which she had persuaded herself +existed. This was rather an awkward point. How should she go to work? to +whom apply? who would be most likely to know, or, knowing, to impart +what Cornelia desired to hear? Aunt Margaret? But it was not certain +that she knew any thing about him more than the little Cornelia had +herself told her: if not useless, it would certainly be rash to make +inquiries of her, especially since it would have to be done by letter. +Aunt Margaret wouldn't do. + +Her papa? No, no! that was quite out of the question. He might not +approve--he was old-fashioned--he wouldn't understand the necessity--he +might ask her disagreeable questions--and besides--no, he must be given +up. + +But besides Aunt Margaret, and Professor Valeyon, who was there? +Cornelia was quite at a loss. To think of being obliged to give up the +whole explosion, merely for want of a match to touch off the powder, +that was unendurable! She would not give it up; she would let herself be +guided by circumstances; something would be sure to turn up that would +serve her purpose; she must be on the alert, that was all, and let +things take their course. One thing troubled her--the day of the wedding +was not much over two months distant! Every thing must be done before +then. It was to be hoped that things would take their course with a +reasonable degree of rapidity. + +As regarded the favorable result to herself of Bressant's separation +from Sophie, Cornelia seems never to have entertained a doubt. That he +would fall into a state of despair, and of bitterness against all women, +herself included, she was unable, consistently with her confidence in +herself, to believe. Far more natural was it, that, finding Sophie no +longer could care for him, he would seek to repose and refresh his heart +elsewhere: and where so soon as with Cornelia? Indeed it was a mystery +to her how he had ever come to care for Sophie at all; and the reason of +the mystery was, that she had felt a movement of passion in him toward +herself. There was certainly not much similarity between the sisters, +and it was not strange that Cornelia should be inclined to doubt the +validity of her rival's claim to supremacy in Bressant's heart. + +Her rival! The current of events had already carried Cornelia a +considerable distance beyond her position on the evening of her return +from New York, when she had excused her beautiful appearance, to +herself, by suggesting that it would not do for the husband of her +sister to detest her! That was sophistry, and it was sophistry that +served her now; but the subjects upon which she exercised it were +becoming hourly more and more ticklish. The woman of two weeks back +would have started and turned pale before the woman of to-day. + +It would be very funny--if it were not so deep a tragedy--the havoc +bungling human fingers make in essaying the work of Providence. No one +but God can know how delicate are the petals of his flowers, nor on what +depend their bloom and fragrance. Hearts are sacred things; we should +beware of meddling, not alone with others' but with our own. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +A BIT OF INSPIRATION. + + +Bressant was in the habit of spending three hours every afternoon at the +Parsonage. Part of this time was passed in the professor's study, +pursuing theological lore; for, whatever the young man's ultimate +expectations with regard to his career and fortune may have been, it was +no part of his plan to allow his future father-in-law to suspect any +tiling else than what he had already given him to understand. + +After lessons were over he joined Sophie on the balcony, walked with her +in the garden, or gave her his arm up the hill. Cornelia was seldom to +be seen, at least within speaking distance. At the same time she did not +keep entirely out of the way. Often, when wandering with her sister +through the garden-paths, Bressant would catch a glimpse of her buoyant +figure and rich-toned face upon the balcony; or, if himself established +there, would presently behold her, in a garden hat and shortened skirt, +raking the fallen leaves off the paths and flower-beds, and perhaps +trundling them stoutly away in a wheelbarrow afterward. It thus happened +that, although seldom exchanging a word with her, he was continually +receiving fresh reminders of her, in one way or another; and he was, +moreover, haunted by an idea that Cornelia was not unconscious that he +was observing her. + +Two or three days subsequent to Cornelia's conversation with Sophie on +the hill-top, Bressant, on his afternoon way to the Parsonage, met the +former coming in the opposite direction. It was nearly at the end of the +long level stretch, which was now resplendent with many-colored maples, +which were interspersed at short intervals between the willows. He had +been walking; swiftly with his eyes on the ground, when, chancing to +raise them, lie saw Cornelia walking on toward him. + +How beautifully she trod, erect, her round chin held in, stepping +daintily yet firmly; it seemed as if the earth were an elastic sphere +beneath her feet, she moving tirelessly onward. She had plucked a branch +of gorgeous leaves from one of the maples, which she brandished about +ever and anon, to keep the flies away. A straw hat, narrow-brimmed, +slanted downward over hair and forehead. Her oval cheeks were more than +usually luminous from exercise; her eyes were bright tawny brown, the +lids shaped in curves, like the edges of a leaf. The vigorous roundness +of her full and perfect figure was hinted here and there through the +light drapery of her dress, as she walked forward. The October breeze +seemed the sweeter for blowing past her. + +"You must be rather late--I don't often meet you!" said she, with a +smile which put Bressant traitorously at his ease. + +"Early, more than late," responded he, stopping as he saw that she +stopped. + +"Are you?--well, then--I don't often see you--would you mind walking +with me just a little way?" and she touched him lightly on the shoulder +with her maple-branch, as with the wand of an enchantress. + +He, in obedience rather to the touch than the words, turned about and +walked beside her. + +"I've a right to a sister's privileges, you know," continued she, +slipping her hand beneath his arm, and letting it rest upon it. + +How very delightful, as well as simple, to solve the problem of their +intercourse on this basis! Bressant did not know how it might feel to +have a sister, but he could, at the moment, imagine nothing more +delightful than to be Cornelia's brother--unless it were to be Sophie's +husband. But to be both! + +"Do you know," pursued she, with apparent hesitation, looking up in his +face, and then immediately looking down again, "I've had a notion, since +coming back from New York, that you don't like me so well as you did?" + +This might be either audacity or delicacy, as one chose to take it. +Bressant, feeling himself put rather on the defensive, answered hastily +and without premeditation: + +"I like you more!" + +"Oh! I'm so glad to hear you say so!" exclaimed she warmly, and as she +spoke he felt her hand a little more perceptibly on his arm. "It takes +such a load off my heart! seeing you and Sophie love one another so +much, I couldn't help loving you, too, in my way; and it made me so +unhappy to think I was disagreeable to you." + +Bressant was quite unprepared for all this. Whatever had been his +speculations as to the future footing upon which he and Cornelia should +stand, it had been nothing like that she was now furnishing. It did not +seem at all in the vein which she had opened on the day of her return. +He was puzzled: had he been more used to ladies' society, he would have +mistrusted her sincerity. + +"You could never be disagreeable to me!" was his answer: and he looked +down at her oval cheek, with his first attempt at fraternal admiration. +It turned out badly. She looked unexpectedly up: his glance fell through +her tawny eyes, and sank down, burning deliciously, into her heart. She +turned pale with the pain and the pleasure: but it was such pain and +pleasure that she sought, and wanted more of. + +"Well, then! it's all clear between us again--is it?" resumed she, +drawing a long breath, which sounded more like the irrepressible +out-come of a tumultuous heart, than a sigh of relieved suspense upon +the point in question. "No more misunderstandings, or any thing? and you +won't get out of the way ally more, as if I were poison--will you?" + +"I never did!" protested he, laughing awkwardly. In the last few minutes +he had developed a sentiment hitherto unknown to him--pique! He had been +imagining Cornelia in love with him, and angry at his preference for +Sophie; whereas, it would now seem that the only reason she cared for +him at all, was because he was Sophie's lover: a most correct spirit in +her, no doubt; but, instead of being gratified, as was his duty, he felt +provoked. + +"Oh! yes, you behaved shockingly!" rejoined Cornelia, laughing with him. +"Mind! I don't care how devoted you are to Sophie--the more the better; +but, when you do notice me, I want you to do it kindly--won't you?" + +"I'll be sure to, now that I know you care any thing about it." + +"And what made you think I didn't care about it, if you please, sir?" + +"Why," stammered he, quite at a loss what to say, and so coming out with +the truth, "I thought you were offended at my being engaged to Sophie!" + +"But what should there be in that to offend me?" demanded Cornelia, with +the mouth and eyes of Innocence. + +"I don't know:--well--I knew you first!" he blurted forth, beginning to +wish he had been satisfied to hold his tongue. + +Cornelia took her breath once or twice, and then bit it off on her under +lip, as if about to say something, and afterward hesitating about it. + +"I don't quite understand you," she managed to get out at last; "do +you--forgive me if I'm wrong--but perhaps you're thinking of that +time--when--just before I went away?" + +Saying this, she drooped her eyes in a confusion, which, because more +than half of it was genuine, made her look very fascinating. Nothing is +more seductive than a little truth. As Bressant looked at her, and +thought of what lie had done at that last interview, soft thrills crept +sweetly through his blood, and he felt a most extraordinary tenderness +for her. + +"I've often thought of it," answered he, in a tone which did not belie +his words. + +"Well--so have I, to tell the truth!" rejoined Cornelia, looking up for +a moment with glowing candor. "But we won't either of us think of it any +more, will we? It seems very long ago, now; and it'll never be again, +and we ought to forget it ever was at all. But, oh! most of all, you +must forget it if it will ever be a reason for your disliking me, or +wishing not to see me! I know how disagreeable it must be to you to +think of it now." + +Did Cornelia know what she was about? had she netted beforehand all the +meshes of this web she was throwing over him? the admirable mixture of +frankness and subtlety, nature and art--must it not have been planned +and calculated beforehand, to bewilder and mislead?--It may well be +doubted. No preconceived and elaborated programme can come up to the +inspiration of the moment, which is genius. Such felicitous wording of +subject-matter so objectionable: such an unassailable presentation of so +indefensible a principle--could hardly have been the fruit of +premeditation. Cornelia was allowing things to take their course. + +"It isn't disagreeable! it's--" Bressant broke off, unable or unprepared +to say what it was. "Why must we forget it?" he added, with a +half-assured look of significance. "You said we were brother and sister, +you know!" + +She laughed in his face, at the same time drawing her hand from his arm, +and stepping away from him. How tantalizingly lovely she looked! + +"It won't do to carry the privileges of relationship too far, my dear +sir! at least, not until after you're married. There! go back to your +Sophie--I didn't mean to keep you so long--really! No, no!" as he made +an offer to approach her; "go! and be quick, I advise you. Good-by!" + +Bressant, as he walked on to the Parsonage, was possessed by an +undefined conviction that he was learning a great deal not set down in +the books. The page of the passions, once thrown open, seems to comprise +every thing. The world has but one voice for the man of one idea. + +Evidently, this man did not comprehend the nature of his position +between these two women. Reason told him it was impossible he could love +both at once; but there her information stopped. His senses assured him +that, with Cornelia, he experienced a vivid rush of emotion, such as +Sophie, strongly as he loved her, never awakened in him; but his senses +could give him no explanation of the fact. His instinct whispered that +he would not have dared, in his most ardent moments, to feel toward +Sophie as he invariably felt toward her sister; but no instinct warned +him of the danger which this implied. A sturdy principle, if it had not +thrown light upon the question, would, at least, have pointed out to him +the true course to adopt; but, unfortunately, principles, and the +impulses which they are formed to control, are neither of simultaneous +nor proportionate growth. Bressant, while partaking so liberally of +emotional food, had quite neglected to provide himself with the +necessary and useful correctives to such indulgences. Thus it happened +that when he arrived, a little past his usual hour, at the +Parsonage-door, his mental digestion was in a very disturbed condition. + + +In palliation of Cornelia's conduct, there is little or nothing to be +adduced. Strong forces had been laboring within her during the last few +months. Love, disappointment, a passionate nature, a sense of wrong--not +least, her New-York experience--had developed, warped, and transformed +her. Bressant's homage had been the first, of any value to her, which +she had ever received. It had come unasked and unexpected, and had been +all the more attractive, because there was something not quite regular +about it. Being lost, she had felt a fierce necessity for repossessing +it, under whatever form, under whatever name. To-day, it was but the +turn of the conversation that had suggested the expedient of calling +herself his sister. + +The very beauty and purity of the fraternal relation cloaks the +miserable rottenness of the imitation. So innocent does it seem, it +might almost deceive the parties to the deception themselves. "I may +love him, for I'm his sister!" said Cornelia; but could she in reality +have become his sister, she would, beyond all else, have shrunk from it. +"Nothing I do is in itself an impropriety," she could say: but her +secret sense and motive were enough to make the most innocent act +criminal. She closed her ears to the inner voice, and her eyes, looking +at her conduct only through the crimson glass of her desire, pronounced +it good. + +She walked swiftly, immersed in thought, along the October road, beneath +the splendid canopy, and over the gorgeous strewn carpet, of the dying +trees. She was going to call on Abbie, it having occurred to her that +perhaps the kind of information she wanted concerning Bressant might be +forthcoming there. Presently, the rapid rise in the road at the end of +the level stretch checked the current of her ideas, and threw them into +confusion. Out of the confusion rose unexpectedly one. + +Cornelia stopped in her walk, with one foot advanced, her head thrown +up, her finger on her chin. She looked like a glorious young sibyl, +reading a divine prophecy upon the clouds. After a moment, she waved her +autumn banner over her head, with a gesture of triumph, and, turning on +her heel, began to walk back toward home. + +The grandest discoveries are so simple! Cornelia laughed to think how +blind she had been--how stupid! What a sense of power and independence +was hers now! To turn homeward had been instinctive. So strong was the +sense of an end gained--a point settled--that, whatever may have been +the actual errand on which she had started, she felt that her work, for +that day, at least, was done. + +She had been planning, and speculating, and worrying, to discover a safe +and sure method of separating Bressant and her sister. Peering into the +past for materials, and searching on one side or another for sources of +information, she had overlooked all that was best and nearest at hand. +What need for her to scrape together a reluctant tale of what had been? +for was not the future her own? Why rely for assistance upon this or +that suspicious and unsatisfactory witness? What more trustworthy one +could she find than herself? Suppose Bressant never to have done any +thing that could make him unworthy of Sophie, was that a bar against his +doing something in the future? + +Yes; she had power over him, and would use it. She herself would be the +means and the cause for attaining the end at which she aimed. She would +be the accomplice of his indiscretion, and thus obtain over him a double +advantage. No matter how intrinsically trifling the indiscretion might +be, it would be just such a one as would be sure to weigh heavily in the +balance of Sophie's pure judgment. So plain would this be to Bressant +himself, that Cornelia would be able to rule him (as she argued) merely +with the threat of accusation. And, since his desertion of Sophie would +appear to her causeless, the indignation she would feel thereat would +save her from repining. Cornelia would have him all to herself! + +Well! and what would she do with him when she had him? She did not stop +to consider. Nor, going on thus from step to step, did she have a sense +of the hideousness of the wrong she contemplated. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +ANOTHER INTERMISSION. + + +It was something of a surprise to Bressant, after his interview with +Cornelia, that she still continued to avoid him. But, after what she had +said to him, to set his mind at rest regarding the spirit and manner of +their intercourse, she felt an intuition that it would be as well he +should believe that she herself was not over-anxious to be on any terms +with him whatever. + +Still, he often saw her, and always carried away a charming impression +of what he saw. Once, she had mounted a chair in the library, and was in +the act of reaching down a book from a high shelf, when he entered +unexpectedly. She turned, caught his eye, and dimpled into a mischievous +smile. All day he could not drive the picture out of his head--the +bounteous, graceful form, the heavy, dark, lustreless hair, the +fascinating face, and the smile. He had but just left Sophie, yet the +fine chords she had struck in him were drowned in Cornelia's sensuous +melody. + +Again, one day, coming into the house, he chanced to enter the parlor, +and there sat Cornelia, in an easy-chair, her feet stretched out upon a +stool, fast asleep. He came close up to her, and stood looking. What +artist could ever have hoped to reproduce the warmth, glow, and richness +of color and outline? He watched her, feeling it to be a stolen +pleasure, yet a nameless something, surging up within him, compelled +him to remain. In another moment--who can calculate a man's strength and +weakness?--he might have stooped to kiss her, with no brother's kiss! +But, in that moment, she awoke, and perhaps surprised his half-formed +purpose in his eyes. + +She was too clear-headed to regret having awaked, for she saw that he +regretted it. And, because he did not venture, she being awake, to take +the kiss, she knew he was no brother, and knew not what it was to be +one. So she put on a look of annoyance, and told him petulantly to go +about his business. Off he went, and passed his hour with Sophie, who +was as lovely, as fresh, and as purely transparent as ever. But some +turbid element had been stirred in Bressant's depths, which spoiled his +enjoyment for that day, making him moody and silent. + +Such little incidents--there were many of them--were far too simple and +natural to be the work of deliberation and forethought. But Cornelia was +disposed to use them, when they did occur, to her best possible +advantage, and therefore they acquired potency to affect Bressant. She +wished that to be, which he had not stamina enough to oppose: thus a +subtle bond was established between them, lending a significance to the +most ordinary actions, such as could never have been recognized between +indifferent persons. + +This was all progress for Cornelia, and she well knew it, and yet she +was not at ease nor satisfied. She began to find out that it was no such +light matter to usurp the place of such a woman as Sophie, though the +latter was laboring under the great disadvantage of being ignorant of +the plot against her. In most cases, indeed, the attempt would have been +wellnigh hopeless, but Cornelia had two exceptionally powerful +allies--her own supreme beauty, and Bressant's untrained and +ill-regulated animal nature, which he had not yet learned to understand +and provide against. And there was another thing in her favor, too, +although she knew it not--the demoralizing effect upon the young man's +character--of his failure to fulfil his agreement with the professor. +The evils that are in us link themselves together to drag us down, their +essential quality being identical, whatever their particular +application. + +Nevertheless, time went on, and November had stalked shivering away +before the frosty breath of December, and still Cornelia had +accomplished nothing definite; nay, she scarcely felt sufficiently sure +of her footing to attempt any thing. And what was it that she was to +attempt? On looking this question in the face, at close quarters--it +wanted less than four weeks now of that wedding-day which Cornelia had +promised herself should see no wedding!--when she found herself pressed +so peremptorily as this for an answer, it might be imagined that she +turned pale at what was before her. And, indeed, the prospect, viewed in +its best light, was discouraging and desperate enough. For at what price +to herself must success be bought, and at what sacrifice be enjoyed? She +must either lose, or deserve to lose, all that a woman ought to hold +most sacred and most dear--home, the esteem and love of friends, the +protection of truth, and, above all, and worst of all, her own +self-respect. All these in exchange for a baffled, angry, selfish man, +at whose mercy she would be, with only one word to speak in +self-defense and justification; and it was much to be feared that he +would, considering the circumstances, reject and scoff at even that. The +one word was--she loved him! and, if there be any redeeming virtue in +it, let her, in Heaven's name, have the benefit thereof. She can rely on +nothing else. + +But Cornelia would not be disheartened. If she saw the rocks ahead, +against whose fatal shoulders she was being swept--if she heard, dinning +in her ears, the rush and roar of the headlong, irresistible rapids--if +her eyes could penetrate the void which opened darkly beyond--she only +nerved herself the more resolutely, her glance was all the firmer, her +determination the more unfaltering. + +The peril in which she stood but kindled in her heart a fiery depth of +passion, such as overtopped and tamed the very terrors of her position. +Because she must lose the world to gain her end, that end was exalted, +in her thought, above a hundred worlds. The faculties of her soul, +which, in her time of innocence and indifference, had been dormant--half +alive--now sprang at once into an exalted, fierce vitality. The hour of +evil found Cornelia a creature of far higher powers and more vigorous +development than she could ever, under any other conditions, have +attained. She showed most gloriously and greatly, when illuminated by +that lurid light whose flame was fed by all that was most gentle, +womanly, and sweet within her. She looked nearest to a goddess, when she +needed but one step to be transformed into a demon. + +In following out her psychological progress, we have necessarily +outstripped, to some extent, the sober pace of the narrative. It was +about the first of December that rumors began to be circulated in the +village of an approaching ball at Abbie's. It was to be the +grandest--the most complete in all its appointments--of any that ever +had been given there. It was looked upon, in advance, as the great event +of the year. Real, formal invitations were to be sent out, printed on a +fold of note-paper, with the blank left for the name, and +"R.S.V.P."--whatever that might mean--in the lower left-hand corner. +There were to be six pieces in the band; dancing was to be from eight to +four, instead of from seven to twelve, as heretofore; and the toilets, +it was further whispered, were to be exceptionally brilliant and +elaborate. Certain it was that dress-making might have been seen in +progress through the windows of any farm-house within ten miles; and at +the Parsonage no less than elsewhere. + +Sophie had an exquisite taste in costume, though her ideas, if allowed +full liberty, were apt to produce something too fanciful and eccentric +to be fashionably legitimate. But, let a dress once be made up, and +happy she whose fortune it was to stand before Sophie and be touched +off. Some slight readjustment or addition she would make which no one +else could have thought of, but which would transform merely good or +pretty into unique and charming. Sophie had the masterly simplicity of +genius, but was generally more successful with others than with herself. + +As for Cornelia, she knew how she ought to look; but how to effect what +she desired was sometimes beyond her ability. She had little faculty for +detail, relying on her sister to supplement this deficiency. She was +more of a conformist than was Sophie in regard to toilet matters; +and--an important virtue not invariable with young ladies--she always +could tell when she had on any thing becoming. + +One December day, when a broad, pearl-gray sky was powdering the +motionless air with misty snow, the sisters sat together at their sewing +in what had been known, since his accident, as Bressant's room. There +was no stove; but a rustling, tapering fire was living its ardent, +yellow, wavering life upon the brick hearth, and four or five logs of +birch and elm were reddening and crackling into embers beneath its +intangible intensity. It made a grateful contrast to the soft, cold bank +of snow that lay, light and round, upon the outside sill and the +slighter ridges that sloped and clung along the narrow foothold of the +window-pane frames. Presently Cornelia got up from the low stool on +which she had been sitting, and, having slipped on the waist of her new +dress, invited Sophie's criticism with a courtesy. + +"Dear me, Neelie!" exclaimed she, in gentle consternation, "are you +going to wear your corsage so low as that?" + +"Yes, why not?" returned Cornelia, with a kind of defiance in her tone; +"it's the fashion, you know. Oh, I've seen them lower than that in New +York!" + +"But there'll be nothing like it here, dear, I'm sure. Think how +frightened poor Bill Reynolds will be when he sees you." + +Sophie looked up, expecting to see her sister smile; but she, having in +view the opinion of quite another person than Mr. Reynolds, remained +unusually grave. + +"Don't mind me, dear," Sophie added, fearing she might have given +offense. "You know I'd rather see you look well than myself, especially +as I may not be here to see you another year." + +She drew a long breath of happy regret, thinking of what was to follow +the next day but one after the ball. + +Cornelia, looking into the fire, her pure, round chin resting on her +bent forefinger, started, as the same thought entered her mind. Was it +so near, though--that marriage? or would an eternity elapse ere Bressant +and Sophie called one another husband and wife? + +"Are you glad the day comes so soon, Sophie?" + +"Yes," answered she, with quiet simplicity. "A few weeks ago it +frightened me--it seemed so near; but not now. I love him much more than +I did--that's one reason. And he loves me more, I think." + +"Loves you more! why? what makes you think so?" demanded Cornelia, a +frown quivering across her forehead. + +"His manner tells me so: he's more subdued and gentle; almost sad, +indeed, sometimes. He's lived so much in his mind since we were engaged: +I can see it in his face, and hear it in his voice, even. He's not like +other men; I never want him to be; he has all that makes other men worth +any thing, and still is himself. He has the greatest and the warmest +heart that ever was; but when he first came here he had no idea how to +use it, nor even what it was for." + +"And he's found out now, has he?" + +"Yes--especially in the last few weeks. Before, he used sometimes to be +violent, almost--to lose command of himself; but he never does now." + +"But doesn't he ever tell you that he loves you more than ever?" + +"We understand each other," replied Sophie, with a slight touch of +reserve, for she thought she was being questioned further than was +entirely justifiable. "Nothing he could say would make me feel his love +more than I do." + +Cornelia smiled to herself with secret derision; she imagined she could +give a more plausible reason for her sister's reticence. She took off +her "waist" and resumed her place upon the stool. + +"What should you do, Sophie, supposing something occurred to prevent +your marriage?" + +"Die an old maid," returned she: not treating the question seriously, +but as a piece of Cornelia's wanton idleness. + +Cornelia began to laugh, but interrupted herself, half-way, with a sob. +She was seized by a fantasy that if Sophie died an old maid her sister +would have been the cause of it--would be a murderess! The sudden +jarring of this idea--tragical enough, even without the ghastly spice of +reality that there was about it--against the ludicrous element with +which tradition flavors the name of old maid--caught the young woman at +unawares, and threw her rudely out of her nervous control. It was a +result which could scarcely have happened, had she been less morbidly +and unnaturally excited and strained to begin with; as it was, it may +have been an outbreak which had long been brewing, and to which Sophie's +answer had but given the needful stimulus. + +The sob was succeeded by a convulsion of painful laughter, that would +go on the more Cornelia tried to stop it. At last, in gasping for +breath, the laughter gave way to an outburst of tears and sobs, which +seemed, in comparison, to be a relief. But at the first intermission, +the discordant laughter came again: she hid her face in her hands, and +made wild efforts to control herself: she slipped from her stool, and +flung herself at full length upon the floor. Now, the paroxysms of +laughing and crying came together, her body was shaken, strained, and +convulsed in every part: she was breathless, flushed, and faint. But it +seemed as if nothing short of unconsciousness could bring cessation: the +sobs still tore their way out of her bosom, and the laughter came with a +terrible wrench that was more agonizing to hear than a groan. + +Sophie had never seen Cornelia in hysterics before, and was tortured +with alarm and apprehension. She knew not what to do, for every attempt +she made to relieve her, seemed only to make her worse. + +"Let me call papa--he must be somewhere in the house--he will know what +to do!" she said, at last, trembling and white. + +"No! no!" cried Cornelia: and the shock of fear lest her father should +see her, overcame the grasp of the hysterical paroxysm. She half raised +herself on one arm, showing her face, red and disfigured, the veins on +the forehead standing out, full and throbbing. "Come back! come back!" +for Sophie had her hand on the door. + +She returned, in compliance with her sister's demand, and knelt down +beside her on the floor. Cornelia let herself fall back, her head +resting on Sophie's knee, in a state of complete exhaustion. There she +lay, panting heavily; and a clammy pallor gradually took the place of +the deeply-stained flush. But the fit was over: by-and-by she sat up, +sullenly shunning Sophie's touch, and appearing to shrink even at the +sound of her voice. Finally, she rose inertly to her feet, attempting to +moisten her dry lips, walked once or twice aimlessly to and fro across +the room, and ended by sitting down again upon her stool, and taking up +her sewing. + +"Are you all well again, dear?" asked Sophie, timidly. + +"Better than ever," replied Cornelia, with a short laugh, which had no +trace of hysteria about it. + +There was, however, a slight but decided change in her manner, which did +not pass away: a sort of hardness and impenetrability: and so +incorporated into her nature did these traits seem, that one would have +supposed they had always been there. Some unpleasant visitors take a +surprisingly short time to make themselves at home. + +But Sophie, seeing that her sister soon recovered her usual appearance, +did not allow herself to be disturbed by any uncalled-for anxieties. +Love, at its best, has a tendency to absorb and preoccupy those whom it +inspires: if not selfish, it is of necessity self-sufficient and +exclusive. Sophie was too completely permeated with her happiness, to +admit of being long overshadowed by the ills of those less blessed than +herself. Not that she had lost the power to sympathize with misfortune, +but the sympathy was apt to be smiling rather than tearful. She was +alight with the chaste, translucent, wondering joy of a maiden before +her marriage: the delicate, pearl-tinted brightness that pales the +stars, before the reddening morning brings on the broader daylight. + +She was not of those who, in fair weather, are on the lookout for rain: +she believed that God had plenty of sunshine, and was generous of it; +and that the possibilities of bliss were unlimited. She was not afraid +to be perfectly happy. A little sunny spot, in a valley, which no shadow +has crossed all day long, was like her: there seemed to be nothing in +her soul that needed shadow to set it right. + +Cheerfulness was soon reestablished, therefore, so far as she was +concerned; and the remembrance of Cornelia's distracting seizure +presently yielded to the throng of light-footed thoughts that were ever +knocking for admittance at her heart's door. Once afterward, however, +the event was recalled to her memory, by the revelation of its cause. +Little that happens in our lives would seem trifling to us, could we but +trace it, forward or backward, to the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION. + + +Friday, December 30th, was the day appointed for Abbie's ball, and the +morning of the 28th had already dawned. Bressant stood, with his arms +folded, at the window of his room, watching the downfall of a thickening +snow-storm which had set in the previous midnight. There had evidently +been no delay or intermission in the cold, white, silent business; to +look out-of-doors was enough to make the flesh seem thin upon the bones. + +In spite of the snow, however, the little room was feverishly hot, owing +to the gigantic exertions of the small iron cylinder-stove. The round +aperture over the little door was glowing red, like an enraged eye; and +the quivering radiation of the heat from the polished black surface was +plainly perceptible to the sight. The room had lost something of the +neat and fastidious appearance which it had worn a few months before. +The colored drawing of a patent derrick, fastened to the wall by a tack +at each corner of the paper, had broken loose at one end, and was +curling over on itself like a withered leaf. The string by which the +ingenious almanac had been suspended over the mantel-piece was broken, +letting the almanac neatly down into the crevice between the wall and a +couple of fat dictionaries, which lay, one on top of the other, upon the +ledge. It was quite hidden from view, with the exception of one corner, +which was a little tilted upward, showing the hole through which the +faithless string had passed. + +The terrestrial and astronomical globes bore the appearance of not +having revolved for a long time. A part of the pictured surface of the +latter had scaled off, disclosing a blank whiteness beneath. Even the +heavens, it seemed, were a sham; nothing more than a varnished painting +upon a plaster-of-Paris foundation. The flower-pots still stood in the +windows, but hot air and an irregular water-supply had made sad inroads +upon the beauty of the plants. The lower leaves were turned brown; some +of them had fallen off, and lay--poor, little unburied corpses--upon the +narrow circle of earth which, having failed to keep life green within +their cells, now denied to them the right of sepulture. A few of the +topmost sprouts still struggled to keep up a parody of verdure, and one +or two faded flowers had not yet forsaken their calices--a silly piece +of devotion on their part! Icy little blasts, squeezing in through the +crevices of the window-sash, whistled about the forlorn stalks, cutting +and venomous. The poor flowers would never see another summer; better +give up at once! + +Even the books which met the eye on every side, wore a deserted air. Not +that they were dusty, for the chambermaid did her duty, if Bressant +failed in his; but there was something in the heavy, methodical manner +of their sleeping upon one another, such as they could never have +settled into had they been recently disturbed or opened. The outside of +a book is often as eloquent, in its way, as any part of the contents. + +Bressant's arms were folded, and the perpendicular line up from between +the eyebrows was quite in harmony with the rest of his appearance. He +was weary, harassed, and divided against himself. Insincerity made him +uncomfortable; it compelled continual exertion, and of a paltry and +degrading kind; and it gave neither a sense of security, nor a prospect +of future advantage. Five days from now he was to be married; the duties +of a parish minister were to be undertaken, and he felt himself neither +mentally nor morally fitted or inclined for the office. Five days from +now the professor would expect from him that gift at which he had hinted +during their drive; and he had done nothing, either in act or purpose, +to fulfil his promise concerning it. + +He was cut off from all sympathy. How could he confide to Sophie the +very wrong he meditated against herself--the very deception he was +practising upon her father? And what other person in the world was there +to whom he might venture to betake himself? Cornelia?--not yet! he dared +not yet yield himself to the influence he felt she was exercising over +him; the surrender implied too much; matters had not gone far enough. +But did there not lurk, in the bottom of his heart, a presentiment that +it was to her alone he would hereafter be able to look for countenance +and comfort? And would he avail himself of the refuge? When those whom +their friends--whether justly or not--have abandoned, chance to stumble +upon some oasis of unconditional affection, they are not squeamish about +its source or orthodoxy; if the sentiment be sincere and hearty, that +is enough. In the present case, moreover, Cornelia, as a last resort, +was by no means so uninviting an object as she might have been. + +But since the question lay between his fortune and Falsehood on one +side, and a wife and Truth on the other, how was it possible for him to +pause in his decision? Undoubtedly, had the young man once fairly +admitted to himself that his choice lay between these two bare +alternatives, he would have been spared much of the misery arising from +casuistry and duplicity. But people are loath to acknowledge any course +to be, beyond all appeal, right or wrong; they amuse themselves with +fancying some modification--some new condition--some escape; any thing +to get away from the grim face of the inevitable. Bressant, for +instance, might surely succeed in consummating his marriage with Sophie, +no matter what else he left undone; and that being once irrevocably on +his side of the balance, all that was vital to his happiness was secure; +by a quick stroke he might capture the fortune likewise, and could then +afford to laugh at the world. + +This scheme, however, otherwise practical enough, involved a fallacy in +its most important point. A marriage so contracted, with a woman of +Sophie's character, could by no possibility turn out a happy or even +endurable union. She would not be likely long to survive it; if she did, +it would be to suffer a life more painful than any death; for no one +depended more than Sophie upon integrity and nobility in those she +loved; and the break in her family relations would be another source of +agony to her, and of consequent remorse and misery to her husband. No: +to bind her life to his, unless he could also compel her respect and +admiration, would be a good deal worse than useless. + +He must, then--and there was yet time--resign his fortune, and accept +Sophie and a clear conscience, poverty and a country parish. But persons +who have wealth absolutely in their power, to take or to leave, sec +clearly how much poetical extravagance, hypocrisy, and cant exist in the +arguments of those who advocate the beauties and advantages of being +poor. Deliberately and voluntarily to forego the opportunities, the +influence, the ease, the refinement, which money alone can command--let +not the sacrifice be underrated! Few, perhaps, have had the choice +fairly offered them: of those, how many have chosen poverty? In +Bressant's case, the fact that the money was not legally his, was, +abstractly, enough to settle the matter; but in real life, where every +one is expected to do battle for his claims, it would only be an +argument for holding on the harder. If he could but manage to be happily +married and wealthy both! He would not confess it impossible; at all +events, he would delay the confession till the very latest hour, and +then trust to the impulse of the moment for his final decision and +action. He had given up, it seemed, that promising idea of trusting to +the generosity of the rightful owner; yet, considering their mutual +relation, and one or two minor circumstances, he might certainly do so +without misgiving, embarrassment, or dishonor. + +"It's that infernal letter!" muttered the young man between his teeth, +staring gloomily out at the cheerless snow-storm. "I wish it had never +been written. No! that I could feel sure there was no truth in it." + +Turning from the window, he stepped over to the table, and dropped +himself into his chair. He took from his pocket a well-worn envelope, +hardly capable of holding on to the inclosed letter, which peeped forth +at the corners, and through various rents in the front and back. He did +not open it, for he had long known by heart every word and italic in it; +but, placing it in front of him, he leaned upon his elbows, with his +forehead resting between his hands, and gazed fixedly down upon it. It +is an assistance to the vividness of thought to have some object in +sight connected with the matter under consideration. + +"Ought I to have answered it?" ran his soliloquy: for though he had +frequently taken counsel with himself concerning this letter before, he +recurred again and again to the subject, pleasing himself with the hope +that still, in some way, a fortunate ray of light might be struck out; +"but, if I had, what should I have gained by it? It's as well not to +have risked putting any thing on paper; and if she really has the proofs +she talks about, I shall hear from her again, and soon, for she knows +which is my wedding-day; and it must all be decided, one way or another, +before then. But she couldn't have made the assertion if she hadn't +known some good grounds for it; and yet I can't understand it--I +cannot." He pressed his temples strongly between his hands, and chewed +his brown mustache. "As to my having 'no legal claim to a cent,' I knew +that before. What puzzles me is, 'There is no consideration--not a +_shadow_ of relationship, or affection, or generosity--nothing to give +you the least _prospect_ of receiving any thing.' How can that be? And +yet what she says at the end--it sounds more like a threat she knows she +can fulfil than an attempt to humbug." Bressant took his right hand from +his forehead, and tapped with his finger on the envelope as he repeated +the words: "If this is enough--convinces you without your requiring +proof--it would be much pleasanter for you, and a great relief to me. +Oh! beyond _words_! But if not--if you will _go on_ entangling yourself +with this foolish girl, Sophie, and this boarding-house keeper, and +all--I _shall_ be obliged--I shall hate to _do_ it, but there will be no +alternative--to give you the _explanation_ of what I tell you now." + +"Well! let her!" cried the young man, rising roughly from his chair, and +shouldering backward and forward across his room with short, incensed +steps. "If her proofs can prevent my marriage, let her bring them. She'd +better be quick about it! Four days from now! They'd better never have +come at all. It's her interest as much as mine--more than mine. She's a +half-crazy old creature. She can do nothing for herself. If she has any +thing to say, let her say it. I'm no baby, to shape my life after an old +woman's story. Who is she? What is she to me? + +"Let something happen, I say," continued he, stretching out his great +arms, with the fists clinched. "I'm tired of this--the life of a dog +with his tail between his legs. Is it _I_ who go about, afraid to look +man or woman in the face? Am I the same who came here six months ago? +Did I come here to learn this? Who was it taught it to me, then? I say, +I've been deceived; it's no work of mine. Professor Valeyon--he's made +me a subject for experiment; he's tried his theories on me; dissected +me, and filled in the parts that were wanting. It's a dangerous +business, Professor Valeyon. You've lost one daughter; the other may go +too." + +Bressant's voice, which had been growing hoarser and more rapid as he +went on, abruptly sank, at this last sentence, into a whisper; yet, had +any one been there to listen, the whisper would have sounded louder and +more terrible than the most violent vociferation of angry passion. It +breathed a sudden concentration of evil intelligence, that startled like +the hiss of a serpent. + +He stopped his short, passionate walk, and leaned against his table, +with his arms once more folded. The idea that he had been tampered with +had gained possession of him, and nothing tends more to demoralize a +man, and make him unmanageably angry. His was an uncandid position, +without doubt: he was attempting to lay upon others the responsibility +which--the greater part of it, at least--should have been borne by +himself; but still, the vein of reasoning he pursued was connected, and +comprehensible, and was rendered awkward by an ugly little thread of +something like truth and justice, which showed here and there along its +course. + +"They've taught me to love; did they think they could stop there? that I +shouldn't learn to lie, as well? and to hate, and be revengeful? and to +be afraid? Was I so bad when I came here, that all this has made me no +worse? I was happy, at any rate; my brain was clear; my mind had no +fear, and no weariness--it was like an athlete; my blood was cool. Look +at me now! Am not I ruined by this patching and mending? I can do no +work. When I think, it's no longer of how I might become great, and +wise, and powerful--of nothing inspiring--nothing noble; but all about +these petty, heated, miserable affairs, that have twisted themselves +around me, and are choking me up. I don't ask myself, any more, whether +my name will be as highly honored and as long remembered as the +Christian Apostles', and Mohammed's, and Luther's. My only question is, +whether I'm to turn out more of a fool, or of a liar! And _I_ love +Sophie Valeyon! I'm to be her husband." + +The young man came to a sudden stop, and slowly lifted his head. Through +the sullen, unhappy, and resentful cloud that darkened his eyes, there +glimmered doubtfully a light such as can be reflected only from what is +most divine in man. It was a strange moment for it to appear, for at no +time had Bressant's moral level been so low as now; but, happily, the +phenomenon is by no means without precedent in human nature. God is +never ashamed to declare the share He holds in a sinner's heart, however +black the heart may be. + +"No, no!" said he; and, as he said it, the first tears that he had ever +known glistened for a moment in his eyes; "such as I am, I must never +marry her." + +The point on which this sudden and momentous resolve turned was so +subtle and delicately evanescent as scarcely to be susceptible of +clearer portrayal. To be consistent, the weight of his revengeful +sentiments should have been directed upon Sophie, for she it was who had +played the most effective part in changing his nature, and swerving him +from his cold but sublime ambitions. By teaching Bressant love, she +had, by implication, done him deadly injury, yet was the love itself so +pure and genuine as to prompt him to resign its object; he being +rendered unworthy of her by that same moral dereliction which she +herself had occasioned. + +But the very quality which enables us to do a noble deed dulls our +appreciation of our own praiseworthiness. Bressant took no encouragement +or pleasure from what he had done; probably, also, his realization of +the extensive and fearful consequences of the action, to others as well +as to himself, was as yet but rudimentary; so soon as the momentary glow +was passed, he fell back into a yet darker mood than before, and felt +yet more adrift and reckless. To make a sacrifice is well, but does not +hinder the need of what is given up from crippling us. + +Again the young man turned to the window, and, raising the sash, he +secured it by the little button used for the purpose, and leaned out +into the snow-storm. The flakes fell and melted upon his face, and +caught in his bushy beard, and rested lightly upon his twisted hair. +They flew into his eyes, and made little drifts upon the collar of his +coat and in the folds of his sleeves. He gazed up toward the dull, gray +cloud whence they came, and presently, out of the confusion, and +carelessness, and morbid impatience of his heart, he put forth a prayer +that some awfully stirring event might come to pass; let a sword pass +through his life! let him be smitten down and trampled upon! let his +mind be continually occupied with the extreme of active, living +suffering! let there be no cessation till the end! He could accept it +and exult in it; but to live on as he was living now was to walk +open-eyed into insanity. Rather than that, he would commit some capital +crime, and subject himself to the penalty. Let God take at least so much +pity upon him, and grant him physical agony! + +It is not often that our prayers are answered, nor, when they are, does +the answer come in the form our expectations shaped. Occasionally, +however--and then, perhaps, with a promptness and completeness that +force us to a realization of how extravagant and senseless our desires +are--does fulfillment come upon us. + +As Bressant's strange petition went up through the storm, a sleigh came +along from the direction of the railway-station. It was nothing but a +cart on runners, and painted a dingy, grayish blue; it was loaded with a +dozen tin milk-cans much defaced by hard usage, each one stopped with an +enormous cork. The driver was clad in an overcoat which once had been +dark brown or black, but had worn to a greenish yellow, except where the +collar turned up around the throat, and showed the original color. His +head and most of his face were enveloped in a knit woolen comforter, and +mittens of the same make and material protected his hands. His legs were +wrapped up in a gray horse-blanket. He was whitened here and there with +snow, and snow was packed between the necks of the milk-cans. He drove +directly toward the boarding-house, and he and Bressant caught sight of +one another at the same moment. + +"Hallo!" called the stranger; "you're Bressant, I guess, ain't you? I've +got something for you." Here he drew up beneath the window. "You see, I +was down to the depot getting some milk aboard the up-train, and Davis, +the telegraph-man, came up and asked me, 'Bill Reynolds, are you going +up to Abbie's? 'cause,' says he, 'here's a telegraph has come for the +student up there--him that's going to marry Sophie Valeyon--and our boy +he's down with the influenza,' says he. 'I'm you're man!' says I, 'let's +have it!' and here 'tis," added Mr. Reynolds, producing a yellow +envelope from the bottom of his overcoat pocket. + +Bressant had heard little or nothing of the explanation volunteered by +the bearer of the message, but he at once recognized the yellow +telegraph-envelope, and comprehended the rest. But, ere he could leave +the window to go down and receive it, he saw the fat servant-girl, who +had witnessed the scene from the parlor, run down to the front-gate, +sinking above her ankles at every step, take the envelope from Bill's +mittened paw, exchange a word and a grin with him, and then return, +carefully stepping into the holes she had made going out. + +Bill gave a nod of good-will to Bressant's window--for Bressant was no +longer there--whipped up his nag, and jingled off with his milk-cans. In +another minute the fat servant-girl, after stamping the remains of the +snow off her shoes upon the door-mat, opened the door, and introduced +the dispatch and her own smiling physiognomy. Bressant snatched the +former, and shut the door in the latter, before the hand-wiping and +haranguing had time to begin. + +Before opening the envelope, he stood up at his full height, and filled +his lungs with a long, profound breath; then emitted it suddenly in a +sort of deep, short growl, and took his seat at the table. He tore open +the end of the envelope, pulled out the inclosure, which was an ordinary +printed telegraph-blank, filled in with three lines of writing, as +follows: "Been very ill come on at once at once must hear all no +alternative" in the scrawly and unpunctuated chirography peculiar to +written telegrams. The name signed was "M. Vauderp." Bressant read the +message, and afterward carefully perused the printing, even down to the +name of the printer's firm, which was given in very small type at the +bottom of the paper. Then he glanced over the writing once more, and +returned the paper to the envelope. + +"At once, at once!" muttered he; "that's the only way of writing italics +in telegraphy, I suppose. Well, I'll go at once; it's ten now; there's a +train at half-past." + +He unlocked a drawer in his table, and took from it a purse, which he +put in his pocket. He buttoned a pea-jacket across his broad chest, +pressed a round fur-cap on to his handsome head, took a pair of thick +gloves from the mantel-piece, and walked away without giving one +backward glance. + +The snow blew and drifted through the open window into the empty room; +the few remaining flowers were hustled from their stalks; the red eye of +the stove grew dimmer and dimmer, and finally faded into darkness, and +the colored drawing of the patent derrick broke loose at another corner, +and flapped and fluttered against the wall in crazy exultation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +FACT AND FANCY. + + + +The snow-storm continued all that afternoon. The customary hour for +Bressant's visit to the Parsonage went by, and he did not appear. The +professor smoked two extra pipes, and spent half an hour looking out +across the valley trying to discern the open spot upon the top of the +hill. Finally, the early twilight set in, and he returned to his chair, +but felt no impulse to light a lamp and take up a book. He sat tilted +back, pulling Shakespeare's nose with meditative fingers. A gloom +gradually settled over the room, withdrawing one after another of the +familiar objects around him from the old gentleman's sight; it even +seemed to creep into his heart, and create a vague uneasiness there. He +tried to shake it off, telling himself that he was the happiest and most +fortunate old fellow alive; that every thing was coming out just as he +had hoped and prayed it might; that one daughter, with the man of her +choice, would be just far enough removed from his fireside to give +piquancy to the frequent visits he should receive from her; while the +other would still, for a time, continue to pour out sunshine in the +house, and redouble her love for him by way of compensating for what he +should miss in Sophie's absence. And then the professor built an airier +and a fairer castle still: beneath it lay the heavy clouds of suffering, +barren effort, and hope deferred; its sunlit walls were hewn of solid +faith; the banner which floated over the battlements was woven with +white threads of truth; over the arched entrance-gate was written +"Constancy." Yet, fair and lofty as the castle was, the +building-materials were taken from no less homely edifices than the +village boarding-house and his own Parsonage! + +By-and-by, however, the vision faded, or else the clouds upon which it +was built rose up and hid it. The professor, returning to himself, found +that he was now surrounded with thick darkness, and, strive as he would, +he could paint no fancies upon it which did not partake more or less of +the character of the background. Sophie seemed to have lost the steady +cheer of her aspect; she was pale and fragile, and every moment took +away yet more of earthly substance, till scarcely any thing but the +faint lustre of her face and form remained. Then, all at once, the +features which had heretofore been only sad, changed into an expression +of horror and torture and despair; and, while the professor, himself +aghast, strained his old eyes to make out more clearly the +half-indistinguishable image, it vanished quite away. But, at the last +moment, it had spoken--at least, the lips bad moved as if in speech, +though no sound had reached the professor's ears; yet he fancied he had +caught a glimmering of the purport. He pressed his hands over his +forehead to shut out the thought, and wondered no longer at the +expression upon Sophie's face. + +Then Cornelia moved across the hollow blackness of the room. She was +sunshiny no longer, but morose and stern; her eyebrows were drawn +together; a secret defiance was in her tigerish eyes; her lips were set, +yet seemed, ever and anon, as she turned her face aside, to tremble +with a passionate yearning. As he gazed, she disappeared, but the +professor had a feeling that she was still concealed somewhere in the +darkness. And, at last, she came again--she, or something that looked +like her. The old gentleman shivered and recoiled, as though a +snow-drift had somehow blown into his warm, old heart. Was it his +daughter who looked with those unmeaning eyes, encircled with dark +rings, in which life and passion burned out had left the dull ashes of +remorse and hopelessness? Where were the luminous cheeks and the queenly +step of his proud and beautiful Cornelia?--What words were those? or was +it only fancy?--Ah!--The professor started with a sharp exclamation: but +he was alone in his dark study, and the phantom of Cornelia was gone. + +He composed himself in his chair again, and, presently, a third figure +grew into form and color before him. At first, as a stately young girl, +with the arched feet and hot blood of the south, and her eyes dark and +soft as a Spaniard's; but her beauty lasted but for a moment. A +withering change came over face and figure: she was cold and hard; her +youthful ardor, warmth, and freshness, had been shrivelled up or worn +away. The rich black hair grew rusty, and the dark, delicate complexion +became dull and lustreless. Nevertheless, the professor continued to +look with hopeful expectation, confident that a further alteration would +ensue, which, though, it would not restore the grace of youth, would +give a peace and happiness yet more beautiful. And, indeed, it seemed, +for a moment, as though his expectation would be gratified. The figure +raised its head, and held forth its hands, and the professor's bright +anticipation was reflected in its eyes. But, alas! the brightness faded +almost before it could be affirmed to exist. The hands dropped to the +sides, the head was averted, and the whole form shrank back, and sank to +the ground. For the third time--the professor's imagination was +certainly playing him strange tricks this evening--the ghost of spoken +words appeared to fall upon his ears, and sink like molten lead into his +heart. He groaned, and there was an oppression on his chest, so that he +struggled for breath; but, in another moment, the crouching figure was +gone, and the oppression with it; but drops of sweat stood upon the old +man's broad forehead. + +Still another vision awaits him, however, and he draws himself up +sternly to encounter it, and a heavy frown lowers on his thick gray +eyebrows. But the lofty form which confronts him, massive and stalwart, +alike in mind and body, meets his gaze unflinchingly, and frowns back in +angry defiance. The old professor pauses in his intended denunciation, +being taken aback somewhat, at the unexpected counter-accusation which +strikes out at him from the young man's eyes. Yet do his self-confidence +and indignation become reconfirmed, for there, behind, the three former +phantoms appear together, and seem to launch against the last a deadly +shaft of bitter reproach and judgment. The professor watches it cleave a +passage through the stalwart figure's heart, and he bows his head, and +thinks--it is but justice! In the same instant, a cry of intensest pain +and horror escapes him: the deadly arrow, additionally poisoned by the +blood it has just shed, has passed quite through the spectre of his +former pupil, and is buried up to the feather in Professor Valeyon's +own vitals! This shock effectually wakened the old gentleman--for, after +all, he had only been having an uneasy nap in his straight-backed +chair!--and he started to his feet, and fumbled nervously for the +match-box. Just then, Sophie appeared at the door with a lamp in her +hand--the real Sophie, this time--no intangible shadow. + +"Why, papa dear! What are you doing in here in the dark? Have you been +asleep?" + +"Come here, my dear!" said the professor, in a shaken voice, holding out +his hand. He took her on his knee, and hugged her to him eagerly, +passing his hand down her arm, and pressing her slender fingers. "Are +you well and happy, Sophie?" + +"Yes, papa," she answered, laying her head as usual on his shoulder. + +"He--your--young man didn't come to-day?" continued the professor, with +an attempt to be jocose. "He's getting very squeamish to be kept back by +a snow-storm!" Sophie replied only by nestling closer to her father's +shoulder. + +"Where's Neelie?" inquired the professor, again breaking the silence. + +"She's seeing about supper, I believe." + +"Have you heard any thing about Abbie lately?" proceeded the other. He +must have been either strangely anxious to keep up a conversation, or +unusually inquisitive, this evening. + +"Not very lately; I saw her about a week ago. She didn't look in very +good spirits, it seemed to me." + +"Not in good spirits, eh? not in good spirits? and that was a week ago! +was she ill?" + +"I don't think there was any thing the matter--with her health, I mean; +she only looked very sad--as if something had almost broken her heart. +But then she always is grave, you know." + +"She has been of late years, that's certain," muttered the old man, +gruffly; "and does she begin to be broken-hearted _now_!" he added, to +himself. More thoughts, and angry ones, he might have had, but the +memory of his untoward dream still hovered about him, and he suppressed +them. + +"What are you thinking of, papa?" demanded Sophie, with an inquietude of +manner which attracted the professor's attention. He laid his finger on +her pulse, and touched her forehead. + +"You've taken cold, my dear," he said, with the most tender anxiety of +tone. "What have you been doing? How have you exposed yourself?" + +"I was out on the porch about an hour ago," replied she, languidly. "I +wanted to--to see if he was coming, you know. The snow came on me a +little, I believe, and I had on my slippers. But I didn't feel any +thing--any cold. I was out only a moment." + +Professor Valeyon turned his strong-featured face away from the lamp, so +that the shadow covered his expression. He could feel the heat of +Sophie's cheek through his coat, as she lay heavily on his shoulder; +heavily, but not half so heavily there as upon his heart. But, with the +physician's instinct, his voice was on that account all the more +cheerful. + +"Well, well, my little girl; it won't do to run any risks nowadays, +remember! I shall make you drink a big cup of hot water, with a little +tea and sugar in it, and go to bed early, with three or four extra +blankets. Meanwhile, come! let's go and see whether Cornelia has got +supper ready yet." So saying, the old gentleman gained his feet, +offering his arm with a bow, took up the lamp with his other hand, and +off they went, leaving Shakespeare's plaster bust placidly to face the +darkness alone, as he had often done before. + +The next morning the storm was over, and the sun came dazzling over the +spotless fields, but Sophie kept her bed, with bright, restless eyes, +and hot checks. The professor dreaded a return of the typhoid pneumonia, +and paced his study incessantly, in a voiceless fever of anxiety; +physically exhausting himself the better to affect quiet and unconcern +when in her room. He mentioned his fears to no one--not even to +Cornelia; besides, if care were taken, she might recover yet, without +fatal, or even serious danger. To herself, therefore, and to all who +inquired, he spoke of her attack as merely a cold, which must be nursed +for prudence' sake. Meanwhile, no signs of Bressant. Sophie said not a +word, but Cornelia showed uneasiness, and kept making suggestive remarks +to her father, and hazarding unsatisfactory explanations of his absence. +She never ventured to say any thing to her sister on the subject, +however. There was a gulf between the two that widened like a river, +hour by hour. + +Toward evening a letter came from the boarding-house, directed to +Professor Valeyon. It was in Abbie's handwriting, and must contain some +news of Bressant. The old gentleman shut himself up in his room, the +better to deal with the intelligence, and the paper rustled nervously +in his fingers as he read; but the news amounted to little, after all. + +"For fear dear Sophie and you should feel anxious about Mr. Bressant, I +will tell you all I know of his absence," said the letter. "A telegram +came for him yesterday morning about ten. Joanna, the servant, who took +it up to him, says Mr. Reynolds told her it was from New York. So I +suppose some friend there--you will probably be able to say who--has +been taken very dangerously ill, or perhaps is dead. The summons must +have been very urgent, for he left his room not ten minutes afterward, +and took the half-past ten o'clock train down. + +"I feel sure he will be back by to-morrow evening. Don't let your +daughters fail to be here to meet him." + +After reading this, and without pausing to indulge in casuistry, +Professor Valeyon betook himself straight to Sophie's chamber. + +"You've heard something!" said she, in a low, assured tone the moment he +entered. "A letter? give it me--I would rather read it myself." + +The professor gave it into her hand, with a smile; but Sophie's eyes +were too deep and dark for any smile to glimmer through. As she opened +it he turned his back upon her, and saw out of the window the sinking +sun redden the snow-covered hill-top above the road. + +"Yes, I'm sure he will be back to-morrow," said Sophie's quiet voice +after a minute or two. She made no comment on his having allowed any +thing to take him away at such a time--on the eve of his +marriage--without first sending word to her; but gave Abbie's letter +back into her father's keeping, and lay with closed eyes. He sat down in +the chair by the bedside, and presently noticed that she lay more +peacefully, and breathed inaudibly and easily, and that the feverish +flush was leaving her cheeks. A slight moisture, too, made itself +perceptible on her forehead. + +"Her life is in this fellow's hand!" thought the professor, and he +trembled to his very heart, but dared not ask himself wherefore. + +"Do you really think it would hurt me to sew, dear papa?" said she, at +length, looking up from her pillow. + +"Better let sewing and every thing else alone for the present, my dear; +it'll be enough work to get all well again by next Sunday." + +Sophie sighed. "I did so want to finish my wedding-dress all myself," +said she. "It needs only a few hours' work now, and Cornelia is so busy +on her own account, it's hard to ask her. Oh, yes! dear papa, I know how +glad she'd be to help me," she added quickly, seeing the old gentleman's +eyebrows meet, and his forehead redden. + +"I should hope she would! Must be very busy if she hasn't time to do so +much as that!" growled he. "I'll send her up to you, my dear." + +"Papa!" said Sophie, calling him back from the door; and it was not +until she had possession of his hand and was holding it against her +cheek that she went on. "Don't let the wedding be put off, if I +shouldn't be able to sit up on Sunday. I'll be carried down into the +guest-chamber, where he was ill for so long. Don't--papa, I know you +won't think hardly of me; but I feel a kind of superstition about that +particular day and hour: that if all is not done then, it never will be. +Am not I foolish? But do let it be so, and never mind wisdom!" + +There was a vein of strenuous earnestness only partly concealed beneath +her words and manner, which the gruff old gentleman, who was as +sensitive as a photographic plate, where his affections were concerned, +did not fail to note. He kissed her on both cheeks--a fully sufficient +answer to her request, and shuffled out of the room in his old slippers; +which, thanks to Sophie's filial attentions, still held together with +dying faith fulness. + +The rest of the day the two sisters passed together--Cornelia working +upon her sister's wedding-dress, and Sophie guiding her by directions +and suggestions. Not since they first began to grow apart, had there +been between them so great an appearance of sisterly love and +cordiality. Yet, if Cornelia allowed herself to think at all, it must +have seemed, in the light of her purpose regarding Bressant, as if she +was preparing a shroud rather than a wedding-garment. Or, perhaps, as +she observed the change which even so brief and light an illness had +made in Sophie's delicate face, there may have lurked, in the secret +places of her mind, a darker and guiltier thought than that. But let not +our condemnation be too unconditional, lest the precedent come home, +some day, to ourselves. It may astonish us, hereafter, to discover how +many of our most respectable acquaintances are murderers--only in +thought! + +But Sophie's condition seemed steadily to improve, and, by the morning +of the 30th, the professor apprehended no danger but from imprudence. +That she should attend Abbie's party was, of course, out of the +question; but there was no longer any obstacle in the way of Cornelia's +availing herself of the entertainment, if she were so inclined. + +Deadly and immitigable as woman's purpose is often represented to be, it +may, especially before she becomes thoroughly hardened to crime, be +swayed by shades of feeling or sentiment which would appear, to a man, +ridiculously trifling, and which, indeed, she could not herself explain +or calculate upon; and there is the more likelihood of this, in +proportion to the depth to which her emotions and affections are +involved in the affair. As to Cornelia, there are no means of +determining whether she ever wavered in her designs against her sister's +happiness, and her friend's constancy, or not; she, at any rate, decided +to go to the ball, and even condescended to accept Mr. Reynolds's tender +of his escort thither. There are a host of respectable motives always on +hand for such occasions, and Cornelia might be going either from a +curiosity to find out whether Bressant would return, and in order, if +so, to bring her sister the latest news; or, to obtain relief from the +monotony of home-life; or, to oblige Abbie, who counted upon her +appearance; or, to display her ball-dress, cut after the latest New-York +pattern; or, all these small matters may have been the wheels whereon +rolled the invisible car, but for which they would not have existed. + +As she was attiring herself, Sophie, who was seated in her deep +invalid-chair, looking at her, was seized by an uncontrollable longing +to put on her wedding-dress, and satisfy her mind as to its being a good +fit. There it lay, upon the sofa, and nothing could be easier than just +to slip into it. Cornelia, absorbed in her own crowded thoughts, never +dreamed of opposing the idea, and lent all necessary assistance to carry +it out. It was not until Mr. Reynolds had sent up word that the sleigh +waited at the door, and, gathering up her cloak and tippet, she had +kissed Sophie, left her, and was hurrying down-stairs with rustling +skirts, that she realized that she had given her parting salute to one +dressed as a bride! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +A DISAPPOINTMENT. + + + +There could not have been a better night for sleighing. The temperature +had risen considerably since the storm, and the snow, which had fallen +to the depth of a foot, was already packed down hard upon the road, so +that the runners seldom sank beneath the surface. Moreover, there was a +full moon, just pushing its deep orange circumference above the horizon. +It had chanced to come up just where a black skeleton forest stood out +against the sky, encouraging the fancy that it had somehow got entangled +in the branches, and had grown red in the face from struggling to get +out. But, ere the young people reached the scene of the entertainment, +the struggle was over; the perfect circle was calmly and radiantly +uplifting itself above the world, far beyond the reach of the +outstretched arms of the gnarled and black-limbed forest; yet did the +dark earth benefit by its defeat, in the chaste illumination which +descended upon its wintry countenance. + +Mr. Reynolds was perfectly happy; it is pleasant to reflect how small an +amount of bliss can overflow some souls. Cornelia was brief but kind in +her answers to his turbid and confused pourings forth; not that she paid +heed to any thing the poor fellow said--she was only occasionally aware +of his presence. Her mind was revelling in dreams of heated and exalted +imagination; she was filled with inspiration, as with the rich, +palpitating blast of a mighty organ; but the tumultuous chorus of her +thoughts produced upon her an effect of magnetism which found its +expression in a gentle graciousness of words and manner. + +She had made up her mind that the first person she should meet would be +Bressant; and, so full did she feel of victorious power, it seemed as +if, with scarcely a conscious effort, she could overbear and bring him +to her feet. Yes, and dictate the terms upon which she would consent to +receive his homage. What a pity that the key-notes of so few natures +correspond, at the critical moment, with our own; and that Providence +sees fit to forward, by even negative help, so small a proportion of our +superbly-conceived plans! + +It was half-past eight when they drew up at the boarding-house door. No +sooner had Cornelia set foot within the threshold, and caught sight of +Abbie's face, than it was borne in upon her that Bressant was not there; +and the former, after questioning her about Sophie's non-appearance, +confirmed her fear. He had not come, nor was it now probable that he +would arrive before morning. It would have been useless to expect him by +the late train, due at half-past ten, since, to avail himself of that, +it would be necessary to make a difficult connection by walking two or +three miles from one railway to another. + +After climbing to such a height, it was terrible to fall. Cornelia +had not allowed herself to anticipate the disaster, precisely because +it was so crashing. In a moment the great, rainbow-tinted bubble of her +hope and imagination had burst, leaving only a bitter and unpleasant +sense of the paltry and unclean materials--the soap-suds and +clay-pipe--wherewith it had been created. + +Furthermore, the polite fictions which she had lubricated her conscience +withal, regarding her desires and intentions, were shown up at precisely +their true value, and a very discreditable spectacle they made. Nothing +is more exasperating after a failure than to be stared out of +countenance by the unworthy means we have employed. During her progress +up-stairs to the dressing-room, and brief stay there, Cornelia had ample +leisure to review her thoughts and deeds during the latter months of her +life. What a waste of time, opportunity, and emotion! It was a tragedy +of ridicule and a farce of profound pathos. + +Her perception of these things was assisted by the depression which +reacted upon her previous excitement: it had an embarrassing way of +presenting, in the clearest colors, whatever in her conduct had been +most unwise and indefensible. She could have borne it easily had there +been as much as one stirring struggle for victory, even had the struggle +resulted in defeat. Her state of mind might have borne analogy to his +who, having deeply caroused overnight in celebration of some glorious +triumph, learned, upon coming to his racked and tortured senses the next +day, that it was a triumph for the other side. + +Had the sense of despair been less overwhelming, had Cornelia been +merely disappointed, rage would have taken the place of depression, and +her thoughts would have run in far different channels. But there was no +hope: this was her last chance of all: hereafter a rampart would be +erected against her, which she neither was able nor dared to scale. +There was no element in her position that could make it endurable, and +yet there was no escape. She had not enough spirit of enterprise left to +return home at once, but yielded herself with torpid insensibility to +whoever chose to make a suggestion. She wonderingly speculated as to how +she had ever been able to originate an idea herself. + +The evening dragged its slow length along, and dragged Cornelia with it. +To be where she was, was insupportable; but to go back to the Parsonage +was worse still; and the thought of the solitary drive thither with the +overflowing Mr. Reynolds filled her with a nauseating pain of +anticipation. + +It could not have been far from midnight when she awoke to a sense of +being alone and not far from the side-door into the yard. Her +partner--whoever he was--had gone to get her some ice-cream or a cup of +coffee. Cornelia did not wait for his return, but walked quickly and +unobserved to the door, which stood a few inches ajar, opened it, passed +through, and stood in the unconfined air. The keen intensity of the +tonic made her nostrils ache, and her uncovered bosom heave. She +unbuttoned one of her gloves, and, taking some snow in her hand, pressed +it to her warm temples, and then let it drop shivering into her breast. + +"It must feel like that to die, I suppose," thought she. "If I were +Sophie, now, that snow would be the death of me in two days: as it is, I +shall only have a cold in the head to-morrow. There seems to be no +reason in these things." + +A dark figure turned the farther corner of the house, and came +ploughing through the snow immediately under the eaves, dragging one +hand along the clapboards as it came. The crunching of the snow caught +Cornelia's ears, and she turned and recognized the figure in half a +breath. The great height, the massive breadth, the easy, springing +tread--it was Bressant from head to foot. He was buttoned up in a short +pea-jacket, and there was a round fur cap on his head. As Cornelia +turned upon him, he stopped a moment, standing quite motionless, with +the fingers of one hand resting on the side of the house. Then he came +close up to her and grasped her wrist with his gloved hand. + +"Where is Sophie?" demanded he in his rapid, muffled voice. + +"She's ill: she caught cold: she's at home," answered Cornelia, who, at +the first recognition, had felt a kind of twang through all her nerves, +and was now trying to control the effects of the shock. There was +something queer in Bressant's manner--in the way he looked at her. + +"But you came," rejoined he, stooping down and peering into her +beautiful, troubled face. He broke into a laugh, which terrified +Cornelia greatly, because he laughed so seldom. "One might know you'd +come. You thought I'd be here: you came to see me, and here I am. Will +Sophie get well?" + +"Oh, yes! she was much better. When I left she had on +her--wedding-dress." + +Bressant drew in his breath hissingly between his teeth, and his fingers +tightened a moment round Cornelia's wrist. The pain forced a sob from +her and turned her lips pale. He paid no attention to her, presently +dropped her wrist, and put his hands behind him, grinding the snow +beneath his heel, and looking down. + +"Whom is she going to marry?" was his next question, asked without +raising his head. + +"You!" exclaimed Cornelia, in astonishment and fear. The answer sprang +to her lips without forethought or reflection, so much had the strange +question startled her. + +But he again stooped down and peered into her eyes, watching the effect +of his words on her as he spoke them. + +"No, no! I am not he who promised to marry her. She wouldn't have me, if +I asked her: she don't know me. I'm going to marry some one else. +_She'll_ love me, no matter who I am. Shall I tell you her name?" + +Cornelia could only shiver--shiver--with dry mouth and dilated eyes. +Bressant put his hand on her shoulder, and drew her forward a step or +two, so that the white moonlight fell upon her. + +"Cornelia Valeyon is her name," said he, and then, as she remained +rigid, he bent forward, with a whispered laugh, and kissed her on the +face. + +"There! now we belong to each other--a good match, aren't we? Quick! +now; run into the house, and get your things on. You must walk home with +me, and we'll arrange every thing. Go! I shall wait for you here." + +She reentered the house, cold and dizzy, just as her partner arrived +with the coffee. She explained--what scarcely needed to be told--that +she felt faint: she must go up-stairs. In three minutes she had put her +satin-slippered feet into a pair of water-proof overshoes, pinned up +her trailing skirts, thrown on her long wadded mantle, with sleeves and +hood, and had got down-stairs again before "assistance" could arrive. +All the time, there was a burning and tingling where his lips had been, +but she would not put up her hand to touch the spot, and relieve the +sensation. It was, in a manner, sacred to her; albeit the sanctity was +largely mingled with bewilderment, remorse, and fear. When she came out, +Bressant was standing where she had left him, tossing a couple of +snow-balls from one hand to another. He dropped them as she approached, +and brushed the snow from his gloves. She took the arm he offered +her--timidly, and yet feeling that it was all in the world she had to +cling to. It was true--by that kiss she belonged to him, for it had made +her a traitor to all else on whom she had hitherto had a claim. Yet upon +how different a footing did they stand with one another from that which +she had prefigured to herself! This was he whom she was to have brought +vanquished to her feet! With one motion of his strong, masculine hand he +had swept away all her fine-spun cobwebs of opportunity and method, and +had laid his clutch upon the very marrow of her soul. But though she had +lost the command, she was party, if not principal, to the guilt. It was +he who had taken fire from her. + +"You remember last summer," said he, "that night when an arch was in the +sky? We didn't understand one another then, and I didn't understand +myself. But, during the last day or two, I've been thinking it all over. +I've had too good an opinion of myself all along." + +"What is it that you've been thinking?" asked Cornelia, feeling +repelled, and yet driven, by a piteous necessity, to know all the +contents, good or bad, of this heart which was her only possession. + +"Of all that had been said or done this last half-year. There's nothing +you care for more than me, is there?" he demanded, concentrating the +greatest emphasis into the question. + +"If you care for me--if I can be every thing to you"--Cornelia's voice +was broken and tossed upon the uncontrolled waves of fighting emotions, +and she could give little care to the form and manner of her speech. + +"I love you--of course I love you!--what else is there for me to do? But +I've been all this time trying to find out what love was. I thought I +loved Sophie, you know." + +Bressant's strange words and altered manner dismayed Cornelia. What was +the matter with him? She could not get it out of her head that some +awful event must have happened, but she knew not how to frame inquiries. +Bressant continued--a determined levity in his tone was yet occasionally +broken down by a stroke of feeling terribly real: + +"I was a great fool--you should have told me; you knew more about it +than I did. It was my self-conceit--I thought nothing was too good for +me. When I saw you I thought you were the flower of the world, so I +wanted you. Well--you are--the flower of the world!" + +"He does love me!" said Cornelia to herself, and she knew a momentary +pang of bliss which no consideration of honor or rectitude had power to +dull or diminish. + +"But, afterward," he went on, his voice lowering for an instant, "I saw +an angel--something above all the flowers of this world--and I was fool +enough to imagine she would suit me better still. You never thought so, +did you, Cornelia?" he added, with a half laugh; "well--you should have +told me!" + +How he dragged her up and down, and struck her where she was most +defenseless! Did he do it on purpose, or unconsciously? + +"I mistook worship for love--that was the trouble, I fancy. Luckily, I +found out in time it won't do to love what is highest--it can only make +one mad. Love what you can understand--that's the way! See how wise I've +become." + +Bressant's laugh affected Cornelia like a deadly drug. Her speech was +fettered, and she moved without her own will or guidance. + +"I found out--just in time--that I needed more body and less soul--less +goodness and--more Cornelia!" he concluded, epigrammatically. + +So this was her position. It could hardly be more humiliating. Yet how +could she rebel? for was not the yoke of her own manufacture? Indeed, +had she been put to it, she might have found it a difficult matter to +distinguish between the actual relation now subsisting between Bressant +and herself, and that which she had been, for months past, striving to +effect. He had met her half-way, that was all. + +But surely it was only during this absence that this idea of abandoning +Sophie, and turning to herself, had occurred to him. Half as a question, +half as an exclamation, the words found their way through Cornelia's +twitching lips-- + +"What has happened to you since you went away?" + +"Oh! since we love each other, there's no use talking about that at +present. If I had any idea of marrying Sophie, now, I should have to go +and tell her every thing. It's so convenient to be certain that +_nothing_ can change your love for me, Cornelia! No, no! I wouldn't be +so suspicious of you as to tell you now." + +"When am I to know, then?" she asked, fearful of she knew not what. + +"After we're married, there shall be a clearing up of it all. You'll be +much amused! By-the-way, I found out one queer thing--what my real name +is!" + +"Your real name!" + +"Yes--who I am; you know I said I wasn't the same who was engaged to +marry Sophie. Well, I'm not; he was a myth--there was no such person. I +always thought 'Bressant' was an _incognito_, didn't you? But it turns +out to be the only name I have! I hope you like it; do you think 'Mrs. +Bressant' sounds well?" + +"What does all this mean? What are you going to do with me? Are you +making a sport of me?" cried Cornelia, clasping both hands over +Bressant's arm, in a passion of helplessness. Much as she loved life, +she would, at that moment, have died rather than feel that she was +ridiculed and deserted by him. + +They had come to the brow of the hill on which the village stood, +overlooking the valley, which moon and snow together lit up into a sort +of phantom daylight. The moon hung aloft, directly above their heads, +and the narrow circumference of their shadows, lying close at their +feet, were mingled indistinguishably together. Cornelia, in the energy +of her appeal, had stopped walking, and the two stood, for a moment, +looking at one another. Seen from a few yards' distance, they would have +made a supremely beautiful and romantic picture. + +The stately poise of Bressant's gigantic figure--the slight inclination +of his head and shoulders toward Cornelia--presented an ideal model for +a tender and protecting lover. She, in form and bearing, the incarnation +of earthly grace and symmetry, her lovely upturned face revealed in +deep, soft shadows and sweet, melting lights, her rounded fingers +interlaced across his arm, her bosom lifting and letting fall +irregularly the cloak that lay across it--what completer embodiment +could there be of happy, self-surrendering, trusting, young womanhood? +And what were the fitly-spoken words--the apples of gold in this picture +of silver? + +"Cornelia," said Bressant, throwing aside the levity, as well as the +underlying passion, of his tone, and speaking with a slightly impatient +coldness, "don't you begin to be a fool as soon as I leave it off. You +may call what joins us together love, if you like, but it's not worth +getting excited about. You take me because you were jealous of Sophie, +and because you've compromised yourself. I take you because you're +beautiful to look at, and--because nobody else would have me! We shall +have plenty of money, which will help us along. But what is there in our +relations to make us either enthusiastic or miserable?--Come along!" + +This was the consummation of Cornelia's passionate hopes and torturing +fears, of her dishonorable intriguing and reckless self-desecration. She +became very calm all of a sudden, and, without making any rejoinder, she +"came along" as he bade her, and they descended the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +FOUND. + + + +Sophie, having carried her point regarding her wedding-dress, had +nothing better to do after Cornelia had left her than to give herself up +to reverie. She had a private purpose to sit up until her sister's +return, that she might hear all about Bressant, and why he had stayed +away so long and sent no word. That he had returned, expecting to meet +her at the ball, she entertained not the slightest doubt; nor was there +at this time any suspicion or misgiving in her mind about his fidelity +and love. + +Mankind's ignorance of the future is, beyond dispute, a blessing; yet we +could wish, for Sophie, that so much presentiment of what was to come +might be hers as to lead her to concentrate all possible happy thoughts +into the few hours that remained wherein she might yet be happy. She had +full scope and freedom to think what she would--no less than if a +hundred years of earthly bliss had awaited her. Her life had been full +of all manner of spiritual beauties and perfumes--a divine poem, though +written upon clay. Let only the harmony of sweet music float about her +now, and the shadow of what was to come be not cast over her. + +She sat in her deep, soft easy-chair, with its high back, and square, +roomy seat. An open-grate stove furnished light to the room, for Sophie +had blown out her candle. As the flame rose or sank, the various objects +round about stood visible, or vanished duskily away. Endymion, over the +mantel-piece, still slept as peacefully as ever, and the smile, though +forever upon his lips, seemed always to have but that moment alighted +there. How tenderly the lustrous touch of the moon brightened on his +white shoulder! + +The golden letters of the Lord's Prayer gleamed ever and anon from the +shadow above the bed, and sent the shining beauty of a sentence across +to Sophie's eyes; and the face of the cherub, with his chin upon his +hand, was turned upward in immortal adoration. Sophie's glance rested +thoughtfully upon one and then the other. They were incorporated into +her life. Would they have power to protect her from evil and suffering? +Well, the words of the Prayer settle that question most wisely. + +How silent the house was and how light it was out-doors! Sophie rose +from her chair by the fire and walked slowly to the window. A board +creaked beneath her quiet foot and a red coal fell with a gentle thud +into the ash-receiver. Then, as Sophie leaned against the window, she +heard the little ormolu clock, in the room below, faintly tinkle out the +half-hour after eleven. Before long--in an hour, perhaps--Cornelia would +be back, rosy with the cold, fresh, laughing, and full of news. Dear +Neelie! How Sophie wished that she might find a love as deep and a +happiness as perfect as had come to her. It hardly seemed fair that she +should monopolize so much of the world's joy. True, God knows best; but +Sophie, with her forehead against the cold window-pane, prayed that +Cornelia might speedily become as blessed as herself. Then she turned +to go back to her chair, casting a parting glance at the white road, +with the glistening track of sleigh-runners visible as far as the bend. +No moving thing was in sight. In stepping from the window her foot +caught in the skirt of her wedding-dress, and she narrowly escaped +falling. The loose board creaked again, dismally; but Sophie laughed at +her clumsiness, and, recovering her balance, reached her chair and sat +down in it. How warm and pleasant it was! The walls of the room seemed +to draw up cozily around the stove, and nod to one another +good-naturedly. They loved Sophie and would do all they could to make +her comfortable and secure. She sat quite still, and perhaps fell into a +light, half-waking slumber. + +A while afterward, she suddenly started in her chair, her head raised, +as if listening. The fire burnt as warmly as ever, but Sophie was +trembling incontrollably, and her heart was beating most unmercifully. +She walked quickly and blindly, with outstretched hands, to the window. +This time the ominous board forbore to creak. Its omen was fulfilled. + +Without hesitating, she threw up the window, and, unmindful of the +tingling inrush of cold air, she leaned out, and looked down through the +arched window of the porch. The bare vines that struggled across it +afforded no interception to the view of the two figures standing within. +Sophie gazed at them as a bird does at a snake; she could not take her +eyes away; she could not move nor utter a sound. It was like the +oppression and paralysis of a fearful dream. Was she dreaming? + +It was a terribly vivid dream, at any rate. She seemed to see one of +the figures--a woman--clasp the man's hand passionately in hers and +speak. The voice was known to her; it was as familiar as her own; but +the words it uttered made her sure she was asleep. Thank God! it wasn't +real. She would wake up in a moment, and shudder to think how ugly a +dream it had been. Oh, if she could only awaken before this conversation +went any further! It was breaking her heart: it was killing her. She had +heard of people who died in their sleep--was it from such dreams as +this? + +She seemed to have heard two voices--voices that she loved and knew as +well as her own heart--talking a horrible, unholy jargon about some +purpose--some plan--something that it was a sin even to listen to or +imagine; but, as in a dream, she had no choice but to listen. She tried +to shake off the delusion--to see, to prove that what she saw and heard +was false. But still it lasted, and lasted. Still those wicked sentences +kept creeping into her ears and deadening her heart. O God! would it +never cease--would there never be an end? + +At length the end seemed about to come. But, ah! the end was worst of +all. Shame--shame to her that such sinful imaginings should visit her +brain. She saw the figure of the man turn away as if to go; but the +woman caught him by the arm, and lifted her beautiful, guilty face up +toward his as if beseeching him for a parting kiss. She saw him stoop +his dark, bearded head, with a half-impatient gesture, and kiss the +beautiful woman's mouth, then motion her toward the house. "Make haste +and put on your travelling dress," he seemed to say; "I'll walk up the +road a little way and wait for you." + +Sophie found power to slip down from the window after that, but she knew +she was dreaming still. She heard a stealthy footstep on the stairs and +along the entry; it seemed to pause, and hesitate a moment at her door; +but then it went on and entered Cornelia's room. If she only could go to +her lover, Sophie thought. If she only could speak to him and feel his +arms around her. And why should she not? he had but just gone up the +road. She would slip out and run after him. It was deadly cold: she was +in her white wedding-dress. Yes; but then it was a dream--nothing but a +dream--no harm could come of it. + +She lifted herself softly from the floor, and moved toward the door. She +passed the looking-glass on the dressing-table as she went, and cast a +darkling glance into it. A haggard ghost seemed to stare back at her, +with crazy eyes. A braid of brown, silky hair had become loosened, and +was creeping down upon the spectre's shoulders. + +Sophie stole along as noiselessly as a cat. She descended the staircase, +glided down the passage, opened the outer door, and was on the frozen +porch. The chill of the air passed through her as if she had been indeed +but a spirit. The dream must surely be a dream of death. She ran down +the icy path to the gate, and, looking along the road, saw that a tall +figure had nearly reached the spur of the hill, around which the road +turned. By hurrying she would yet be able to over-take him. She passed +through the gate without causing a creak or a rattle, gathered up her +light skirt, and started to run as speedily as she might. + +The cold snow penetrated through her thin slippers and made her feet +ache and sting. The breeze forced a cruel entrance through the bosom of +her dress, as if to freeze the heart that was beating so. As she ran on, +she began to pant so heavily it seemed as if every breath must be her +last. The familiar road, the well-known outline of the hills, the +stone-walls, the stretch of woods to the left, where she had walked so +often last fall, all looked now ghastly and unreal--a world whose only +sun was the moon--a fitting world for such a dream as this. + +Still she staggered onward, slipping in the polished ruts of the +sleigh-runners, plunging into the deep snow. Her body was cold as the +winter itself, but her head was burning as if a fire were within it. She +reached the bend, and her eyes strained wildly up the road. There! far +ahead, marked black against the ghastly snow--there! still moving +away--farther away. Would she ever reach him? + +It was hopeless, and yet she kept on. Rather than let him go without +having assured her it was all a wicked dream--without having hugged her +in his arms, and given her her good-night kiss--without having called +her his own, only Sophie, and promised he would always love her and no +other--rather than give up all this, she would die in the pursuit, and +it were well that she should die. So on she ran: her brain reeled, she +could scarcely feel whether her limbs yet moved: there was a griping in +her heart, and her breath came in short gasps of agony. The earth +darkened and tipped before her eyes, but her resolve never faltered. To +reach him, or die. Oh! how gladly she would die, if only she might +reach him. Was not that he--there--only a short way on? Might not her +voice reach him? Would not some good angel bear it to him? Even then she +stumbled, and fell forward on her knees; but, ere she sank quite down, +she threw forth a wild, piercing, despairing cry, giving to it her whole +desolate soul-- + +"Bressant! Bressant!" + +Then blackness obliterated every thing. But Bressant, as he walked +heavily along, encompassed with bitter and miserable thoughts, suddenly +halted, as if an iron hand had been laid upon his shoulder. Either he +had actually heard a faint echo of that unearthly cry, or his spiritual +ear had taken cognizance of the call of Sophie's soul. He turned himself +about, with a quaking heart. There was the long white road, but no human +being was visible upon it. Yet he knew that Sophie's voice had called +him. She must be near. Slowly he began to walk back, half dreading to +behold her image rise before him, with deep, reproachful eyes. + +He had not gone twenty yards, when he started back, having almost set +his foot upon something which lay face downward in the snow, clad in a +dress almost as white. He would not have seen her but for her brown +hair, which, falling loosely about, was caught and stirred by the +inquisitive breeze. She herself lay quite still. + +Bressant took her beneath the arms, and lifted her up. Crouching down, +he supported her head against his shoulder, and brushed away the snow +that had adhered to her face. There was a cut upon her chin, but the +blood, after running a few moments, had congealed. Her eyes were not +quite shut, but the lids were stiff and immovable. The mouth, too, was a +little open. Was it the moonlight that gave her that death-like look? or +was she dead indeed? + +The young man broke out into a long, wavering cry. It was not weeping; +it was not laughter; yet it bore a resemblance to both. It curdled his +own blood, but he could not repress it. It was the voice of +overstrained, unendurable emotion, and a horrible voice it was to hear. +He feared he was losing his senses--looking in that white, motionless +face, and uttering such a cry! At last, however, it died away, and there +was silence. The silence was almost worse than the cry--the utter +silence of a winter night. + +"What shall I do?" he said to himself, helplessly. + +The unearthly voice, and the discovery to which it had led, following +the other events of the night, had made Bressant unfit to deal with this +matter after his usual ready and practical style. But he would have +found the problem an awkward one at his best. How could he appear at the +Parsonage? What account could he give there of this lifeless body? What +account could he give of it to himself? He was utterly bewildered and +aghast. It seemed that the dead had risen from the grave, to drag him +relentlessly back to the fullest glare of earthly ignominy--to the +keenest experience of human suffering. And yet, did he quite deserve it? +Was there no grain of leaven in his lump of sinfulness and weakness, if +all were known? He is a hardened criminal, indeed, who can find no hope +in the thought of appealing from human judgment to Divine! + +Meanwhile, Mr. Reynolds had been luxuriating in a very unmistakable +sense of injury. To some persons there are a positive relief and +gratification in being really wronged: it raises their estimate of their +own importance: by virtue of their title to feel angry, disappointed, or +deceived, they can take their place in a higher than their ordinary +rank. So Mr. Reynolds, finding himself qualified to plead a clear case +of absolute and unwarrantable desertion, held up his head, and bore +himself with becoming dignity. + +His dignity did not, however, interfere with his seeking to drown his +slight in the good, old-fashioned way. He solaced himself beyond +prudence with the varied products of the hotel bar, and then settled +himself solitary in his sleigh and jingled homeward. His road took him +past the Parsonage, and he enlivened the lonely way by scraps of songs, +reflections upon the perfidy of women, and portentous yawns at intervals +of two or three minutes. In fact, by the time he had gone a mile the +most predominant sensation he had was sleepiness, and half a mile more +came very near making a second Endymion of him. From this, however, he +was preserved by the very sudden stoppage of his sleigh, which threw him +on his knees against the dasher, and forcibly knocked his eyes open. He +rolled over to the ground, but, happening to light on his feet, he stood +unsteadily erect, and asked a very tall and powerful man, who was +holding his horse's head, when he was going to let that drop? + +Receiving no intelligible answer, he stumbled in the powerful man's +direction, perhaps contemplating the performance of some deed of +desperate valor. Meanwhile the object of his hostility had relinquished +his hold of the horse, and appeared kneeling on the ground, supporting +the form of a woman, dressed in a tasteful white dress, with dark, +disordered hair lying around her colorless face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +LOST. + + +Mr. Reynolds immediately paused, and regarded this group for some +moments with an air of singular sagacity and archness. + +"I say, young fellow," ejaculated he, at length, with an evident effort +to attain distinctness of utterance, "that sort of thing won't do, you +know." + +Bressant looked up and recognized the rustic bacchanalian for the first +time. He had always had a peculiar antipathy to this young gentleman; +but at this moment it was intensified into a loathing. How could he ask +assistance from such a degraded creature as this? + +The recognition had been mutual, and Mr. Reynolds, tacking unsteadily +around, brought himself to bear in such a position as to catch a fair +view of Sophie's face, with the spot of blood on her chin. The first +glance so terrified him, that he utterly, forsook his footing, and came +abruptly to the ground, never once taking his eyes from the face, all +the way. But the shock of his fall, and the awful solemnity of what he +saw, sobered him considerably. He turned to Bressant, and eyed him with +anxious earnestness. + +"Why, you're the fellow she's engaged to, ain't you? What on earth's +been the row? She ain't dead, is she? How did she get here? In her +wedding-rig, too, by golly!" + +Bressant's frame vibrated with a savage impulse; but Mr. Reynolds, not +being of a sensitive temperament, was not at all disconcerted. + +"Well, say, I guess she'd better be fetched home, first thing," said he, +bestirring himself to arise from the chilly seat he had taken. "Lucky I +happened along, too. Guess you was hoping I might, wasn't you? Well, you +hoist her under the arms, and I'll hang on by the feet--ain't that it? +and we'll have her into the sleigh in no time." + +"Don't touch her!" said the other, fiercely. "Let her alone, you drunken +fool!" + +"Now, look here, Mr. Bressant," rejoined Bill Reynolds, resting his +hands on his knees, and looking intently in Bressant's face, "I may not +be rich and a swell, like you are; but I guess I'm an honest man, any +way, as much as ever you be; and I ain't insulting nobody by helping +take home a poor frozen girl. I don't care if she is engaged to you. You +don't mean to keep her here till morning do you? and seeing she ain't +married yet, I guess the right place for her to be in, is her father's +house." + +Perhaps it was the moonlight, glinting on Bill's immovable eye-glasses, +that gave extraordinary impressiveness to his words; or it may have been +Bressant's reflection, that this young country bumpkin, sullied with +drink, coarse and ignorant though he was, would have probably found his +sense of equality in no way diminished, had he known more of the facts +to which the present catastrophe was a sequel; at all events, he made no +further objections. His manner changed to an almost submissive +humbleness, and, without more words, he helped Bill to place the +insensible woman in the sleigh. + +"That's the talk," remarked Mr. Reynolds, as he drew the sleigh-robe +over her. "Now, then, Mr. Bressant, just you jump in and hold on to her, +and I'll lead the horse along. We'll be there in half a shake." + +"No," replied Bressant, after a mental conflict as violent as it was +brief; "I'll lead the horse myself." The only pleasure now left to this +young man was to insult and torture himself to the utmost of his +ingenuity. He had forfeited all right to protect or care for Sophie, and +it was with a savage satisfaction that he resigned it to Bill Reynolds, +as being the worthier and better man. It was the quixoticism of +self-degradation, but was doubtless not without some wholesome +influence. + +In three minutes more they were at the Parsonage-gate. They made a +stretcher of the sleigh-robe, and carried Sophie in on it. The gate, +flapping-to behind them, sounded like a fretful and querulous complaint. +As they mounted the porch-steps, which creaked and crackled beneath +their weight, the door was opened by Cornelia, in her travelling-dress. +Her face expressed so vividly the unspeakable horror which she felt as +her eyes rested on her sister's half-opened lids, that Bressant, seeing +it, was stricken anew with the perception of his own misery. As Cornelia +looked up from the pure and innocent features--which never had worn an +awful and forbidding expression until now, when all power of expression +was gone--her glance and Bressant's met; but, after a moment's +encounter, both dropped their eyes, with an involuntary shudder. Their +trial and sentence were condensed into so seemingly brief a space. + +But Bill Reynolds neither dealt in nor appreciated such refinements upon +the good old ways of communicating sentiments. + +"Good-evening, Miss Valeyon," exclaimed he. "I guess we didn't expect to +see one another again to-night. Pray don't imagine, miss, that I bear +you any grudge. At times like this personal considerations don't +count--not with me. I'll shake hands with you, Miss Valeyon, first +chance I get, and we'll be just as much friends as ever we was before. +That's the right way, I guess." + +The door of the guest-chamber stood open, and the sleigh-robe, with its +burden, was laid upon the bed whereon Bressant had spent so many weary +days. Then the voice of the professor, who had been awakened by the +noise and the sound of feet, was heard from the top of the stairs, +demanding to know what was the matter. + +"Come down," said Bressant, stepping to the guest-chamber door. "Be +quick!" + +He spoke more slowly and deeply than was his wont. In spite--or perhaps +in consequence--of his abasement, forlornness, and unworthiness, he +showed a dignity and impressiveness which were novel in him. The +boyishness, vivacity, and motion, had quite vanished. There were a depth +and hollowness in his eyes which gave a singular power to his face. +There must have been a vein of genuine strength and nobleness in the +man, or he would have been too much crushed to show any thing but weak +despair or brutal sullenness. Had Professor Valeyon's attention been +directed to the point, he might have recognized his pupil as being now +thoroughly grounded in the elements of emotional experience. + +The old gentleman, in dressing-gown and slippers, came thumping hastily +down-stairs, in response to Bressant's summons. The strange solemnity in +the latter's tone, no less than the ominousness of the hour, probably +gave him premonition of some disaster. He reached the threshold of the +room, and paused a moment there, settling his spectacles with trembling +fingers, and looking from one silent face to another. The room was +lighted only by the declining moon, which shone coldly through the +windows. The bed, and that which was on it, were in shadow. In an +instant or two, however, the professor's eyes made the discovery to +which none of those who stood about had had the nerve to help him. And +then the old man proved himself to be the most stout-hearted of them +all. He only said "Sophie" in a voice so profoundly indrawn as scarcely +to be audible; then walked unfalteringly across the room, bent over the +bed, and proceeded to examine whether there were yet life in his +daughter or not. Even the moonlight seemed to wait and listen. + +"Bring a candle," said be, presently, breaking the awful silence. + +Cornelia brought it, and the warmer light inspired a sickly flicker of +hope into the expectant faces. The little ormolu-clock on the +mantel-piece whirred, and struck half-past one. As the ring of the last +stroke faded away, Professor Valeyon raised himself, and turned his face +toward the others. So strongly did his soul inform his harsh and +deeply-lined features, that it seemed, for a moment, as if there were a +majestic angel where he stood. + +"Be of good cheer," quoth the old man--for no smaller words than those +which Christ had spoken seemed adequate to clothe his thought; "she is +not dead; we shall hear her speak again." + +Bressant threw up his arms, as if about to shout aloud; but only gave +utterance to a gasping breath, and, stepping backward, leaned heavily +against the wall, near the door. Cornelia, standing in the centre of the +room, broke into quivering, lingering sobs, opening and clinching her +hands, which hung at her side. Bill Reynolds, however, being overcome +with joy, at once gave intelligible manifestation of it. + +"Good enough!" cried he, slapping his leg, and looking from one to +another with a giggle of relief. "Bully for her! Bless you, _I_ knew +Sophie Valeyon warn't dead. Speak again! I believe you. _She'll_ tell us +what's the matter, I guess." + +Professor Valeyon rapidly and collectedly gave his directions as to what +steps were to be taken, and in a few minutes every thing was being done +that skill could do. Snow was brought in to encourage back the life it +had dismayed, and camphor and coffee awaited their turn to take part in +the resuscitation. Slow and reluctant it was, like dragging a dead +weight up from an unknown depth. More than another hour had passed away +before Sophie's eyelids quivered, and a slight tremor moved her lips. +By-and-by she opened her eyes, slowly and uncertainly, let them close +again, and once more opened them; and, after several inaudible efforts, +there came, like an echo from an immeasurable distance, one word, twice +repeated: + +"Bressant! Bressant!" + +They looked around for him, but he was not in the room, nor in the +house. Questioning among themselves, none could tell whether it were an +hour or a minute since he had departed. When life began to take fresh +hold on her he had so loved and wronged, his heart had failed him, and, +without a word, he had gone out and away. But not to escape; for on no +heart was the weight of sorrow and suffering so heavy as on his. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +MOTHER AND SON. + + +The grand ball at Abbie's was still in progress, though showing signs +of approaching dissolution, when Bressant entered the house quietly at a +side-door, and crept up to his room. He wished not to be seen or heard +by anybody; but it happened that Abbie saw him, and the sight partly +alarmed and partly relieved her. She could now account for the +mysterious disappearance of Cornelia some hours before. But why had +Bressant returned so secretly? and why were his movements all so +surreptitious? Something must be out of order, either at the Parsonage +or elsewhere. She reflected and conjectured, and of course became +momentarily more and more uneasy. Nor did a short visit to his door +relieve her apprehensions: a confused and non-descript sound had +proceeded from within, as if the young man were packing up. Whither +could he be going, she asked herself, on the very eve of his marriage? + +It is never difficult to find cause for anxiety; but it seemed to Abbie +that the misgivings she entertained were reasonable and logical. +Bressant had made up his mind to desert Sophie, because the fortune +which he had all his life considered his own turned out to belong to +another, on whose generosity he was too proud or too suspicious to +depend. He was going off, either to struggle through poverty to a +fortune of his own making, or, giving himself up to his misfortune, to +remain all his life in want and misery; or, perhaps--Abbie did not +openly admit this alternative, but still, knowing what she thought she +did of his nature and the circumstances, the suspicion had +existence--perhaps, in conjunction with a certain evil-disposed person +in New York, he contemplated fraudulently absconding. + +Now, Abbie imagined that the key whereby alone all these difficulties +could be unlocked, lay in her own hands. It was a key of which, so long +as her own interest alone had been concerned, she had refused to avail +herself; but, when the welfare of those she loved was called into +question, she made up her mind (in spite of pride--her strongest passion +next to love) to make use of it without hesitation. + +When the last guests had taken their departure, Abbie went to her room, +and looked at herself in the glass, by the light of a kerosene-lamp. She +was dressed plainly, though becomingly enough, in black silk; a lace cap +rested on her gray hair; her face was worn and wrinkled, but had a fine +expression about it, that would have recalled former beauty to the +memory of any one who had known her in early life. She was deeply +excited, without being at all nervous, the excitement being so +profoundly rooted as to be really a part of herself. + +"Why am I happy?" she asked herself. "No, not because I've buried all my +pride. Because I've found a reason to justify me in burying it: that's +why!" + +She went, for the third time that night, to Bressant's door, and this +time turned the latch and pushed it open. He was sitting at his table, +with his head on his arms. His trunk and a large iron-bound box lay +packed and strapped beneath the window, which was thrown wide open. The +rush of air between that and the door roused the young man: he got +slowly to his feet, and came forward. + +"I don't want to see you," said he, with a heavy utterance. "I warn you +to go away. You and I had better have nothing to say to each other." + +"We must; the time to speak has come!" she returned. "I've come to you, +because you could not bring yourself to rely on me. It's your own want +of faith--" + +"You'd better not go on," interrupted Bressant, with a strange smile. "I +had more faith than you imagine. But there are some mountains that faith +can't move." + +"Why do you still keep me off?" cried Abbie, in a tone which might have +made his heart bleed, except that of late it had been stabbed so often. +"Good God! am I so repulsive to you that, for the sake of being happy +and comfortable all your life, you can't bring yourself to recognize my +existence? Don't imagine I want to buy your love or toleration with this +money of mine. I want nothing in exchange--nothing! I can't help the +knowledge that I shall have made you rich, and so put happiness in your +power; but I ask no acknowledgment--no return. Take every thing and go! +Leave me here and believe that I am dead! Is that enough?" + +"A great deal too much! You'll be sorry you've said all this. If you +knew what you were talking about, you wouldn't have said a word of it." + +"Oh, you are hard to please, indeed!" exclaimed Abbie, gazing at him and +shuddering. "I pray God your heart is so cold to no one else as to me! +Poor Sophie! She would die at one such word." + +"Don't speak her name," said Bressant, in a tone so stern as to be +equivalent to a threat. + +He held his eyes down, so that the ugly gleam in them was hidden. Abbie +had no thought of fearing him as yet, and she would have her say. + +"Do you think I don't know you're going to leave her? If it's because +you don't love her, I can say no more. You are beyond any help in this +world. But if you do, let me save her, even if I must oblige you in +doing it! You know little of her love, though, if you think she can be +happier with you rich than poor. Oh! are you so cold yourself as to +believe you are acting generously to her in this? Go back to her, or she +will die!" + +The old woman took fire as she spoke, and many of the signs of age were +for the time obliterated. Some of the power and brilliancy of her youth +shone again in her eyes; her form seemed to acquire a different and +statelier contour. In the earnestness of her speech, involuntary +gestures accompanied her words; free from all exaggeration, and so truly +and gracefully fitted to her meaning as to be virtually invisible. But +Bressant was not won by it: his expression grew more ugly and repellent +with every successive sentence. + +"You fool!" said he, coming one heavy step nearer, and frowning down +upon her; "I warned you away; I told you to be silent. You've meddled +with what was no concern of yours; you've thrust yourself where you had +no right to come--" + +"No right!" she interrupted, with an intensity of indignant emphasis +that seemed adequate to smite to the ground the towering figure that +faced her. Then, clasping her hands, and in a voice of yearning, +ineffable tenderness, she added, "Oh, I have prayed for you, and wept +for you, and loved you so! For your own sake, my darling, do not use +such words to me!" Here she held out her arms, and tears ran hot down +her faded cheeks. "Am I not your mother? Are you not my son?" + +"No!" answered Bressant. + +He threw so tremendous a weight of malignant energy into the utterance +of this single word, although not raising his voice higher than his +usual tone, that the moral effect upon the woman was as if he had dealt +her a furious blow on the breast. Completely stunned at first, she stood +as if dead, except that her body, upright and rigid, vibrated slightly +from side to side, like a column about to fall. So sudden, too, had been +the shock, that her arms still remained outstretched, and the track of +her tears still glistened upon her cheeks, tears shed so utterly in vain +as to acquire a trait of ghastly absurdity. + +As sense and reflection began to dawn again, the first instinctive +defence she attempted was that of incredulity. It was to gain +breathing-space rather than from any hope in its efficacy. But +afterward, following the ability to hear and the capacity to comprehend, +the grim reality settled darkly down. Her life for the last twenty-five +years, then, had been a miserable blunder; her love, hopes, and fears +wasted, and turned to ridicule; her self-sacrifice, a wretched +self-deception, a throwing of all possibilities of happiness into the +bottomless pit, whence no return could ever come to her; every thought, +aspiration, and desire, which had visited her heart had been a +mockery--meaningless and empty. This was the reality to which she was +awakened. And, lest this should not be sufficient, here stood one before +whom she had abased and humbled herself, whose insolence she had borne +meekly and lovingly, whose feet she had set upon her neck. Here he +stood, insolent and unfeeling still; a false impostor, whom might God +refuse to pardon! + +And who and what was he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for +him? Surely--surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he? + +These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which +were now awful to behold--eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant +forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by +impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an +amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have +swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to +contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength. + +"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head. +"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault +and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive +yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can +regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!". + +In this last sentence the tone of mockery he had assumed was somewhat +overstrained; a suspicion of underlying sincerity grated through it. + +"Don't say you didn't know!" said Abbie, in a guttural voice, clasping +and wringing her hands, and turning her head from one side to another; +"don't dare to say it! No--no! you did--you did! You did know it, and +God will punish you--God will condemn you! He must--He will!" She could +not endure to believe that, having been defrauded in her love, she was +to be defrauded also in her hate and thirst for revenge. She could live +by either; but to be deprived of both was death! + +Bressant made no reply to her uncanny petition, and a silence followed. +Abbie stood wringing her hands, waving her head, and drawing her breath +sobbingly between her teeth. Was she the same woman--stately, and almost +beautiful--who had spoken so loftily and tenderly but a few minutes +before? Are human generosity and affection founded on no securer basis? +Her appearance was now revolting. Suddenly a thought struck her. + +"Ah! but she--_she_ can't escape," she broke forth, seizing upon the +idea with a grisly eagerness of exultation. "You can't get _her_ away +from me; I know her, oh! I know her, and I condemn her, I hate her--God! +how I hate her. She shall never be forgiven--never, never. You can never +cheat me out of _her_, for I know her." + +Abbie pressed both hands to her head. + +"You had better hold your tongue, old woman," Bressant said, in a low +voice, and a deadlier passion than anger looked from his eyes as he +fastened them upon her. "You're so hungry to send a soul to hell, take +care you don't find yourself there. Do you think your past life can save +you? Wait till I've told you what it has been. You began by blasting a +true man's life, trusting too easily, against all internal evidence, to +the lies that were told you about him. Next, you married the liar, not +loving him, but so that the other might hear it, and believe you had +forgotten him; so you acted a lie to him, and prostituted yourself +bodily and spiritually to gratify your pride and revenge. Not the sort +of thing that gets people to heaven, so far, is it?" + +Abbie still pressed her hands to her head, and stared before her without +speaking. + +"You were false to your marriage vows; after that, you neglected your +husband no less than he you; you never tried to make yourself lovable to +him; you were the only wronged one! you could do no wrong yourself! At +last you had a son." + +She raised her eyes, which, during the last few minutes had become +bloodshot, and fixed them fearfully upon the young man's face, as he +continued: + +"You loved him, as most females do love their young, and yet not so +generously as most. It was not as his father's child, but only as your +own, that he was dear to you; he was _your_ child, a part of yourself, +and you loved him only because you loved yourself. + +"When he was still a baby you left your husband's house, and thereby, if +justice were done, forfeited the recognition of good women, and pure +society; but you took great credit to yourself because you left your son +and your money behind you. Was it nothing in the balance, then, the +scandal, worse than any poverty, which the recovery of your property +would have caused? Nothing but self-sacrifice, to leave a sickly child +to all the advantages that wealth could give it? Well, a month +afterward, in spite of wealth, your son died." + +At this announcement, Abbie's convulsive strength, which had thus far +served to keep her erect and motionless, exhaled itself in a long groan, +and left her placid and nerveless. Seeing her about to fall, Bressant +put forth his hands and grasped her arms below the shoulder, holding her +thus while he went on. Her eyes were closed and her head fell forward on +her bosom; but, so blinded was the young man by the remorseless passion +which had gradually been working up within him, he failed to perceive +that the old woman's ears were no longer sensible to his voice, nor her +heart sensitive to his words. + +"He died, and I was younger than he, but stronger, and more like my +father. I was put in his place, and was called by his name. I grew up +proud of what I thought my aristocratic birth! I resolved to become the +most famous of mankind, and I found an angel and was going to marry her. +But the evil began to come with the good: it began long ago, and in many +ways, and I tried to overcome it, or provide against it, one way or +another. You benevolent people had led me into a battle-field, unarmed, +and then left me to fight my way through; and I should have done it, +too, but at the last I had myself to fight against, and then _I_ gave +in. Why, _I_ had been dead and buried more than twenty years--why don't +you laugh at that?--and had been imposed upon all that time by this +miserable nameless outcast, myself! whose father's name was Adultery and +his mother's Sin. That was a parentage to be proud of, wasn't it? And +yet, I swear before God, I'm better contented it should be so, than to +be the son of an honest marriage, with such a woman as you for my +mother." + +As he loosened the hold of one hand, to emphasize this oath, the +senseless body, which he had been upholding, swung round, and swayed, +toward the floor. He dropped the arm which remained in his grasp, and +the red flush on his cheek and forehead died away into pallor, as he +looked down at the dark heap of clothes lying at his feet. Finally he +stooped down, and lifted her on to the sofa. + +"She's not dead," muttered he, after scrutinizing the woman's face for a +moment; "she has her punishment, though, like the rest of us." + +He wrote an address on a couple of pieces of paper which he found in the +drawer of the table, and fastened them to the box and trunk with some +mucilage. Then he took his fur cap, and having banged on the fat Irish +servant-girl's door, and told her that her mistress was lying insensible +in his study, he left the house without delay. It wanted still an hour +to the time for the earliest morning train to New York, and, as the +young man did not care to subject himself to questions and remarks from +the officials at the village depot, he determined to walk down the +track, a distance of between four and five miles, to the station below. +Off he started accordingly, and, arriving there in ample time, was able +to eat a good breakfast of cold meat, hard-boiled eggs, and +crackers--all the solid contents of the refreshment-room--before his +train got in. He bought his ticket, stepped on board, flung himself into +a seat, and left all behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +WHERE TWO ROADS MEET. + + +The velvet-cushioned seat on which he sat felt very comfortable, and +the great speed at which he was being carried along was agreeable to +him. He had been busily occupied, with little rest of any kind, and +scarcely any sleep, for nearly three days; and his mind had been all the +time engrossed by the most harrowing thoughts and experiences. It was +all over now; nothing could ever again give him apprehension or anxiety; +the past was dead and never could live again; the future was arranged, +and it was simple enough: he, and the woman who had given him birth, +would sail together for Europe on Monday morning, at twelve o'clock. He +would have abundant wealth--all the property had been converted into +ready money, and would be taken with them--and he might live as +luxuriously, as sensually, as much like a pampered animal as he pleased, +or as he could. He would forget that he had a mind, or a heart, or a +soul; they had none of them served him in good stead; but he had some +reliance on his body. There were few that could compare with it in the +world, and he felt convinced that he should be able to derive a great +deal of enjoyment out of it before the time for its death and decay came +round. At all events, he was resolved that no form of indulgence to his +bodily appetites should go unproved; and when one grew stale he would +try another. With such enormous vitality and capacity to be and to +appreciate being voluptuous, he could hardly fail to avenge himself for +the hardships he had undergone thus far. + +So he leaned back on the crimson velvet-cushion of his seat, and felt +very comfortable and composed, thinking of nothing in particular. He +became pleasantly interested, as the daylight began to make things +visible without, in trying to count the number of wires on the +telegraph-poles. It would have been easy enough if they had only kept +along at an invariable level; but they were always rising--rising--then +jumping through the pole with a snap!--then ducking suddenly--sinking, +crossing one another--sometimes scudding along close to the ground, +then flying up beyond the range of the window--anon scooting beneath +a dark arch--now indistinguishable against a pine-wood--then +rising--rising--jumping--ducking--sinking--as before. Though exerting +all his faculties of observation, it was impossible to be quite certain +how many wires there were. + +He was nearly alone in the car, and would probably continue to be for an +hour or so at least. He reversed the seat in front of him, and put up +his feet, leaving the telegraph-wires to scud and dodge unnoticed. He +fixed his eyes upon the sweltering stove in the farther corner of the +car. There was a roaring fire within, as he could tell by the vivid red +that glowed through the draught-holes beneath the door, and showed here +and there along the cracks. The sides of the car against which the stove +stood was protected with zinc; a number of short sticks of wood were +piled beside it, ready to replenish the fire, and some of them were +already smoking a little, as if in anticipation. Presently the brakeman +came in, with a flurry of cold air, his neck and head rolled up in a +dirty-brown knit woolen tippet, and clumsy gloves on his hands. He took +the poker, and opened the stove-door with it, peeped into the red-hot +interior a moment, grasped a solid chunk of wood from the pile, and +popped it in cleverly; then he stood for a moment, patting the stove +with his gloved hands, to warm them, till, in response to the whistle, +he dashed out, slamming the doors as only car-doors can be made to slam, +and Bressant could dimly distinguish him, through the frosted window, +working away at the brake. + +They drew up, with much squeaking and grating, at a small, +snuff-colored, clap-boarded depot, where a boy, about sixteen, with a +big green carpet-bag, kissed an elderly lady in a black hood, who was +evidently his mother, and jumped aboard with his bag, in a great hurry, +lest she should behold the tears in his eyes. He entered the car in +which Bressant sat, and established himself and his bag on the seat +immediately in front of that upon which the former's feet were resting. + +The snuff-colored station and the woman in the black hood slipped away, +and were seen no more. The boy, after scratching a peep-hole through the +frost-work on his window, and taking a last survey through it of the +snow-covered fields he was leaving, produced a large blue-spotted +handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers, and retired with it into +the privacy of his own feelings. + +He was a rather delicate-looking boy, with large gray eyes and soft +brown hair, and was evidently not much in the habit of traveling. +Perhaps this was the first time he had ever left home, thought Bressant, +in the idleness of his inactive mind. His mother was a widow; her dark +dress and black hood, and pale, over-worked face looked like it. +Besides, if the boy had had a father, of course he would have been down +to see him off. Probably there were sisters, too; the boy looked somehow +as if he had been brought up with sisters; but they would not have +followed him down to the station; they kissed him good-by at the +house-door, leaving it to his mother to see the very last of him. For be +had resolved to go forth into the world and make his fortune, not to +encumber his poor mother with his support any longer. He was going, +probably, to New York, to be a clerk or an errand-boy in some dry-goods +store, or banking-house, or insurance-office. Once a week--oftener, +perhaps--he would write home to his mother, sending his love to her and +to the girls, telling them how much he wanted to see them all again, but +that he was doing pretty well, and was working, and going to work, very +hard. He would be rich some day, and they should all come to New York +then and live in his house on Fifth Avenue! + +Bressant, comfortably extended on his two seats, with his long future of +bodily case and indulgence opening before him--his freedom from all ties +to bind him to any spot, or necessities to compel him to any +labor--Bressant found that the thought of this innocent boy, going forth +into the world, with his green carpet-bag, his loving heart, his +assurance of being loved, his ambition to establish his mother and +sisters on Fifth Avenue, was becoming quite annoying to his mental +serenity. He would think of him no more, therefore, and, to aid himself +in this resolve, he closed his eyes, so as to avoid seeing him. Being +really somewhat weary after his manifold exertions and continued +sleeplessness, his eyes closed very naturally. + +But the boy was not to be so easily got rid of. He almost immediately +turned round in his seat, and directed a steadfast gaze out of his gray +eyes at Bressant's reclining figure. Presently, he pronounced, in a low +voice, yet which was distinctly audible to the deaf man's ears, two +words, the effect of which was to make the other start up in his seat, +and stare about him in amazement and alarm. + +The boy met his glance with great calmness and gentleness, and held out +his hand as if to grasp Bressant's. + +"Was it you?" exclaimed the latter, bewildered. "How did you know that +name, and who are you?" As he spoke, he mechanically took the extended +hand in his own. + +"Why, don't you know me?" answered the boy, smiling, and, at the same +time, drawing him, by a slight but decided traction, to sit down by him. +"Me--your best friend?" + +Something in the voice, something in the manner, and in the expression +of the eyes, but, most of all, the smile, seemed strangely familiar to +Bressant. The touch of the hand, too, he thought be recognized--it +soothed and yet controlled him. Still, he was unable to recall exactly +who the boy was, or where he had seen him before. + +"I've had so much to think of lately," murmured he, partly to himself, +partly by way of excusing his forgetfulness, passing his hand over his +forehead. + +"Yes, indeed!" returned the latter, in a tone of tender sympathy, that +vibrated gratefully along Bressant's nerves. "But we know each other, +and we are friends--that is enough." + +"How strange that I should meet you here, and at such a time!" said +Bressant, musingly. And he wondered at himself for feeling glad, instead +of sorry, that the encounter should have taken place. But the boy looked +up in surprise. + +"Strange? No! I'm sure it's the most natural thing in the world. How +could it have happened otherwise? Should I have been your friend if I +had failed you now?" + +"But do you know every thing?" Bressant demanded--less, however, because +he doubted that it should be so than as wishing to receive full +assurance thereof. "Do you know all that has happened during these last +six months, and yet are willing to be with me and speak to me?" + +"It has been a terrible time, to be sure," said the boy, sadly; "you +should have kept your promise and come to me at your first trouble. It +might have saved you from a great deal. And yet I can see how, in the +end, it may all be for the best." + +Bressant shook his head dejectedly. "I've lost what I never can regain!" +said he, "and there are three stains--falsehood, dishonor, and +treachery--that never can be washed out." + +"Don't say that!" exclaimed the boy, earnestly and hopefully. "God +teaches us, you know, not to be in despair, because without hope--hope +of becoming better--we can't be really repentant." + +"I'm not repentant, certainly--I have no hope," rejoined Bressant. But, +even as he spoke the words, he was conscious of that within him which +contradicted them. Either the influence of the boy's gentle and trustful +spirit, or a new opening of his own inward eyes, had borne in upon him a +vision of hitherto unconsidered possibilities. + +The boy seemed to read his thoughts. "You do not believe all you say," +observed he. "Remember, it was because you repented of your dishonest +purposes toward Abbie, and felt that you had wronged your better self +with Cornelia, that you first resolved to give up Sophie, as being no +longer worthy of her, and that proved that your love for her at least +was noble and unselfish." + +"But afterward--afterward I became worse than ever!" exclaimed Bressant, +who would not dare to entertain a hope until the full depth of his sin +had been brought forward for the pure and clear-sighted eyes of his +companion to look upon and judge. "When I found out my shameful +secret--when I learned what a thing I was, even with no sin of my own to +drag me down--I didn't care what crime I committed! A kind of evil +intelligence seemed to come to me. I saw that Cornelia loved me, and +that I had her in my power, so I went back to get her, to take her with +me to Europe. There was no repentance in that!" + +"It would have been a terrible sin!" said the boy, with a slight +shudder. "But God prevented you from committing it." + +"But I'm a thief still, and a coward, for I sneaked away in the night, +fearing to meet Sophie's eyes, and afraid to tell the professor what I +was and what I had done. I left all the burden of my sins to be borne by +women and an infirm old man, and I am going, with a stolen fortune, to +forget I ever had a heart or a soul." + +"Are you going, and do you think you can forget?" asked the boy, with a +smile. + +"Don't you give me up yet?" returned Bressant, trembling. "What is left +for me?" + +"Why, every thing is left for you!" exclaimed the boy, his smile +brightening in his eyes. "You seem to forget that you haven't gone off +with any stolen money yet! You must begin at the next station, and +devote your whole life--no less will answer--to redeeming yourself. Only +be sure not to delay, and not to hesitate." + +Bressant looked at his companion, and thought there was something divine +and unearthly almost in his manner, and especially in the light that +came from his gray eyes. + +"As for the stolen money," the boy continued, "all you have to do about +that is, to let it alone; it is safe, and will be cared for. But you +must go straight to the Parsonage. Your marriage-day is Sunday; be sure +you are there by noon. It may be you will not find Sophie there; but she +will leave a gift for you, at any rate, and you must be in time to claim +it." + +"But how can I ask Sophie's forgiveness, and the professor, and +Cornelia?" + +"Trust wholly in Sophie," returned the other, with an accent of loving +reproof, "never doubt her love and forgiveness. You must make your peace +with the professor as best you can; but perhaps he has found that to +forgive in himself which will enable him to be more charitable to you. +As for Cornelia, she and you must recompense each other for the evil you +have mutually wrought upon each other." + +"How recompense each other?" questioned Bressant, in surprise; "it was +not a high nor a true love that we felt for each other; it was a love of +the passions and senses." + +"Therefore let it be the work of your lives--a work of penitence and +punishment--to elevate and refine your love, which has been degraded, +until it become worthy of the name of love in its highest sense. You +have lowered each other, and now each must help to raise the other up. +The work can be delegated to no one else." + +"But Sophie," murmured Bressant, pressing his hand over his eyes. + +"Sophie is lost to you," responded his companion, with a tremulous sigh. +"Perhaps if you had kept yourself pure and true through all temptations, +she might have been yours. But you failed, and every failure must bring +its loss. The air of such a love as that is too fine for you to breathe +now; you could not be happy nor at ease; but do not grieve for her--only +mourn for your own deterioration, and strive faithfully, and with +constant effort, to make it good. Sophie--she will be happier, and +better cared for, than, as your wife, she could ever have been." + +"But I shall go back to poverty and disgrace, and perhaps to hatred!" + +"The evil you have done will be a clog upon you; but its very weight +will assure you that your face is turned toward heaven. Life will never +be to you what you dreamed of making it six months ago. You will find it +hard and practical, weary and monotonous; but once in a while, perhaps, +you will catch a breath of air from heaven itself, and will be +refreshed, or a ray of its light will glimmer on your path, and show you +where to tread. The end may be a long way off, but you cannot say you +have no chance of reaching it." + +"Oh, if I only might!" sighed he; "but I've been nothing but a curse, so +far, to every one I've known!" + +"Not so, either," returned his companion, with a smile so celestial that +Bressant knew at last it could be no other than the spirit of Sophie +herself that had been speaking to him. "You have shaken Professor +Valeyon's confidence in his wisdom and judgment, and the value of his +experience; you have made him realize that the more God has to do with +education the better; you have broken down Cornelia's self-complacency, +and shown her that a beautiful body cannot be safe or happy without a +soul to take care of it. Abbie has learned from you that love, and +generosity, and self-sacrifice, may all be worthless if they be founded +only upon individual grounds, to the exclusion of humanity; and Sophie +has been taught, by the love she has felt for you, to be humble and +charitable, and to see how easily self-interest and pride may be made to +look like zeal for others, and benevolence." + +And then Bressant seemed to be conscious that Sophie was bidding him +farewell, but he could not see her nor touch her; he was shaken with +grief, and yet was filled with a strange kind of happiness, and a +feeling of resolute power. Gradually the influence of her presence faded +away, and he seemed alone. + +Some one shook him by the shoulder. He looked up and saw the conductor; +in the background a lady and gentleman waiting to sit down. The car was +full of people. + +"Come, sir," said the conductor, "you're a pretty big man, but you +didn't pay for more than one seat, I reckon. You've been sleeping-here +for more than a hundred miles; if you want to sleep any more I expect +you'd better get out and go to an hotel." + +Bressant removed his feet from the extra seat, and, the conductor having +reversed it, the lady and gentleman took their places. As for the boy +with the green bag and the blue-spotted handkerchief, he was nowhere to +be seen; he must have left the train at a previous station. + +The train had stopped, and Bressant, glancing out of the window, saw +that they were at some large railway-junction. + +"How far are we from New York?" he asked of the conductor, with his hand +to his ear to catch the reply. + +"Be there in two hours," shouted back that gentleman, in reply. + +"When does the next train go through here in the opposite direction?" + +"We're just awaiting for one to come along and give us the track--and +there she is now," returned the conductor, as he took his departure. + +The whistle screamed malevolently, and, with a jerk and a rattle, the +car began to move off. Bressant rose suddenly from his seat, walked +quickly along the aisle to the door, passed through to the platform, +grasped the iron balustrade with one hand, and swung himself lightly to +the ground. The whistle screamed again like a disappointed fiend. + +"Guess that young man was up late last night," remarked the conductor to +the brakeman; "a powerful sound sleep he was in, anyhow." + +"Off on a spree to New York, most like," responded the brakeman, +tightening his dirty-brown tippet around his neck, "and thought better +of it at the last minute." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR. + + +Her fruitless call for Bressant seemed quite to exhaust Sophie. For a +long time afterward she hardly opened her mouth, except to swallow some +hot black coffee. The professor sat, for the most part, with his finger +on her pulse, his eyes looking more hollow and his forehead more deeply +lined than ever before, but with no other signs of anxiety or suffering. +Cornelia came in and out--a restless spirit. She awaited Sophie's +recovery with no less of dread than of hope. Her life hung, as it were, +upon her sister's. The moment in which Sophie recovered her faculties +enough to think and speak would be the last that Cornelia could maintain +her mask of honor and respectability, for Cornelia knew that Sophie was +in possession of her secret; she had been up in her room, and the open +window had told the story. + +It was a time of awful suspense. Cornelia wished there had been somebody +there to talk with; even Bill Reynolds would have been welcome now. He, +however, had departed long ago, having bethought himself that his horse +was catching its death o' cold, standing out there with no rug on. She +was entirely alone; she hardly dared to think, for fear something guilty +should be generated in her mind; and, though every moment was pain, +without stop or mitigation, every moment was inestimably precious, too; +it was so much between her and revelation. She almost counted the +seconds as they passed, yet rated them for dragging on so wearily. +Every tick of the little ormolu clock marked away a large part of her +life, and yet was wearisome to so much of it as remained. Sometimes she +debated whether she could not anticipate the end by speaking out at +once, of her own free-will; but no, short as her time was, she could not +afford to lose the smallest fraction of it--no, she could not. + +Bethinking herself that her father would be lost to her after the +revelation had taken place, Cornelia felt a consuming desire to enjoy +his love to the fullest possible extent during the interval. She wanted +him to call her his dear daughter--to hold her hand--to pat her +check--to kiss her forehead with his rough, bristly lips--to tell her, +in his gruff, kind voice, that she was a solace and a resource to him. +The thousand various little ways in which he had testified his +deep-lying affection--she had not noticed them or thought much of them, +so long as she felt secure of always commanding them--with what +different eyes she looked back upon them now. Oh! if they might all be +lavished upon her during these last few remaining hours or minutes. +Should she not go and sit down at his knee, and ask him to pet her and +caress her? + +No; she would not steal the love for which her soul thirsted, even +though he whom she robbed should not feel the loss. She had stripped him +of much that would doubtless seem to him of far more worth and +importance; but, when it came to taking, under false pretenses, a thing +so sacred as her father's love, Cornelia drew back, and, spite of her +great need, had the grace to make the sacrifice. Let it not be +underrated: a woman who sees honor, reputation, and happiness slipping +away from her, will struggle hardest of all for the little remaining +scrap of love, and only feel wholly forlorn after that, too, has +vanished away. + +At length, about daybreak or a little after, Sophie spoke, low, but very +distinctly: + +"I'm going to sleep; don't wake me or disturb me;" and almost +immediately sank into a profound slumber--so very profound, indeed, that +it rather bore likeness to a trance. Yet, her pulse still beat +regularly, though faintly, and at long intervals, and her breath went +and came, though with a motion almost imperceptible to the eye. + +"Is it a good sign? Will she get well now?" asked Cornelia, as she and +her father stood looking down at her. + +"She'll never get well, my dear," said Professor Valeyon, very quietly. +"Her mind and body both have had too great a shock--far too great. More +has happened than we know of yet, I suspect. But we shall hear, we shall +hear. Yes, sleep is good for her: it'll make her comfortable. Her nerves +will be the quieter." + +"O papa! papa! is our little Sophie going to die?" faltered Cornelia; +and then she broke down completely. She had not fully grasped the idea +until that moment; but the very tone in which her father spoke had the +declaration of death in it. It was not his usual deep, gruff, forcible +voice, shutting off abruptly at the end of his sentences, and beginning +them as sharply. It had lost body and color, was thin, subdued, and +monotonous. Professor Valeyon had changed from a lusty winter into a +broken, infirm, and marrowless thaw. + +He stood and watched her weep for a long while, bending his eyes upon +her from beneath their heavy, impending brows. Heavy and impending they +were still, but the vitality--the sort of warm-hearted fierceness--of +his look was gone--gone! A young and bitter grief, like Cornelia's, +coming at a time of life when the feelings are so tender and their +manifestation of pain so poignant--is terrible enough to see, God knows! +but the dry-eyed anguish of the old, of those who no longer possess the +latent, indefinite, all-powerful encouragement of the future to support +them--who can breathe only the lifeless, cheerless air of the +past--grief with them does not convulse: it saps, and chills, and +crumbles away, without noise or any kind of demonstration. The sight +does not terrify or harrow us, but it makes us sick at heart and tinges +our thoughts with a gloomy stain, which rather sinks out of sight than +is worn away. + +"Will you stay and watch with her, my dear?" said the old man, at last. +"She'll sleep some hours, I think. I'll take a little sleep myself. Call +me when she wakes." + +So Cornelia was left alone to watch her sleeping and dying sister. All +the morning she sat by the bed, almost as motionless as Sophie herself. +Her mind was like a surf-wave that breaks upon the shore, slips back, +regathers itself, and undulates on, to break again. Begin where she +would, she always ended on that bed, with its well-known face, set +around with soft dark hair, always in the same position upon the pillow, +which yielded beneath it in always the same creases and curves. +By-and-by, wherever she turned, still she saw that face, with the pillow +rising around it; and when she shut her eyes, there it was, growing, in +the blackness, clearer the more she tried to avert her mind. + +It seemed to Cornelia--for time enters involuntarily into our thoughts +upon all subjects--that the present order of things must have existed +for a far longer period than a single night. How could the events of a +few hours wear such deep and uneffaceable channels in human lives? But +our souls have a chronology of their own, compared with the vividness +and instantaneous workings of which, our bodies bear but a dull and +lagging part. Sorrow and joy, which act upon the soul immediately, must +labor long ere they can write themselves legibly and permanently upon +our faces. + +Cornelia fell to wondering, too--as most people under the pressure of +grief are prone to do--whether there were any sympathy or any connection +between the world and the human beings who live upon it. Her eyes +wandered hither and thither about the room, and found it almost +startling in its unaltered naturalness. There was the same view of +trees, road, and field, out of the window; and the same snow which had +fallen before the tragedy, lay there now. Even in Sophie's face there +was no adequate transformation. Indeed, being somewhat reddened and +swollen by the reaction from freezing, a stranger might have supposed +that she was tolerably stout and glowing with vitality. And Cornelia +looked at her own hands, as they lay in her lap: they were as round and +shapely as ever; and there, upon the smooth back of one, below the +forefinger, was a white scar, where she had cut herself when a little +girl. Moreover--Cornelia started as her eyes rested upon it, and the +blood rose painfully to her face--there was a dark, discolored bruise, +encircling one wrist: Bressant's last gift--an ominous betrothal ring! + +Thus several hours passed away, until, at length, Cornelia raised her +eyes suddenly, and encountered those of Sophie, fixed upon her. + +What a look was that! At all times there was more to be seen in Sophie's +eyes than in most women's; but now they were fathomless, and yet never +more clear and simple. Cornelia read in them all and more than legions +of words could have told her. There were visible the complete grasp and +appreciation of Cornelia's and Bressant's crime; the realization of her +own position between them; pity and sympathy for the sinners, too, were +there; and love, not sisterly, nor quite human, for Sophie had already +begun to put on immortality--but such a love as an angel might have +felt, knowing the temptation and the punishment. Before that look +Cornelia felt her own bitterness and anguish fade away, as a candle is +obliterated by the sun. She saw in Sophie so much higher a capacity for +feeling, so much profounder and more sublime an emotion, that she was +ashamed of her own beside it. + +There was at once a comprehensiveness and a particularity in Sophie's +gaze which, while humbling and abasing Cornelia, brought a comforting +feeling that full justice, upon all points, had been done her in +Sophie's mind. There was no lack of charity for her trials and +temptations, no vindictiveness. Cornelia felt no impulse to plead her +cause, because aware that all she could say would be anticipated in her +sister's forgiveness. Nay, she almost wished there had been some +bitterness and anger against which to contend. Perhaps it may be so with +our souls in their judgment-day; God's mercy may outstrip the poor +conjectures we have formed about it. He may see palliation for our sins, +which we ourselves had not taken into account. + +After a few moments, Sophie beckoned Cornelia to come near, and, as the +latter stood beside the bed, took her by the hand and smiled. + +"I've been all this time with Bressant," were her first words, spoken +faintly, but with a quiet and serene assurance. + +Cornelia made no answer; indeed, she could not speak. Strange and +incomprehensible as Sophie's assertion was, she did not think of +doubting but that in some way it must be true. Sophie continued: + +"Before I went to sleep, I prayed God to send my spirit to him; and we +have been together. Neelie, he is coming back!" + +"Coming back! Sophie, coming back! For what?" + +"Don't look so frightened, my darling. He will tell you why when he gets +here. That will be to-morrow at noon." + +"O Sophie! Sophie! the day and hour of your marriage!" + +Cornelia sank upon her knees, and hid her face upon the edge of the bed. +But Sophie let her hand wander over her head, with a soothing motion. + +"No, dear; that's all over, Neelie dear, you know. Not the day and hour +of my marriage any more. Neelie, I want to ask you something." + +Cornelia lifted her head from the bedside; then, divining from Sophie's +face, ere it was spoken, what her question was to be, faintness and +terror seized upon her, and she clasped her hands over her eyes. The +unexpectedness of Sophie's first awakening, and her subsequent strange +speech concerning Bressant, had driven from Cornelia's head the matter +which had monopolized her thoughts and fears before; and it now recurred +to her with an effect almost as overwhelming as if the idea had been a +new one. + +"I couldn't do it," said she, huskily; "it seemed worse than killing +myself. I believe it would have killed me to have stood before him, with +his eyes upon my face, and have told him--told him--" + +"Yes, dear, yes; it must not be you, Neelie. How is he? Does he seem +well and cheerful?" + +"I don't know--I've hardly dared to look at him, or speak to him. He's +been lying down, I believe, since you went to sleep." + +"Ask him to come to me," Sophie said, after a pause. "I will speak to +him; I'll tell him; it will be best that I should do it; and you will +trust me?" + +"O Sophie!" was all that Cornelia could say; but it expressed at least +the fullness of her heart. What must be the love and tenderness that +could undertake such a task as this! How great the trial for a nature +delicate and shrinking, like Sophie's, to bear witness before their own +father of her sister's sin against herself! But Sophie was as brave as +she was feminine and delicate. + +Cornelia's gratitude, however, was mingled still with a despairing +agony, and her life seemed to be escaping from her. If this cup might +but pass! + +"He will not be to me as you are, Sophie. He will never look at me +again." + +"Do not fear," replied Sophie, with her faint but incomparable smile. +"If I can forgive you, surely he must. Go and call him, and then stay in +your room till he comes to you." + +But Cornelia, as she left the room upon her heavy errand, shook her +head, and drew a shivering breath. She knew her father would look upon +the matter more from the world's point of view than Sophie did; and it +was a curious example of the strength of the material element in +Cornelia, that she more feared to meet her father's eye, whom she felt +would understand that aspect of her disgrace, than Sophie's, who +probably had a more acute and certainly a more exclusive perception of +her spiritual accountability. + +As she was beginning to mount the stairs, she met her father already on +his way down. He noticed the wretchedness depicted on her face, and, +supposing it to be all on Sophie's account, did what he could to comfort +her. + +"Don't despair, my child," quoth the old man, laying his hands on her +shoulders. "Nothing is so hopeless that we mayn't trust in God to better +it." + +The words seemed to apply so felicitously that Cornelia tried to think +it a good omen sent from heaven. Then he bent over and kissed her +forehead--perhaps before she was aware, perhaps not; but she took it, +praying that it might prove a blessing to her hereafter, even if it were +the last she were destined to receive. She passed on into her own room +without speaking, and sat down there to wait. + +To wait! and for what, and how long? till her father came to her? But +suppose he were not to come? She would stay there, perhaps, an +hour--that would be long enough--yes, too long; but still let it be an +hour; and then, he not coming, what should she do? Go to him? No, she +would never dare, never presume to do that. What then? steal +down-stairs, a guilty, hateful thing, softly open the door which would +never open to her again, and run away through the snow? The world would +be before her, but snow and ice would but faintly symbolize its +coldness. Was it likely that heaven itself would yield her entrance +after her father's door had closed upon her? + +But would not Sophie prevail, and turn his heart to forgiveness? Oh! +but why was it not probable, and more than probable, that the argument +would result the other way?--that her father, by a clear and stern +representation of the real heinousness of her offense, would convince +Sophie that Cornelia was entitled to nothing but condemnation? +There would be nothing to urge against the justice of such a +sentence--nothing. + +Perhaps Sophie's courage might fail her, or her strength give way, +leaving the ugly story but half told, and then her father would come to +her to learn the rest. What should she do then? How much more terrible +to be obliged to tell him then, after having made up her mind that her +sister was to take the burden off her shoulders, than it would have been +before any such resource had presented itself! How much more awful to +meet her father when aroused by suspicion and anger, and perhaps +loathing, than to begin her confession while his face was as she had +always seen it, when turned toward her--loving and tender! + +She could not sit still, at last, but rose up from her chair to walk the +room--not from the old, restless energy, which needed physical exercise +to keep it within bounds, for Cornelia was now white and faint, from +exhaustion of mind and body, but from the tumult of pervading fear and +delusive hope--the attention strained to catch some sound from below, +and the dread lest it should never come. As the suspense grew more +painful, the rapidity of her walk increased. + +She expected now, every moment, to catch herself shrieking aloud, or +performing some mad action or other. How long had she been up there +already? Was it an hour yet? It must be an hour. Oh! it was more. Was he +never coming, then?--never? O God! was there no forgiveness? Cornelia's +walk had gone on quickening until it was almost a run. She was circling +round and round the room, like a wild animal--was growing dizzy and +exhausted, but was afraid to stop: better her body should give way than +her mind--and, all the time, her ears were alert for the slightest +sound. + +She halted, wild-eyed and unsteady on her feet, her hand trembling at +her lips. A step in the passage below, ascending the stairs slowly and +heavily. Oh! did it come in mercy? She tried to draw a meaning from the +sound--then dared not trust her inference. The steps had gained the +landing now--were advancing along the entry toward her door. Did they +bear a load of sorrow only, or of hate and condemnation likewise? + +They paused at her threshold--then there was a knock, thrice +repeated--not loud, nor rapid, nor regular, nor precise--rather as one +heart might knock for admittance to another. Cornelia tried to say "Come +in," or to open the door, but could neither speak nor move. Iron bands +seemed to be clasped around all her faculties of motion. Would he go +away and leave her? + +The door opened, turning slowly and hesitatingly on its hinges, until it +disclosed her father's venerable figure. His limbs seemed weak; his +shoulders drooped; but Cornelia looked only at his face. His eyes were +deep and compassionate. He held out his arms, which shook slightly but +continually: "Come, my daughter," said he. + +She was his daughter still! She cried out, and, walking hurriedly to +him, laid herself close against him, and he hugged her closer yet--poor, +miserable, erring creature though she was. + +So the three were reunited--and not superficially, but more intimately +and indissolubly than ever before. They would not be apart, but remained +together in Bressant's room--Sophie on the bed, with an expression of +divine contentment on her face, Cornelia and the professor sitting near. + +"Papa," said Sophie, as the afternoon came on, "I want to make my will." + +Cornelia caught her breath sharply, and, turning away her face, covered +her eyes with her hand. Professor Valeyon's gray eyebrows gathered for a +moment--then he steadied himself, and said, "Well, my dear." + +It was not a very intricate matter. The various little bequests were +soon made and noted down as she requested. After all was disposed of, +there was a little pause. + +"Neelie, dear," then said Sophie, turning her eyes full upon her, "I +bequeath my love to you." + +Cornelia perceived the hidden significance in the words, and blushed so +deep and warm that the tears were dried upon her cheeks. Sophie went on, +before she could make any reply: + +"And I have something left for you, too, papa, though I know no one +needs it less than you. But you may be called on for a great deal, so I +bequeath you my charity. I haven't had it so very long myself." + +The professor bowed his head, and, the will being complete, he took off +his spectacles, and wiped them with his handkerchief. + +"I was telling Neelie this morning, papa," resumed Sophie, after a +while, "that I had been--that I'd had a dream that I was with Bressant; +and I feel sure--though I suppose you'll think it nothing but a sick +fancy of mine--that he will be here to-morrow noon." + +The professor looked at Sophie, startled and anxious; but her appearance +was so composed, straight-forward, and full of faith, he could not think +her wandering. + +"Do you know where he has been, my dear? or where he is now?" asked he, +gently. + +"I cannot tell that. I knew and understood a great deal in my dream that +I cannot remember now," she answered. "I only know that he will be here +to-morrow, and, papa, and you, Neelie, whether you believe as I do or +not, I want you to get ready to receive him. Let it be in this dear old +room--I lying here as I am now, and you sitting so beside me. We'll wait +for him to-morrow morning until twelve o'clock. If I should die before +then, let my body stay here until noon, for I want him to see my face +when he comes, so that he'll always remember how happy I looked. But if, +after that little clock on the mantel-piece strikes twelve, still he +isn't here, then you may do with me as you will. I shall not know nor +mind." + +After this little speech, Sophie became very silent, being, in truth, +too weak and worn out to speak or move, save at long, and ever longer, +intervals. All that night, Professor Valeyon carried an aching and +mistrustful heart; but Cornelia had a red spot in either cheek, never +fading nor shifting. Sophie appeared to wander several times, murmuring +something about darkness, and snow, and deadly weariness. A snow-storm +had set in toward evening, and lasted until daybreak, a circumstance +which seemed to cause Sophie considerable anxiety. + +By ten o'clock all the preparations were made according to Sophie's +wish, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Cornelia sat brooding +with folded arms, and the feverish spots on her cheeks. Occasionally she +restlessly varied her position, seldom allowing her eyes to stray around +the room, however, save that once in a while they sought Sophie's +colorless, ethereal face, as a thirsty soul the water. The professor +stood much at the window, and once or twice he imagined he caught a +glimpse, somewhere down the road, of a darkly-clad woman's figure; but +she never came nearer, and he decided it must be a hallucination of his +fading eyes. + +Eleven o'clock struck from the little ormolu timepiece. A few moments +afterward Sophie stirred slightly as she lay, and the professor and +Cornelia listened breathlessly for what she would say. + +She lifted her heavy lids, and turned her eyes, a little dimmer now than +heretofore, but steady and confident, first on her father, then on her +sister. + +"Till noon--remember!" said she. + +Nothing more was heard, after that, but the hasty ticking of the little +ormolu clock, as its hands traveled steadily around the circle. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE HOUR AND THE MAN. + + +Bressant jumped on to the platform of the newly-arrived train. The cars +were pretty full; but, coming at last to a vacant seat by the side of a +clean-shaven gentleman with a straight, hard mouth, and a glossy-brown +wig, curling smoothly inward all around the edge, he dropped into it +without ceremony. + +The train left the depot and hurried away over the road which Bressant +had just traversed in the opposite direction. He sat with his arms +folded, appearing to take no notice of any thing, and his neighbor with +the wig read the latest edition of a New-York paper with stern +attention, occasionally altering the position of his stove-pipe hat on +his head. By-and-by, the conductor, a small, precise man, with a +dark-blue coat, cap to match, a neatly-trimmed sandy beard, shaved upper +lip, and an utterance as distinct and clippy as the holes his steel +punch made in the tickets, came along upon his rounds. + +Bressant put his hands into his pockets, and discovered, with some +consternation, that he had but a comparatively small amount of money +left; his newly-accepted poverty was certainly losing no time in making +itself felt. However, such as it was, he handed it to the conductor, and +inquired how near it would take him to his proposed destination. + +"Eighty-one miles, rail," responded the official, as he took and clipped +the ticket of the gentleman with the newspaper; "comes shorter by road, +seventy-four to seventy-five," and he proceeded down the aisle, snapping +up tickets on one side or the other, as a hen does grains of corn. + +Bressant covered his eyes with his hand, and amused himself by +performing a little sum in mental arithmetic. The amount of money he had +given the conductor represented a distance which it would take a certain +length of time--say four hours--to traverse. It was now four o'clock in +the afternoon, and consequently would be eight before that distance was +accomplished. From eight o'clock Saturday night, till twelve o'clock +Sunday noon, was sixteen hours, and in sixteen hours he must travel, on +foot, and through the snow, seventy-five miles of unknown roads. + +"Four and a half miles an hour, and nothing to eat since breakfast," +said Bressant to himself. He took his hand from his eyes, and passed it +down his face to his beard, which he twisted and turned unmercifully. +"It's lucky it isn't any more," remarked he, philosophically. + +In the course of half an hour or so, the straight-mouthed gentleman, +having finished the last column of his paper, folded it up into the +smallest possible compass, and handed it politely to Bressant. The +latter accepted it abstractedly, and, opening one fold, read the first +paragraph which presented itself, his interest increasing as he +proceeded. It was in the column of latest local news, and, after +bewailing, in choice language, the frightful prevalence, even among the +highest aristocracy, of opium-eating and kindred indulgences, it went on +to particularize the sad case of an esteemed lady, of great wealth and +high connections, widow of a scion of one of our oldest families, who, +having unwisely yielded herself, during many years past, to an +inordinate use of morphine, as an antidote to nervous disorder, had, on +the previous evening, in a temporary paroxysm of madness, succeeded in +taking her own life. "No other cause can be assigned for the rash act," +pursued the paragraph, "Mrs. V---- being, in all other respects than as +regarded this unfortunate weakness, blessed beyond the average. She was +at the moment, it is understood, contemplating immediate departure for a +lengthened sojourn in Europe, taking with her an only son, a young man +of fine attainments, and a recent graduate of one of our first +theological seminaries, who desired to seek, among the European +capitals, at once for the recreation and culture, which the arduous +preparation for and the enlightened prosecution of his exalted calling +rendered respectively necessary and desirable. It is not known whether +this sad casualty will cause him to relinquish his design." + +After finishing this paragraph, which discreetly suppressed any further +personality than to remark that the deceased bore one of those quaint +old Knickerbocker surnames which are in New York synonymous with _haut +ton_ and gentility, Bressant folded up the paper, and, resting his arms +upon the back of the seat in front of him, made them a pillow for his +forehead. This position he maintained so long, that his neighbor with +the wig came to the conclusion that he must be either asleep or drunk; +and, by way of arriving at some solution of the question, abstracted +from his hand the rolled-up newspaper which protruded out of it. At this +the young man roused himself, and presently turned to him of the wig, +and thanked him for his loan with an earnestness which appeared to him, +under the circumstances, rather uncalled for. He began to doubt the +prudence of sitting next to so large a man, of so singular a behavior, +and took advantage of the next vacancy that occurred to shift his +quarters, carrying the newspaper with him. + +Darkness had fallen, and the lighted interior of the crowded car had +duplicated itself, through the medium of the glass window-pane, upon the +black vacancy without, long before the train halted at the station which +marked the boundary of Bressant's riding privilege. He got out, and was +immediately smitten in the face by the cold, impalpable fingers of a +thick falling snow-storm. + +A bobbing lantern, carried by an invisible man, was all that came to +welcome him. He walked into the waiting-room, which was lighted by a +lamp with a dirty tin reflector behind it, and was furnished with a few +well-worn chairs, painted gray, and polished by use; a couple of +spittoons, and a pyramidal stove containing the ashes of the day's fire. +The plaster walls were ornamented by many-colored railway cards, and by +a fly-spotted and dusty map. A clock was fastened over the door. + +He turned to the man with the lantern (who was standing in the door-way, +looking as if he rather suspected Bressant contemplated stealing some of +the valuables of the place), and asked him whether he could tell him +the nearest road to his destination. After considerable questioning and +delay, the man finally announced his entire ignorance in the matter; and +Bressant was just about to make him a sharp rejoinder, when his eyes +happened to fall upon the map. He stepped up to it, and found it to be +of the State in which they were. + +By the aid of the lantern, and a good deal of dusting, he finally +discovered the spot in which he then stood, and managed to trace out a +doubtful line of road, between that and the place whither he was bound. +There seemed to be few cross-roads, however, and such as there were he +rapidly noted in his memory. In one place the road ran off in a kind of +loop, to pass through an outlying village, and, by making a cross-cut at +that point, he might save himself five or six miles. But since, on +calculation, he found it would be at least six o'clock in the morning +before he got to the loop in question, he decided not to risk +abandoning, in the state he would then be in, the beaten track for any +such problematical advantage. + +As he left the dirty waiting-room, and the invisible man with the +lantern, the clock over the door marked five minutes past eight. +Although it was more than twelve hours since he had eaten food, he was +not (owing to having passed so much of the day in sleep) so hungry as he +might have been. Nevertheless, appreciating what a task was before him, +he would have given any thing that he could call his own for a good meal +before starting. But he had handed over his last cent to the conductor, +and now, time pressed him. + +He was young and strong, and no one was more tireless in walking than +he; his joints were firm as iron, yet supple and springy; his muscles +tough and lean, of immense enduring power; his lungs were deep, and he +breathed easily through his nostrils; his gait was long and elastic; +but, had he been twice the man he was, the journey upon which he was now +started would have been no child's play; being what he was, it was +nothing less than a hazard of life and death. But Bressant seemed to +think the peril quite worth encountering, in consideration of the chance +of arriving by noon next day at the Parsonage-door; and, for the first +time in his life, he felt grateful to God for the mighty bones and +sinews he had given him. This was the time to use them, if they were +paralyzed forever after! + +Having gained the road, he set off with a long, swinging stride, such as +the Indians use, half-way between a walk and a run. As long as he could +keep that up, he would be making six miles an hour--a mile and a half +over the necessary rate; but he well knew he would need all his surplus +before morning broke, and was determined to make it as large as possible +before want of food weakened him. The road, except for the snow, was +favorable for speed, being nearly level and tolerably straight; but the +flakes flying into his eyes made it impossible to be sure of his +footing; and the various ruts and inequalities, common to all American +turn-pikes, and aggravated by the half-frozen snow covering, caused him +several slips and stumbles; trifling matters enough at other times, but +now, when every unnecessary breath and false step would count up +terribly, in the end, quite sufficiently serious. + +The vigorous motion, however, sent the blood singing through his body +from head to foot. He felt exhilarated and braced. The driving snow +melted pleasantly on his warm face, and ran down into his +thickly-curling beard, crusted over with frozen breath and sleet. The +cold air came long and refreshingly into his wide-open nostrils. He took +off his fur cap and threw open the breast of his pea-jacket. His +exuberant physical sensations wrought a corresponding effect upon his +previous mental gloom: he found himself looking to the future with +dawnings of a new hope and cheerfulness. At no time in his life had he +felt himself existing through so wide and full a range. He was a man now +in full breadth and height, and, as he looked back upon his previous +life, he could trace, as from a lofty vantage-ground, the plan and +bearing of his former thoughts and deeds. + +He remarked the wide discrepancies between what he had proposed and what +he had accomplished. How insignificant circumstances had effected +momentous results! He saw how, whenever failure and dishonor had +filtered in, it was where weakness, self-indulgence, or untruthfulness, +had left an opening. He saw how one wrong had been a sure and easy path +to another, until in the end he had groveled face downward in the mire. + +His mind turned on the two women between whom his path had lain: how +highly he had aimed, and how low he had fallen! How enviable would have +been his fate had he consistently kept to either! for each had been +peerless in her way. How despicable was his position having greedily +grasped at both! And now the one was dying, and the other degraded like +himself. A worthy record that! + +One was dying: yes, that he knew, and felt that upon his speed and +resolution did it depend whether in this world he might hope for the +blessing of forgiveness from her lips. The thought urged him on, +like an ever-fretting spur. He butted yet more swiftly into the +darkness and against the reeling snow-flakes, and the road lay in +steadily-lengthening stretches behind him. She was waiting for him--that +he felt--and was striving, with all her kind and loving might, to hold +herself in life until he came. God help him, then, to be there at the +appointed hour! + +And Cornelia? Of her he ventured not much to think. She was, perchance, +the key whereby, for her and for himself, this dark riddle should +hereafter be resolved. As Adam might labor for redemption only with his +sin about his neck, so they, out of the fabric woven of their disgrace, +must seek to fashion garments in which worthily to appear at heaven's +gates. + +As his mind rambled thus, he came to the outskirts of a long, wooded +tract, which--for the map, as he had seen it at the railway-station, was +clearly marked out in his memory, from the beginning to the end of his +route--he knew was upward of ten miles from his starting-point; and, as +near as he could judge (his watch, lying at the bottom of the +fountain-basin in the Parsonage-garden, had never been replaced), it +must be rather more than half-past nine o'clock. He maintained the same +long, swinging trot, as unfalteringly as ever, though, perhaps, a trifle +less springily than at first. The footing was deep and heavy, the thick +fir-trees having kept the snow from being blown off the road, as in +more exposed situations. Bressant was wet to his skin, for the +temperature had risen, and the flakes melted as fast as they fell. Most +of his glow and vigor remained, however, and he was no whit disheartened +or doubtful. But the sky bent darkly over him, and the tall trees shut +out all but a strip even of the scanty light that came thence. The moon +would not rise for hours yet. + +Another hour passed on over the toiling man. He had now begun to get +among hills, and his course was always either up or down. This was in +some degree a relief, affording change of movement to his muscles; but +it probably lost him some little time, and certainly gave plenty of +exercise to his lungs. Something of the superabundant warmth was leaving +his body. He replaced his cap and buttoned up his jacket. What would not +half a dozen biscuits have been worth to him now! + +On and on. The hills opened, and in the inclosure they made lay a small +village, with its white meeting-house and clustering dwellings. The +windows were many of them alight: the people were sitting up for the new +year. Bressant wondered whether it would dawn for any of them so +strangely as for him! As he hurried along the empty street, a sign over +one of the doors, barely discernible in the darkness, attracted his +attention. He paused close to it, and made out the words, "West India +goods and groceries;" and at once his fancy reveled in the savory +eatables stored beyond his reach. What cheese and butter, what hams, +biscuits, and apples; what salted codfish and strings of sausages, were +there! Had the store been open, he would have been tempted to rush in, +knock the salesman senseless, and make off with whatever he could carry. +Strange thoughts these for a man bound on an errand of life and death! +But hunger is no respecter of occasions, however inopportune, or of +emotions, however incongruous. Bressant passed on. He was now +twenty-five miles on his way, and as he came beneath the meeting-house +clock, it struck twelve: the new year had come! To Bressant it brought +only the knowledge that he was seven miles ahead of his time; and this +served in some measure to counteract the depression caused by his +hunger. But on--on! There were still fifty miles to go! + +The village vanished, like the old year, behind him. He was now crossing +a lofty plateau, over which swept the wind, strong and chilly. He began +to feel the cold now, and his wet clothes, once in a while, made him +shiver. His physical exhilaration had left him, and his long trot, save +where a downward slope favored him, had gradually sobered into a quick +walk. His shoes, soaked with snow-water, began to chafe his feet. But he +knew better than to stop for rest: the only safety lay in keeping +steadily on; and on he kept, his mouth set grimly, and his head a little +bent forward. + +From the top of the plateau was a gradual descent of some five miles; +and here Bressant again fell into a run, reaching the bottom, without +extraordinary exertion, in a trifle less than three-quarters of an hour. +He felt the need of his watch very keenly now; it would have been a +great assistance and encouragement to know just how much he was doing. +He could no longer afford to waste any strength, even in making +calculations; he was fully occupied in putting one foot before another. + +How dark, and cold, and blankly disheartening it was! He had now +completed fifty miles, though he knew it not; but it seemed to him as if +he had been full a hundred. His feet, rubbed raw, and stiffened by the +cold, were beginning to retard his pace alarmingly. His face and lips +were pale; a sensation of emptiness and chilled vitality pervaded his +body. It had come down to grim hard work; every step was a conscious +effort; and yet he had no time to spare. + +The storm had lightened considerably, but the young man's eyes were dull +and heavy; it was a constant struggle to keep awake. He scarcely +attended to the road, but plunged along, careless of where he trod. +Suddenly, however, and for the first time since starting, he came to a +dead halt, and, after gazing about him a moment, cried out in dismay. +And well he might, for he stood in a field, with no sign anywhere of +road or path! In his sleepy inattention, he had lost his way and +wandered he knew not whither. + +At first he was too much paralyzed by this discovery to think or act. He +threw himself face downward on the snow, and lay like a log. God was +against him! How could he go on? Ah, how sweet felt that cold bed! Let +him lie there in peace, to move no more! Surely he had done his best; +who could blame him for a failure beyond his power to avert? The +darkness would pass over him, and leave him stretched there motionless; +the first light of morning would mark the dark outlines of his prostrate +figure, and he would not turn to greet it. Daylight would succeed, the +sun would climb the sky and shine down upon him warmly; but he would be +insensible as to the darkness or the cold. Twilight would settle over +the field again, and night, following, would find him as she had left +him, prone upon his face, with outstretched arms. For he would be +dead--dead--dead--and at rest! + +But the end had not yet come. Ere he had quite sunk into insensibility, +he was conscious of a feeling within him, as if some one were +pulling--pulling at his heart, with a force benign and loving, yet +strong as death itself. He staggered to his feet, and, stumbling as he +walked, set his face against the cold and cheerless sky once more. The +pulling at his heart-strings seemed to draw him steadily in one certain +direction; he traversed acres of field and pasture-land blind and +insensible to every thing save this mysterious guide. In his weak and +exhausted state his spiritual perceptions were doubtless less incumbered +than when he was in full possession of his strength. So he was drawn +undeviatingly on and on, until, unexpectedly, he found himself in a road +again. Then he recognized that it was Sophie's spirit which had rescued +him from death and failure. He had unconsciously made the short cut +across the fields, which he had noticed and decided not to attempt when +examining the map. He had saved five miles in distance, equal to fully +an hour in time. The thought inspired him anew, and gave him further +strength. With such divine encouragement, he could falter and hesitate +no more. + +Morning began to break dully over the sullen clouds as he resumed in +earnest his weary journey. Each yard of ground passed was now a battle +gained--every breath drawn a sobbing groan. Hills and dales rose +successively before him, clothed in the dead-white snow that had become +a nightmare to his darkening sight. He reeled sometimes as he walked, +dizzy from lack of sleep; a thousand fantastic fancies flitted through +his hot brain; a deadly lethargy began once more to creep over his +senses, but he gnawed the flesh of his lips to keep back consciousness. +And still, when will grew powerless, he felt the mysterious strain upon +his heart. + +Only ten miles more! But they seemed by far the longer part of the whole +way. He was now within the range of his walks while living at the +boarding-house, and could see in his mind every slope and ascent, every +curve and angle, that lay between him and the Parsonage-door; and he +felt the weight of every hill upon his shoulders. At the risk of +falling, he stooped, snatched a handful of snow, and put it inside his +cap, so that it lay, cold and refreshing, upon his brain. Then he took a +handful in either hand, and so kept on. + +The minutes grew into hours; the hours seemed to become days; but there, +at last, the well-known village lay! How reposeful and unconcerned the +houses looked, as if there were no such thing in the world as effort, +despair, or victory! As he came near, Bressant tried to nerve himself, +to walk erect and steady, to clear and concentrate his swimming sight +and confused head. He dreaded to meet the village-people, to have them +come staring and questioning about him, whispering and laughing among +themselves, and asking one another what was the matter with the man who +was engaged to the minister's daughter on this his wedding-morning. +Just then he felt a gentle pulling at his heart! + +Presently he was in the village. There was a disjointed vision of faces, +some of which he knew, floating around him. Once in a while he caught +the sound of a voice through the humming in his ears. Were they offering +him assistance? warning him? calling to him? He knew not, nor cared. He +passed on, feebly but desperately. He saw the clock on the +church-steeple mark half-past eleven; still in time, thank God! but no +time to lose. + +How well he knew the road, over which he was now groping his staggering +and uncertain way! In how many moods he had walked it, actuated by how +many different passions and impulses! And now he was as one dead, whose +body is dragged strangely onward by some invincibly-determined will. A +great fear suddenly seized upon him that here, upon this very last mile +of all the weary ones he had trod since the previous night-fall, he was +going to sink down, and give up his life and his attempt at the same +moment. Oh, Heaven help him to the end! O Sophie, let not the tender +strain upon his heart relax! + +For nothing less than that can save him now! His eyes see no longer; his +feet stumble in ignorance; he sleeps, and dreams of events which +happened--was it long ago?--upon this road. Here he met and talked with +Cornelia, that autumn day. Back there, they paused on the brow of the +hill, one moonlight night, was that so long ago, too? Here, some time in +the past, he had found a lifeless body in the snow, clad in a bridal +dress; here, he had caught a runaway horse by the head, and-- + +He fell headlong to the ground. The shock partly awoke him. He struggled +up to his knees--was there any one assisting him?--another struggle--he +was on his feet. Right before him lay the house--the old Parsonage; +there were the gate, the path, the porch. He made a final effort--it +forced a deadly sweat from his forehead--and still there was a vague +sense of being supported and directed by some one--he could not stop to +see or question who; but, had it not been for that support, he must have +failed. The gate opened, with its old creak and rattle, before him; a +hand he saw not held it till he passed through. + +Now, at the moment when he had fallen in the road, of the three who had +all along been awaiting him within--of these three, two only were left. +But, so quietly had the third departed, the others perceived not that +she was gone. The features, which remained, wore an expression of +angelic happiness. It was as she had wished. + +At the same moment, too, through a rift in the dull sky, a little gleam +of sunshine--the first of that gray day--descended, and rested upon +Bressant. It accompanied him to the gate, and, still keeping close to +him, slipped up the path between the trees, and even followed him on to +the porch, where it brightened about him, as he put his hand to the +latch. Was it a symbol of some loving spirit, newly set free from its +mortal body, come to watch over him for evermore? + +An old woman, who stood without clutching the palings of the gate, saw +Bressant open the door and pass inward, and the sunshine entered with +him. The door was left ajar--might she not enter too? Just then, a +little ormolu clock, on the mantel-piece inside, gave a preliminary +whirr, and hastily struck the hour of noon. As if in answer to a signal, +the sun smiled broadly forth, and quite transfigured the weather-beaten +old Parsonage. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT*** + + +******* This file should be named 15596-8.txt or 15596-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15596 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Bressant</p> +<p>Author: Julian Hawthorne</p> +<p>Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15596]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + from page images generously made available by the<br /> + Digital & Multimedia Center, Michigan State University Libraries</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" style="background-color: #ccccff;"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through Making of + America Collection, University of Michigan Libraries. See + <a href="http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moagrp/"> + http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moagrp/</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>BRESSANT</h1> + +<h2>A NOVEL</h2> + +<h4>by</h4> + +<h2>JULIAN HAWTHORNE</h2> + +<h3>1873</h3> +<p> </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS" ></a>CONTENTS.</h2> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> + <a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.—HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.—SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.—SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.—A BUSINESS TRANSACTION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.—BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.—CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.—PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.—GREAT EXPECTATIONS</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.—THE DAGUERREOTYPE</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.—ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT!</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.—EVERY LITTLE COUNTS</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.—DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.—A KEEPSAKE</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.—NURSING</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.—AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.—PARTING AN ANCHOR</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.—SOPHIE'S CONFESSION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.—A FLANK MOVEMENT</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.—AN INTERMISSION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.—BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.—PUTTING ON THE ARMOR</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.—LOCKED UP</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.—ARMED NEUTRALITY</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.—A BIT OF INSPIRATION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.—ANOTHER INTERMISSION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.—BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.—FACT AND FANCY</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.—A DISAPPOINTMENT</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.—FOUND</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.—LOST</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI.—MOTHER AND SON</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII.—WHERE TWO ROADS MEET</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII.—TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR</a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV.—THE HOUR AND THE MAN</a><br /> + </p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<p> </p> + +<h3>HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF.</h3> + + +<p>One warm afternoon in June—the warmest of the season thus +far—Professor Valeyon sat, smoking a black clay pipe, upon the broad +balcony, which extended all across the back of his house, and overlooked +three acres of garden, inclosed by a solid stone-wall. All the doors in +the house were open, and most of the windows, so that any one passing in +the road might have looked up through the gabled porch and the +passage-way, which divided the house, so to speak, into two parts, and +seen the professor's brown-linen legs, and slippers down at the heel, +projecting into view beyond the framework of the balcony-door. +Indeed—for the professor was an elderly man, and, in many respects, a +creature of habit—precisely this same phenomenon could have been +observed on any fine afternoon during the summer, even to the exact +amount of brown-linen leg visible.</p> + +<p>Why the old gentleman's chair should always have been so placed as to +allow a view of so much of his anatomy and no more is a question of too +subtle and abstruse conditions to be solved here. One reason doubtless +lay in the fact that, by craning forward over his knees, he could see +down the passage-way, through the porch, and across the grass-plot which +intervened between the house and the fence, to the road, thus commanding +all approaches from that direction, while his outlook on either side, +and in front, remained as good as from any other position whatsoever. To +be sure, the result would have been more easily accomplished had the +chair been moved two feet farther forward, but that would have made the +professor too much a public spectacle, and, although by no means +backward in appearing, at the fitting time, before his fellow-men, he +enjoyed and required a certain amount of privacy.</p> + +<p>Moreover, it was not toward the road that Professor Valeyon's eyes +were most often turned. They generally wandered southward, over the +ample garden, and across the long, winding valley, to the range of +rough-backed hills, which abruptly invaded the farther horizon. It was +a sufficiently varied and vigorous prospect, and one which years had +endeared to the old gentleman, as if it were the features of a friend. +Especially was he fond of looking at a certain open space, near the +summit of a high, wooded hill, directly opposite. It was like an oasis +among a desert of trees. Had it become overgrown, or had the surrounding +timber been cut away, the professor would have taken it much to heart. A +voluntary superstition of this kind is not uncommon in elderly gentlemen +of more than ordinary intellectual power. It is a sort of half-playful +revenge they wreak upon themselves for being so wise. Probably Professor +Valeyon would have been at a loss to explain why he valued this small +green spot so much; but, in times of doubt or trouble, be seemed to +find help and relief in gazing at it.</p> + +<p>The entire range of hills was covered with a dense and tangled +timber-growth, save where the wood-cutters had cleared out a steep, +rectangular space, and dotted it with pale-yellow lumber-piles, that +looked as if nothing less than a miracle kept them from rolling over and +over down to the bottom of the valley, or where the gray, irregular face +of a precipice denied all foothold to the boldest roots. There was +nothing smooth, swelling, or graceful, in the aspect of the range. They +seemed, hills though they were, to be inspired with the souls of +mountains, which were ever seeking to burst the narrow bounds that +confined them. And, for his part, the professor liked them much better +than if they had been mountains indeed. They gave an impression of +greater energy and vitality, and were all the more comprehensible and +lovable, because not too sublime and vast.</p> + +<p>In another way, his garden afforded as much pleasure to the professor as +his hills. From having planned and, in a great measure, made it himself, +he took in it a peculiar pride and interest. He knew just the position +of every plant and shrub, tree and flower, and in what sort of condition +they were as regarded luxuriance and vigor. Sitting quietly in his +chair, his fancy could wander in and out along the winding paths, +mindful of each new opening vista or backward scene—of where the shadow +fell, and where the sunshine slept hottest; could inhale the fragrance +of the tea-rose bush, and pause beneath the branches of the elm-tree; +the material man remaining all the while motionless, with closed +eyelids, or, now and then, half opening them to verify, by a glance, +some questionable recollection. This utilization, by the mental +faculties alone, of knowledge acquired by physical experience, always +produces an agreeable sub-consciousness of power—the ability to be, at +the same time, active and indolent.</p> + +<p>In about the centre of the garden, flopped and tinkled a weak-minded +little fountain. The shrubbery partly hid it from view of the balcony, +but the small, irregular sound of its continuous fall was audible in the +quiet of the summer afternoons. Weak-minded though it was, Professor +Valeyon loved to listen to it. It suited him better than the full-toned +rush and splash of a heavier water-power; there was about it a human +uncertainty and imperfection which brought it nearer to his heart. +Moreover, weak and unambitious though it was, the fountain must have +been possessed of considerable tenacity of purpose, to say the least, +otherwise, doing so little, it would not have been persistent enough to +keep on doing it at all. It was really wonderful, on each recurring +year, to behold this poor little water-spout effecting neither more nor +less than the year before, and with no signs of any further aspirations +for the future.</p> + +<p>A flight of five or six granite steps led up from the garden to the +balcony, and, although they were quite as old as the rest of the house, +they looked nearly as fresh and crude as when they were first put down. +The balcony itself was strongly built of wood, and faced by a broad and +stout railing, darkened by sun and rain, and worn smooth by much leaning +and sitting. Overhead spread an ample roof, which kept away the blaze +of the noonday sun, but did not deny the later and ruddier beams an +entrance. On either side the door-way, the windows of the dining-room +and of the professor's study opened down nearly to the floor. Every +thing in the house seemed to have some reference to the balcony, and, +in summer, it was certainly the most important part of all.</p> + +<p>From the balcony to the front door extended, as has already been said, +a straight passage-way, into which the stairs descended, and on which +opened the doors of three rooms. It was covered with a deeply-worn strip +of oil-cloth, the pattern being quite undistinguishable in the middle, +and at the entrances of the doors and foot of the stairs, but appearing +with tolerable clearness for a distance of several inches out along the +walls. A high wainscoting ran along the sides; at the front door stood +an old-fashioned hat-tree, with no hats upon it; for the professor had +a way of wearing his hat into the house, and only taking it off when he +was seated at his study-table.</p> + +<p>The gabled porch was wide and roomy, but had seen its best days, and was +rather out of repair. The board flooring creaked as you stepped upon it, +and the seams of the roof admitted small rills of water when it rained +hard, which, falling on the old brown mat, hastened its decay not a +little. A large, arched window opened on either side, so that one +standing in the porch could be seen from the upper and lower front +windows of the house. The outer woodwork and roof of the porch were +covered by a woodbine, trimmed, however, so as to leave the openings +clear. A few rickety steps, at the sides and between the cracks of +which sprouted tall blades of grass, led down to the path which +terminated in the gate. This path was distinguished by an incongruous +pavement of white limestone slabs, which were always kept carefully +clean. The gate was a rattle-boned affair, hanging feebly between two +grandfatherly old posts, which hypocritically tried to maintain an air +of solidity, though perfectly aware that they were wellnigh rotted away +at the base. The action of this gate was assisted—or more correctly +encumbered—by the contrivance of a sliding ball and chain, creating a +most dismal clatter and flap as often as it was opened. The white-washed +picket fence, scaled and patched by the weather, kept the posts in +excellent countenance; and inclosed a moderate grass-plot, adorned with +a couple of rather barren black cherry-trees, and as many firs, with +low-spread branches.</p> + +<p>Above the house and the road rose a rugged eminence, sparely clothed +with patches of grass, brambles, and huckleberry-bushes, the gray knots +of rock pushing up here and there between. On the summit appeared +against the sky the outskirts of a sturdy forest, paradise of nuts and +squirrels. The rough road ran between rude stone-fences and straggling +apple-trees to the village, lying some two miles to the southeast. About +two hundred yards beyond the Parsonage—so Professor Valeyon's house was +called, he, in times past, having officiated as pastor of the +village—it made a sharp turn to the left around a spur of the hill, +bringing into view the tall white steeple of the village meeting-house, +relieved against the mountainous background beyond.</p> + +<p>They dined in the Parsonage at two o'clock. At about three the professor +was wont to cross the entry to his study, take his pipe from its place +on the high wooden mantel-piece, fill it from the brown earthen-ware +tobacco-box on the table, and stepping through the window on to the +balcony, takes his place in his chair. Here he would sit sometimes till +sundown, composed in body and mind; dreaming, perhaps, over the rough +pathway of his earlier life, and facilitating the process by exhaling +long wreaths of thinnest smoke-layers from his mouth, and ever and anon +crossing and recrossing his legs.</p> + +<p>On the present afternoon it was really very hot. Professor Valeyon, +occupying his usual position, had nearly finished his second pipe. He +had thrown off the light linen duster he usually wore, and sat with his +waistcoat open, displaying a somewhat rumpled, but very clean white +shirt-bosom; and his sturdy old neck was swathed in the white necktie +which was the only visible relic of his ministerial career. He had +covered his bald head with a handkerchief, for the double purpose of +keeping away the flies, and creating a cooling current of air. One of +his down-trodden slippers had dropped off, and lay sole-upward on the +floor. There was no symptom of a breeze in the still, warm valley, nor +even on the jagged ridges of the opposing hills. The professor, with all +his appliances for coolness and comfort, felt the need of one strongly.</p> + +<p>Mellowed by the distance, the long shriek of the engine, on its way from +New York, streamed upon his ears and set him thinking. A good many years +since he had been to New York!—nine, positively nine—not since the +year after his wife's death. It hardly seemed so long, looking back upon +it. He wondered whether time had passed as silently and swiftly to his +daughters as to him. At all events, they had grown in the interval from +little girls into young ladies—Cornelia nineteen, and Sophie not more +than a year younger. "Bless me!" murmured the professor aloud, taking +the pipe from his mouth, and bringing his heavy eyebrows together in a +thoughtful frown.</p> + +<p>He would scarcely have believed, in his younger years, that he would +have remained anywhere so long, without even a thought of changing the +scene. But then, his society days were over long ago, and he had seen +all he ever intended to see of the world. Here he had his house, and his +daily newspaper, and his books, and his garden, and the love and respect +of his daughters and fellow-townspeople. Was not that enough—was it not +all he could desire? But here, insensibly, the professor's eyes rested +upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill opposite.</p> + +<p>Very few people, be they never so old, or their circumstances never so +good, would find it impossible to mention something which they believe +they would be the happier for possessing. Perhaps Professor Valeyon was +not one of the exceptions, and was haunted by the idea that, were some +certain event to come to pass, life would be more pleasant and gracious +to him than it was now. Doubtless, however, an ideal aspiration of some +kind, even though it be never realized, is itself a kind of happiness, +without which we might feel at a loss. If the professor's solitary wish +had been fulfilled, and there had been no longer cause for him to say, +"If I had but this, I should be satisfied," might it not still happen +that in some unguarded, preoccupied moment he should start and blush to +find his lips senselessly forming themselves into the utterance of the +old formula? Would it not be a sad humiliation to acknowledge that the +treasure he had all his life craved, did not so truly fill and occupy +his heart as the mere act of yearning after it had done?</p> + +<p>In indulging in these speculations, however, we are pretending to a +deeper knowledge of Professor Valeyon's private affairs than is at +present authorizable. After a while he withdrew his eyes from the +hill-tops, sighed, as those do whose thoughts have been profoundly +absorbed, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. He began to debate +within himself—for the mind, unless strictly watched, is apt to waver +between light thoughts and grave—whether or no it was worth while to +make a second journey into the study after more tobacco. Perhaps +Cornelia was within call, and would thus afford a means of cutting the +Gordian knot at once. No! he remembered now that she had walked over to +the village for the afternoon mail, and would not be back for some time +yet. And Sophie—poor child! she would not leave her room for two weeks +to come, at least.</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether they ever want to see any thing of the outside world?" +said the old gentleman to himself, elevating his chin, and scratching +his short, white beard. "Reasonable to suppose they could appreciate +something better than the society hereabouts! A picnic once in a +while—sleigh-ride in winter—sewing-bees—dance at—at Abbie's; and all +in the company of a set of country bumpkins, like Bill Reynolds, and +awkward farmers' daughters!</p> + +<p>"It won't do—must be attended to! The good education I was at such +pains to give them—it'll only make them miserable if they're to wear +their lives out here. I'm getting old and selfish—that's the truth of +the matter. I want to sit here, and have my girls take care of me! +Pshaw!</p> + +<p>"Sophie, now—well, perhaps she don't need it so much, yet; she's +younger than her sister, and has a good deal more internal resource: +besides, she's too delicate at present. But Neelie—Neelie ought to go +at once—this very summer. She needs an enormous deal of action and +excitement, bodily and mental both, to keep her in wholesome condition. +Has that same restless, feverish devil in her that I used to have; never +do to let it feed upon itself! must get her absorbed in outside things!</p> + +<p>"But what am I to do?" resumed the professor, sitting up in his chair, +and shaking out his shirt-sleeves—for the heat of his meditations had +brought on a perspiration; "what can I do—eh? Sophie not in condition +to travel—can't leave her to take Cornelia—no one else to take +her—and she can't go alone, that's certain! Humph!"</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon paused in his soliloquy, like a man who has turned +into a closed court under the impression that it is a thoroughfare, and +stared down with upwrinkled forehead at the sole of the kicked-off +slipper, indulging the while in a mental calculation of how many days it +would take for the hole near the toe to work down to the hole under the +instep, and thus render problematical the possibility of keeping the +shoe on at all. It might take three weeks, or, say at the utmost, a +month; one month from the present time. It was at the present time about +the 15th of June, the 14th or the 15th, say the 15th! Well, then, on the +15th of July the slipper would be worn out; in all human probability the +weather would be even hotter then than it was now; and yet, in the face +of that heat he would be obliged to go over to the village, get Jonas +Hastings to fit him with a new pair, and then go through the long agony +of breaking them in! At the thought, great drops formed on the old +gentleman's nose, and ran suddenly down into his white mustache.</p> + +<p>But this digression of thought was but superficial, and the sense that +something serious underlaid it remained always latent. The professor +leaned back in his chair, and sighed again heavily. It was true that he +was growing old, and now that he contemplated action, he felt that in +the last nine years the inertia of age had gained upon him. Besides, he +greatly loved his daughters, and though it is easy to say that the +greatest love is the greatest unselfishness, yet do we find a weakness +in our hearts which we cannot believe wholly wrong, strongly prompting +us to yearn and cling—even unwisely—to those who have our best +affection. "And what seems wise to-day may be proved folly to-morrow," +is our argument, "so let us cling to the good we have."</p> + +<p>And Professor Valeyon well knew that what time his daughters departed to +visit the outer world was likely to be the beginning of a longer journey +than to Boston or New York. They were attractive, and, it was to be +supposed, liable to be attracted; he would not be so weak as to imagine +that their love for their father could long remain supreme. But this old +man, who had kept abreast of the learning of the world, and was scarred +with many a bruise and stab received during his life's journey; who had +filled a pulpit, too, and preached Christian humility to his fellow +townspeople, had yet so much human heat and pride glowing like embers in +his old heart as to feel strong within him a bitter jealousy and sense +of wrong toward whatever young upstarts should intrude themselves, and +venture to brag of a love for his flesh and blood which might claim +precedence over his own. Doubtless the feeling was unworthy of him, and +he would, when the time came, play his part generously and well; but, so +long as the matter was purely imaginary, we may allow him some natural +ebullition of feeling.</p> + +<p>So powerful, indeed, was the effect produced upon Professor Valeyon by +the succession and conflict of gloomy and painful emotions, that he laid +down his black clay-pipe upon the broad arm of the easy-chair, and began +to search in all directions for his handkerchief: indulging himself +meanwhile with the base reflection that as there was no present +probability of depriving himself of his daughters, that ceremony must, +for a time at least, be postponed. While yet the handkerchief-hunt was +in full cry, the professor's ears caught the rattle and flap of the +opening gate, and following it the quick, vigorous tap of small +boot-heels upon the marble flagstones. Next came a light, rustling +spring up the creaking porch-steps, and ere the old gentleman could +get his head far enough over his knees to see down the entry, a +fresh-looking young woman appeared smiling in the door-way, dressed in +a tawny summer-suit, and holding up in one hand a long, slender envelop, +sealed with a conspicuous monogram, and stamped with the New York +post-mark.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER.</h3> + + +<p>Before the delivery of the letter, a very pretty little ceremony took +place. The professor had stretched forth his hand to receive it, when, +by a sudden turn of the wrist and arm, the young lady whisked it out of +his reach and behind her back, and in place of it brought down her +fresh, sweet face with its fragrant mouth to within two inches of his +own wrinkled and bristly visage. A moment after, the ceremony was +completed, the letter delivered, and the postman, stepping over her +father's fallen slipper, leaned against the balcony-railing, and waited +for further developments.</p> + +<p>The professor took his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket, placed them +carefully upon his strongly-marked nose, and scrutinized in turn the +direction, post-mark, and seal. With a sniff of surprise, he then tore +open the envelop, and became immediately absorbed in the contents of the +inclosure, indicating his progress by much pursing and biting of his +lips, wrinkling of his forehead, and drawing together of his heavy +eyebrows. Having at length reached the end of the last page, he turned +it sharply about, and went through it once more, with half-articulate +grunts of comment; and finally, folding the letter carefully up, and +replacing it in the torn envelop, he caught the spectacles off his +nose, and, with them in one hand and the paper in the other, fixed his +eyes upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill.</p> + +<p>His daughter meanwhile had taken off her brown straw-hat, and was using +it as a fan, keeping up a light tattoo with one foot upon the plank +flooring. Her face was glowing with her four-mile walk in the hot sun, +but she showed no signs of weariness. The position in which she stood +was easy and graceful, but there was nothing statuesque or imposing +about it; it was evident that at the very next instant she might shift +into another equally as happy. Her eyes wandered from one object to +another with the absence of concentration of one whose mind is not fixed +upon any thing in particular. From the letter between the professor's +finger and thumb, they traveled upward to his thoughtful countenance; +thence took a leap to the decrepit water-spout which depended weakly +from the corner of the balcony-roof, and thence again ascended to a +great, solid, white cloud, with turreted outline clear against the blue, +which was slowly sliding across the sky from the westward, and +threatened soon to cut off the afternoon sunshine.</p> + +<p>The professor restlessly altered the position of his legs, thereby +drawing his daughter's attention once more to himself. Thinking she had +waited as long as was requisite for the maintenance of her dignity as a +non-inquisitive person, she transferred herself lightly to the arm of +her father's chair, grasping his beard in her plump, slender hand, and +turned his face up toward hers.</p> + +<p>"Well, papa! aren't you going to tell what the news is? Is it nice?"</p> + +<p>"Very nice!" said papa, taking her irreverent hand into his own, and +keeping it there. "At least you will think so," he added, looking half +playful and half wistful.</p> + +<p>Cornelia brought her lips into a pout, all ready to say, "what?" but did +not say it, and gazed at her father with round, interrogating eyes.</p> + +<p>"You'd be very glad to go away and leave me, of course," continued the +professor, assuming an air of studied unconcern.</p> + +<p>"Papa!" exclaimed the young lady, with an emphatic intonation of +affection, indignation, and bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"What! not be glad to go to New York, and to all the fashionable +watering-places, and be introduced to all the best society?" queried the +old gentleman, in hypocritical astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Papa!" again exclaimed the young lady; but this time in a tone which +the tumult of delight, anticipation, and a fear lest there should be a +mistake somewhere, softened almost into a whisper. She had risen from +the arm of the chair to her feet, and stood with her hands clasped +together beneath her chin.</p> + +<p>The professor laughed a short and rather unnatural laugh. "I thought you +wouldn't be obstinate about it, when you came to think it over," said +he, dryly. He folded up his spectacles and put them back in his +waistcoat pocket with, unusual elaboration of manner. "So you would +really like to have a change, would you? Well, I trust you will not be +disappointed in your expectations of society and watering-places. At all +events, you may learn to appreciate home more!" Here the professor +laughed again, as if he considered it a joke.</p> + +<p>Cornelia was too much entranced by the new idea to have any notion of +what he was talking about; she was already hundreds of miles away, +living in stately houses, driving in magnificent carriages, sweeping in +gorgeous silks and laces through gilded and illuminated ballrooms, and +listening to courtly compliments from handsome and immaculate gentlemen. +But when, presently, her scattered faculties began to return to a more +normal state, an unquenchable curiosity to know how the miracle was to +be worked, seized upon her. She dropped on her knees beside her father's +chair, took his hand in both of hers, and looked up in his face.</p> + +<p>"But how is it to be, papa, dear? I mean, whom am I to go with? and when +am I to go?—dear me, I haven't a thing to wear! Shall I have time to +get any thing ready? Isn't Sophie invited too? How strange it all seems! +I can hardly realize it, somehow. From whom is the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Can you remember when you were about nine years old?" inquired the +professor.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I am sure," replied Cornelia, in some surprise at the +irrelevancy of the question. "Nothing particular. Oh! I know! we were in +New York!" said she, beginning to see some connection, and breaking into +a smile.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember seeing a lady there," continued the professor, talking +and looking straight at nothing, "who made a great deal of you and +Sophie, and asked you to call her Aunt Margaret?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—I believe—I do—," said Cornelia, slowly; "I think I didn't like +her much, because she was deaf or something, and talked in such a high +voice. She wasn't really our aunt, was she? Did she write the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she did, my dear, and invites you and Sophie to spend the summer +with her. You don't dislike her so much as to refuse, I suppose, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"O papa!" exclaimed his daughter, deprecatingly; for the old gentleman +had spoken rather in a tone of reproof. "I'm sure she's as kind and good +as she can be; I was only telling what I especially remembered about +her, you know. How did she come to think of us after so long?"</p> + +<p>"I used to know her quite well, long before you were born, my dear," +replied the professor, tapping with his fingers on the arm of the chair; +"and at that time I should not have been surprised at her offering me +any kindness. I <i>am</i> surprised now," he added, with a good deal of +feeling; "she's a better friend than I thought."</p> + +<p>Cornelia remained silent for several moments, because, not in the least +comprehending what sort of ground her papa was walking on, she feared +that the questions and remarks she was anxious to advance might jar with +his mood. At length, a sufficient time having elapsed to warrant, in her +opinion, the introduction of intelligible topics, she looked up and +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"How soon, papa—how soon did you say—am I to go?"</p> + +<p>"First of July, Aunt Margaret says. Will that give you time enough to +make yourself fine?"</p> + +<p>"Now, papa, you're making fun of me," exclaimed the young lady, +delighted that he should be in the humor to do so, yet speaking in that +semi-reproachful tone which ladies sometimes adopt when the other sex +makes their costume the object of remark, "I can make myself as fine as +I can be by that time, of course! But how is it about Sophie? Won't she +be able to go too?"</p> + +<p>Papa shook his head, and combed his bristly white beard with his +fingers. "Sophie has been very ill," said he; "it wouldn't be safe to +have her go anywhere this summer. We can't take too much care of her. +Typhoid pneumonia is a dangerous thing, and though she's on the way to +recovery now, she might easily relapse. And then," added the old +gentleman, in a more inward tone, "she would recover no more."</p> + +<p>Although he mumbled this sentence to himself, Cornelia caught his +meaning, more, probably, from his manner than from any thing she heard; +and being of an emotional and warmly-tender disposition, she began to +cry. She loved her sister very much; and something must also be allowed +to the fact that, having a great happiness in prospect for herself, she +could afford to expend more sympathy on those less fortunate. As for the +professor, he, for a second time that afternoon, gave evidence of +possessing disgracefully little control over himself. He began another +fruitless search after his handkerchief, and finally asked Cornelia, +with some heat, whether she knew what had become of it.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's on your head, papa!" warbled she, brightly changing a laugh +for her tears; and papa, putting up his hand in great confusion, and +finding that it was indeed so, laughed also, and this time in a +perfectly natural manner; but he blew his nose very resoundingly, for +all that.</p> + +<p>The atmosphere being serene once more, the joy of the future became +again strong in Cornelia's heart, and coupled with it, an earnest +longing to disburden herself to some one, and who but her sister should +be her confidant? So she rose from her knees, and picked up her brown +straw hat, which, in the excitement, had fallen to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Is there any thing you'd like to do, papa dear?" asked she, laying her +forefinger caressingly upon his bald head. "Because if there isn't, I, I +should like—I think I'd better go to Sophie."</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon nodded his head, being in truth desirous of taking +solitary counsel with himself. The letter contained a good deal more +than the invitation he had communicated to Cornelia, and he could not +feel at ease until he had more thoroughly analyzed and digested it. So +when his daughter had vanished through the door, with a smile and a kiss +of the hand, he mounted his spectacles again, and spread the letter open +on his knee.</p> + +<p>After reading a while in silence, he spoke; though his voice was audible +only to his own mental ears.</p> + +<p>"There was a time," said he, "when I wouldn't have believed I could ever +hear the news of that man's death, and take it so quietly! And now he +sends me his son!—as it were bequeaths him to me. Can it be as a +hostage for forgiveness, though so late? or is it merely because he knew +I could not but feel a vital interest in the boy, and would instruct and +treat him as my own? He was a shrewd judge of human nature—and yet, I +must not judge him harshly now."</p> + +<p>Here Professor Valeyon happened again to catch sight of his slipper, and +interrupted his soliloquy to extend his stockinged toe, fork it toward +himself, and having, with some trouble, got it right side uppermost, to +put it on. And then he referred once more to the letter.</p> + +<p>"I should like to know whether he was aware that Abbie was here, or that +she was alive at all! Margaret says nothing about it in her letter. If +he did, of course he must have written to her, or, if he was determined +to die as for these last twenty years and more he has lived, he would +never <i>knowingly</i> have sent the boy where she was, on any consideration. +Well, well, I can easily find out how that is, from either Abbie or the +boy. By-the-way, I wonder whether this <i>incognito</i> of his may have any +thing to do with it? Hum! Margaret says it's only so that he may not be +interrupted in his studies by acquaintances. Well, that's likely +enough—that's likely enough!"</p> + +<p>"By-the-way, where's the young man to stay? At Abbie's, of course, +if—Margaret says, at some good boarding-house. Well, Abbie's is the +only one in town. It's a singular coincidence, certainly, if it <i>is</i> a +coincidence! Perhaps I'd better go down at once and see Abbie, and have +the whole matter cleared up. I shall have time enough before supper, if +I harness Dolly now."</p> + +<p>As Professor Valeyon arrived at this conclusion, he uplifted himself, +with some slight signs of the rustiness of age, from his chair, took his +brown-linen duster from the balcony railing across which it had been +thrown, and put it on, with laborious puffings, and a slight increase of +perspiration. Then, first turning round, to make sure that he had all +his belongings with him, he entered the hall-door, and passed through +into his study.</p> + +<p>The rooms in which we live seem to imbibe something of our +characteristics, and the examination of a dwelling-place may not +infrequently throw some light upon the inner nature of its occupant. The +professor's study was of but moderate size, carpeted with a +red-and-white check straw matting, considerably frayed and defaced in +the region of the table, and faded where the light from the windows fell +upon it. The four walls were hidden, to a height of about seven feet +from the floor, with rows upon rows of books, of all sizes and varieties +of binding, no small proportion being novels, and even those not +invariably of a classical standard. The only picture was a stained +engraving of the Transfiguration, over the mantel-piece, in a faded and +fly-be-spotted gilt frame. In the centre of the room, occupying, indeed, +a pretty large share of all the available space, stood an ample +study-table, covered with green baize, darkened, for a considerable +space around the inkstand, by innumerable spatterings of ink. It +supported a confused medley of natural and unnatural accompaniments to +reading and writing. A ponderous ebony inkstand, with solid cut-glass +receptacles, one being intended for powder, though none was ever put in +it, a mighty dictionary, which, being too heavy to be considered +movable, occupied one corner of the table by itself: the earthen +tobacco-jar, with a small piece chipped from the cover; pamphlets and +books, standing or lying upon one another; heaps of rusty steel and +blunted quill pens; a quire or two of blue and white letter-paper; a +paper-knife, loose in the handle, but smooth of edge; a box of lucifer +matches, and several burnt ends; an extra pipe or two; the professor's +straw hat; a brass rack for holding letters and cards; and a great deal +of pink blotting-paper scattered about everywhere.</p> + +<p>Opposite the table stood a chair, straight-backed and severe, in which +Professor Valeyon always sat when at work. He had a theory that it was +not well to be too much at bodily ease when intellectually occupied. +Directly behind the chair, upon the shelf of a bookcase, stood a plaster +cast of Shakespeare's face, the nose of which was most unaccountably +darkened and polished. It is doubtful whether even the professor himself +could have cleared up the mystery of this deepened color in the immortal +bard's nose. But whoever, during those hours set apart by the old +gentleman for solitary labor and meditation, had happened to peep in at +the window, would, ten to one, have beheld him tilted thoughtfully back +in his chair, abstractedly tweaking, with the forefinger and thumb of +his right hand, the sacred feature in question. He had done it every +day, for many years past, and never once found himself out, and, +doubtless, the great poet was far too broad-minded ever to think of +resenting the liberty, especially as it was only in his most thoughtful +moments that the professor meddled with him.</p> + +<p>The room contained little else in the way of furniture, except a few +extra chairs, and a malacca-joint cane, with an ivory head, which stood +in a corner near the door. It produced an impression at once of +cleanliness and disorder, therein bearing a strong analogy to the +professor's own person and habits; and the disorder was of such a kind, +that, although no rule or system in the arrangement of any thing was +perceptible, Professor Valeyon would have been at once and almost +instinctively aware of any alteration that might have been made, however +slight.</p> + +<p>On entering the study, the old gentleman first shuffled up to the +fireplace, flapping the heels of his slippers behind him as he went, and +deposited his pipe on the mantel-piece. Next, he put on his straw hat, +and, turning to the engraving of the Transfiguration, which had served +him as a looking-glass almost ever since it had hung there, he put +himself to rights, with his usual fierce scowlings, liftings of the +chin, and jerkings at collar and stock. When every thing seemed in +proper trim, he took his ivory-headed cane from its place in the corner, +and made his way along the entry to the front door.</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" ejaculated the professor, as he emerged upon the porch, +shading his eyes from the white dazzle of the road; "how hot it is, sure +enough!" Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the sun, which had been +coquetting for the last half-hour with the majestic white cloud which +Cornelia had idly watched from the balcony, suddenly plunged his burning +face right into its cool, soft bosom, and immediately a clear, gray +shadow gently took possession of the landscape.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted the professor again, turning a sharp, wise eye to the +westward, "we shall have a thunder-shower before long. I must take the +covered wagon. But how's this? I declare I've forgotten to change my +slippers! I'm growing old—I'm growing old, that's certain!"</p> + +<p>As the old gentleman stood, shaking his head over this new symptom of +approaching senility, he happened to turn his eyes in the direction of +the village, and descried a figure approaching rapidly from the turn in +the road, which at once arrested his attention.</p> + +<p>"Who can that be?" muttered he to himself, frowning to assist his +vision. "None of the town boys, that's certain. Never saw such a figure +but once before! If any thing, this is the better man of the two. +By-the-way, what if it should be—! Humph! I believe it is, sure +enough."</p> + +<p>By this time the stranger, a very tall and broadly built young man, with +a close brown beard, and quick, comprehensive eyes, had arrived opposite +the house, and stood with one hand on the gate.</p> + +<p>"Is this the parsonage?" demanded he, speaking with great rapidity of +utterance, and turning his head half sideways as he spoke, without, +however, removing his eyes from the professor's face.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman nodded his head, "It is known by that name, sir!" said +he.</p> + +<p>With the almost impatient quickness which marked every thing he did—a +quickness which did not seem in any way allied to slovenliness or +inaccuracy, however—the young man pushed through the gate, which +protested loudly against such rough usage, and walked hastily up to the +porch-steps. He paused a moment ere ascending.</p> + +<p>"Are you Professor Valeyon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Again the professor bowed his head in assent. "And are you—?" began +he.</p> + +<p>The young man sprang up the steps, and grasping the other's +half-extended hand, gave it a brief, hard shake.</p> + +<p>"I'm Bressant," said he.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT.</h3> + + +<p>When Cornelia left her father on the balcony, she danced up-stairs, and +chasséed on tiptoe up to the door of Sophie's room. There she stopped +and knocked.</p> + +<p>Somehow or other, nobody ever went into that room without knocking. It +never entered any one's head to burst in unannounced. The door was an +unimposing-looking piece of deal, grained by some village artist into +the portraiture of an as yet undiscovered kind of wood, and considerably +impaired in various ways by time. It could not have been the door, +therefore. Nor was the bolt ever drawn, save at certain hours of the +morning and night. Sophie was not an ogre, either. Cornelia, who was +very trying at times, would have found it hard to recall an occasion +when Sophie had answered or addressed her sharply or crossly. If she +exerted any influence, or wielded any power, it was not of the kind +which attends a violent or morose temper. But no vixen or shrew, how +terrible soever she may be, can hope at all times or from all people to +meet with respect or consideration; while to Sophie Valeyon the world +always put on its best face and manner, secretly wondering at itself the +while for being so well-behaved.</p> + +<p>As to the affair of knocking, Sophie herself had never said a word about +it, one way or another. She always took it as a matter of course; +indeed, had she been loquacious on the subject, or insisted upon the +observance, Cornelia for one would have been very likely to laugh to +scorn and disregard her, therein acting upon a principle of her own, +which prompted her to measure her strength against any thing which +seemed to challenge her, and never to give up if she could help it. But +she had never had a trial of strength with Sophie, and possibly was +quite contented that it should be so. She would have shrunk from +thwarting or crossing her sister as she would from committing a secret +sin: there might be no material or visible ill-consequence, but the +stings of conscience would be all the sharper.</p> + +<p>So Cornelia knocked and entered, and the quiet, cool room in which her +sister lay seemed to glow and become enlivened by the joyous reflection +of her presence. Yet the effect of the room upon Cornelia was at least +as marked. She hushed herself, as it were, and tried, half +unconsciously, to adapt herself to the tone of her surroundings; for, +although her physical nature was sound and healthy, almost to +boisterousness, her perceptions remained very keen and delicate, and +occasionally rallied her upon the redundancy of her animal well-being +with something like reproof.</p> + +<p>It was singular, with how few and how simple means was created the +impression of purity and repose that this chamber produced! It brought +to mind the pearly interior of a shell, and a fanciful person might have +listened for the sea-music whispering through. The walls were papered +with pale gray, relieved by a light pink tracery, and the white-muslin +curtains were set off by a pink lining. A bunch of wild-flowers and +grasses, which Cornelia had gathered that morning, and Sophie had +arranged, stood on the mantel-piece. There were four or five +pictures—one, a bass-relief of Endymion, deep asleep, yet conscious in +his dream that the moon is peeping shyly over his polished shoulder, had +been copied from a famous original by Sophie herself. She had painted it +in a pale-brown mezzotint, which was like nothing in nature, but seemed +suitable of all others for the embodiment of the classic fable. This +picture hung over the mantel-piece. Opposite Sophie's bed was an +illumination of the Lord's Prayer, with clear gold lettering, and +capitals and border of celestial colors. The dressing-table was covered +with a white cloth, on which reposed a comb and brush and a pink +pin-cushion with a muslin cover, and over which hung a crayon of the +cherub of the Sistine Madonna, who leans his chin upon his hand.</p> + +<p>Within reach of Sophie's hand as she lay, were suspended a couple of +hanging shelves, which held her books. There were not a great many of +them, but they all bore signs of having been well read, and there was at +the same time a certain neatness and spotlessness in their appearance +which no merely new books could ever possess, but which was communicated +solely by Sophie's pure finger-touches. On the opposite side of the bed +stood a small table, on which ticked a watch; and beside the watch was a +work-basket, full of those multifarious little articles that only a +woman knows how to get together.</p> + +<p>Looking around the room, and noting the delicate nicety and precision of +its condition and arrangement, one would have supposed that Sophie's own +hands must have been very lately at work upon it. But it was many weeks +since she had even sat in the easy-chair that stood in the +rosy-curtained window; and, although now far advanced in convalescence, +she had taken no part in the care of her room since her illness. Why it +had still continued to retain its immaculateness was one of many similar +mysteries which must always surround a character like Sophie's. Every +thing she accomplished seemed not so much to be done, as to take place, +in accordance with her idea or resolve; and there were always, in her +manifestations of whatever kind, more spiritual than material elements.</p> + +<p>When Cornelia entered, Sophie laid down her sewing, and looked up-with a +smile in her eyes, which were large and gray, and the only regularly +beautiful part of her face. She had a way of confining a smile to them, +when wishing merely to express good-will or pleasure, which was peculiar +to herself, and very effective. Cornelia walked quite soberly up to the +bedside, kissed her sister, and then stood silent for several moments.</p> + +<p>Compared with her recent exhilaration, this was very extraordinary +behavior. She had rushed up-stairs intent upon pouring into Sophie's +ears the whole gorgeous tale of her hopes and anticipations for the +coming summer. Yet no sooner was she within the door than her excitement +seemed to die out, and her enthusiasm ebb away. Extraordinary as it +appeared, it was by no means a rare occurrence. Cornelia alone could +have told how common; if, indeed, she ever reflected upon the matter. +She was very quick to feel a divergence of interests between her sister +and herself, and always inferred that Sophie could not sympathize with +any thing for which she had no personal taste. In the present instance, +it had all at once occurred to her that her sister would not be likely +to care half so much about the gayeties of fashionable watering-places +and city-life as she did, and might therefore treat with indifference +what was to her an affair of the greatest moment; and a snub being one +of those things which Cornelia found it most difficult, even in the +mildest form, to endure, she had resolved, on the spur of the moment, to +approach the topic of her proposed departure with the same coolness +which she expected Sophie to manifest when she heard about it.</p> + +<p>"Have you kept at that sewing ever since I went away?" asked she, idly +examining the work which Sophie had laid down.</p> + +<p>"I believe so," replied Sophie, stroking her chin to a point between her +forefinger and thumb. "It's so pleasant to be able to sew again at all +that I should consider it no hardship to have to sew all day."</p> + +<p>Cornelia's thoughts immediately reverted to the dresses which the next +two weeks must see made.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be strong enough to do that, though, would you? I mean to +sew on dresses, and all that sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>"Dresses?" said Sophie, looking up inquiringly into her sister's face. +"Oh, you mean your dress for Abbie's Fourth-of-July party? I thought you +were going to wear your—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not that; I wasn't thinking of that," interrupted Miss Valeyon, +with a gesture as if deprecating the idea of having ever entertained +ideas so lowly. "I shall hardly be in town on the Fourth," she added, +reflectively, as if calculating her engagements.</p> + +<p>Sophie looked amazed, though it would have taken a keener observer than +Cornelia was at the moment to detect the slight contraction of the under +eyelids, and the barely perceptible droop of the corners of the mouth. +She saw that her sister had something of moment to tell her, and was, +for some reason, coquettish about bringing it out. Cornelia was often +entertaining to Sophie when she least had intention of being so; but +Sophie was far too tender of the young lady's feelings knowingly to let +her suspect it.</p> + +<p>"Not be in town?" repeated she, demurely taking up her work; "why, where +are you going, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Cornelia, with one of those little half-yawns wherewith we +cover our nervousness or suspense, "I didn't tell you, did I? Papa +received a letter from a lady in New York, the one who wanted us to call +her 'Aunt Margaret' when we were there ever so long ago—the year after +mamma died, you know—asking me to come to her house there, and go round +with her to Saratoga and all the fashionable watering-places. The +invitation was for about the first of July, so—"</p> + +<p>Cornelia, speaking with a breathless rapidity which she intended for +<i>sang froid</i>, had got thus far, when Sophie, who had dropped her work +again, and had been regarding her with a beautiful expression of +surprise, joy, and affection in her eyes, stretched forth her arms, +cooed out a tender little cry of happy congratulation and sympathy, and +hugged her sister around the neck for a few moments in a very eloquent +silence.</p> + +<p>"Why, Sophie!" murmured Cornelia, covered with an astonishment of +smiles and tears, "how sweet you are! I didn't think you'd care; I +thought you'd think it foolish in me to be glad, dear Sophie!"</p> + +<p>"My darling!" said Sophie, with another hug. She felt rebuked and +remorseful; for if, as Cornelia's words unconsciously implied, her +sympathy was unexpected, it would appear she had gained a reputation for +coldness and indifference which she was far from coveting. It often +happens, certainly, that those whom we consider intellectually beneath +us, and whom, supposing them too dull to comprehend the evolutions of +our minds, we occasionally use for our amusement, possess an instinctive +insight far keener than that of experience, enabling them to read our +very souls with an accuracy which puts our self-knowledge to the blush, +and might quite turn the tables upon us, could they themselves but +appreciate their power.</p> + +<p>"But tell me all about it," resumed Sophie; "all the particulars. And +then we'll discuss the dresses. Dear me! I long to get to work upon +them."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, Cornelia had very few particulars to tell: all she +knew was the simple fact she had already stated. But it needed only a +small spark to enkindle her imagination; she plunged at once into a +perfect flower-garden of bright thoughts and rainbow fancies; +foreshadowed her whole journey from the arrival in New York to the +latest grand ball and conquest; glowed over the horses, the houses, and +the people; speculated profoundly in possible romances and romantic +possibilities, and became so eloquent in a pretty, half-childish, +half-womanish way she had, that Sophie's eyes shone, and she told +herself that Neelie was the dearest, cunningest sister in the world.</p> + +<p>From these glorious imaginings they descended—or ascended, perhaps—to +the dresses, and then Sophie's low, steady voice mingled with Cornelia's +rich, strenuous one, like pure water with red wine. Cornelia paced the +little room backward and forward—she could never keep still when she +was talking about what interested her, and now paused by the window, now +before the mantel-piece, now leaned for a moment on the foot-board of +Sophie's bed. She was very happy; indeed, this may have been the +happiest hour of her life, past or to come. We all have our happiest +hour, probably; and not always shall we find that happiness to have been +caused by higher or less selfish considerations than those which +animated Cornelia Valeyon.</p> + +<p>During one of her visits to the window, she was arrested by the vision +of an unknown young man coining up the road. She at once became silent.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" demanded Sophie, presently.</p> + +<p>"Some man—a new one—a gentleman—awfully big!" reported Cornelia, in +detached sentences, with a look between each one.</p> + +<p>"As big as Bill Reynolds?" asked Sophie, with a twinkle in her face.</p> + +<p>"How absurd, Sophie! Bill Reynolds, indeed! He isn't up to this man's +shoulder. Besides, this is a gentleman, and—oh!" exclaimed Cornelia, +breaking off suddenly, and drawing back a step from the window.</p> + +<p>"Has the gentleman had an accident?" inquired Sophie, still twinkling.</p> + +<p>"He's stopped here—speaking to somebody—father, I believe; he's +coming in—there! do you hear?" cried Cornelia, turning round with large +eyes and her finger at her mouth, and speaking in a thrilling whisper. +The sound of the quick, irregular tread of Mr. Bressant, following the +professor into the study, was audible from below.</p> + +<p>"Who can he be?" resumed she presently, as Sophie said nothing.</p> + +<p>"If he's a gentleman, we don't need to know any more, do we?" replied +her sister, from behind her sewing.</p> + +<p>"Well, he is one," rejoined Cornelia, uncertain whether she was being +made fun of or not. "He was dressed like one; not <i>bandboxy</i>, you know, +but nicely and easily; and he stands and moves well; and then his +face—"</p> + +<p>"Is he handsome?" asked Sophie, as Cornelia paused.</p> + +<p>"Oh! he has that refined look—I can't describe it—better than +handsome," said she, giving a little wave with her hand to carry out her +meaning.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky he was so big," remarked Sophie, very innocently, "or you +might not have been able to see so much of him in such a little time."</p> + +<p>"Sophie!" said Cornelia, after a silence of some moments, speaking with +tragic deliberation, "you're making fun of me; I think you're very +unkind. I don't see what there is to laugh at in what I said; and if +there was any thing, I think <i>you</i> might not laugh."</p> + +<p>"O Neelie—dear Neelie!" exclaimed Sophie, coloring with regret and +shame; "I didn't think you'd mind it; it was only my foolishness. Don't +think I meant to be unkind to you, dear. I wish the man had never come +here, whoever he is, if he is to come between us in any way. Won't you +forgive me, darling?" and she held out her hand to Cornelia with a +wistful, beseeching look in her eyes that thawed her sister's resentment +immediately, and after a very brief struggle to preserve her dignity, +she subsided with her face upon the pillow beside her sister's.</p> + +<p>"We won't ever quarrel or any thing again, will we, Sophie?" said she, +after a while.</p> + +<p>"Never about that gentleman, at all events!" answered Sophie; and then +they both laughed and kissed each other to seal the bargain.</p> + +<p>Once, long afterward, Cornelia remembered that kiss, and the words that +had accompanied it; and pondered over the bitter significance with which +the simple act and playful agreement had become fraught.</p> + +<p>But now, the subject was soon forgotten, and they fell to talking about +the dresses once more; nor was the topic by any means exhausted when +they were interrupted by the professor's voice calling to them from +below.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>A BUSINESS TRANSACTION.</h3> + + +<p>Professor Valeyon led the way to the study, stood his cane in the +corner, and placed a chair for his guest, in silence. "Just like his +father!" said he to himself, as he repaired to the mantel-piece for his +pipe; "not a bit of his mother about him. Who'd have thought so sickly a +baby as they said he was, would have grown into such a giant?—Smoke?" +he added, aloud.</p> + +<p>"You must talk loud to me—I'm deaf," said the young man, with his hand +to his ear.</p> + +<p>"Pleasant thing in a pupil, that!" muttered the old gentleman, as he +filled his pipe and lit it. "How it reminds one of his father—that +bright questioning look, when he leans forward! One might know who he +was by that and nothing else!" He sat down in his chair, and ruminated a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Hardly expected you up here so soon after your loss," observed he, in +as kindly a tone and manner as was comportable with speaking in a very +loud key.</p> + +<p>"Loss! I've had no loss!" returned Bressant, with a look of perplexity. +"Oh! you mean my father!" he exclaimed, suddenly, throwing his head back +with a half-smile. He very seldom laughed aloud. "There was nothing to +do. The funeral was the day before yesterday. I did all the business +before then. Yesterday I packed up, and here I am!"</p> + +<p>"Death couldn't have been unexpected, I presume?" said the professor, +on whom Bressant's manner made an impression of resignation to his loss +rather too complete.</p> + +<p>"The hour of death can only be a matter of guess-work at any time," +returned the young man. "My father had been expecting to die for some +months past; but he'd been mistaken once or twice before, and I thought +he might be this time. But he happened to guess right."</p> + +<p>"Filial way of talking, that," thought Professor Valeyon, rather taken +aback. "Didn't get that from his father; he was soft spoken enough, in +all conscience! Queer now, this matter of resemblance! there's a certain +something in his style of speaking, and in the way he looks just after +he has spoken, that reminds me of Mrs. Margaret. Deaf people are all +something alike, though; and he's been with her a great deal, I suppose. +Well, well! as to the way he spoke about his father, what looked like +indifference may have been merely embarrassment, or an attempt to +disguise feeling; or perhaps it was but a deaf man's peculiarity. At all +events, it can do no harm to suppose so."</p> + +<p>"Were you with him during his last moments?" asked he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I saw him die," answered Bressant, nodding, and pulling his +close-cut brown beard.</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon smoked for a while in silence, occasionally casting +puzzled and searching glances at the young man, who took up a book from +the table—it happened to be a volume of Celestial Mechanics—and began +to read it with great apparent interest. His face was an open and +certainly not unpleasant one; very mobile, however, and vivid in its +expressions; the eyebrows straight and delicate, and the eyes bright and +powerful. The forehead was undeniably fine, prominently and capaciously +developed. Nevertheless—and this was what puzzled the professor—there +was a very evident lack of something in the face, in no way interfering +with its intellectual aspect, but giving it, at times, an unnatural and +even uncanny look. In meeting the young man's eyes, the old gentleman +was ever and anon conscious of a disposition to recoil and shudder, and, +at the same time, felt impelled, by what resembled a magnetic +attraction, to gaze the harder. Did the very fact that some universal +human characteristic was omitted from this person's nature endow him +with an exceptional and peculiar power? There was an uncertainty, in +talking and associating with him, as to what he would do or say; an +ignorance of what might be his principles and points of view; an +impossibility of supposing him governed by common laws. Such, at least, +was the professor's fancy concerning him.</p> + +<p>But again, turning his eyes to his pipe, or out of the window, was it +not fancy altogether? Beyond that he was unusually tall and broad across +the shoulders, and of a very intelligent cast of features, what was +there or was there not in this young man different from any other? He +had the muffled irregular voice, and alert yet unimpressible manner, +peculiar to deafness. But was there any thing more? The professor took +another look at him. He was reading, and certainly there were no signs +of any thing strange in his appearance, more than that, at such a time, +he should be reading at all. It was when speaking of his father that +the uncanny expression had been especially noticeable. "Suppose," said +Professor Valeyon to himself, "we try him on another subject."</p> + +<p>"You've been educated at home, I understand," began he, from beneath his +heavy eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" replied Bressant, shutting his book on his knee, and +returning the professor's look with one of exceeding keenness and +comprehensiveness. "Educated to develop faculties of body and mind, not +according to the ordinary school and college system." He drew himself +up, with an air of such marvelous intellectual and physical efficiency, +that it seemed to the professor as if each one of his five senses might +equal the whole capacity of a common man. And then it occurred to him +that he remembered, many years ago, having heard some one mention a +theory of education which aimed rather to give the man power in whatever +direction he chose to exercise it, than to store his mind with greater +or less quantities of particular forms of knowledge. The only faculty to +be left uncultivated, according to this theory, was that of human +love—this being considered destructive, or, at least, greatly +prejudicial, to progress and efficiency in any other direction. The +professor could not at the moment recall who it was had evolved this +scheme, but it became involuntarily connected in his mind with +Bressant's peculiarities.</p> + +<p>"According to the letter I received to-day, you come here to be trained +to the ministry," resumed he. "Has all your previous education had this +in view?"</p> + +<p>"The education would have been the same, understand, whatever the end +was to be," explained the young man, with a shrewd smile in his sharp +eyes. "I am as well prepared to study theology as if I had been aiming +at it all my life; but I might take up engineering or medicine as well +as that. About a year ago, I decided to become a minister."</p> + +<p>"And what led you to do that?" demanded the old gentleman, with rather a +stern frown. He did not like the idea of approaching religion in other +than a reverent and self-searching attitude.</p> + +<p>"My father first suggested it," replied Bressant, on whom the frown +produced no sort of impression. "At the time, it surprised me, +especially from him. Afterward, I concluded I could not do better. No +one has such a chance to move the world as a minister. I thought of +Christ, and Paul, and Luther, and many before and since. They were all +ministers, and who had greater power? I felt I had the ability, and I +decided that it was as a minister I could best use it."</p> + +<p>"But what are you going to use it for?" questioned the professor, +settling his spectacles on his nose, and leaning across the table in his +earnestness.</p> + +<p>"The men I have mentioned used theirs to invent, or confirm, or +overthrow, religious sects, and perhaps they couldn't have done better +in their age. Their names are as well known now as ever, and that's the +best test. But I hope I may discover a better method. I shall have the +advantage of their experience and mistakes. Perhaps I shall develop and +carry out to its conclusion the dogma of Christianity. That would be +well as a beginning."</p> + +<p>"Very well, that's certain!" assented the professor, dryly. "It's all I +shall be able to give you any assistance in, too, so we needn't discuss +what the next step will be. By-the-way, did you ever hear of doing any +thing for the glory of God, and for the love of your fellow-men?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! they're pass-words of the profession, and have their use," +returned Bressant, with another of his keen smiles. "If you want to +climb above the world, the rounds in your ladder must be made of common +woods that everybody knows the names of. The Bible is full of such, and +some of them are works of genius in themselves. After all, it is the +people who must immortalize us, and we must feed them with what they are +in the habit of eating."</p> + +<p>"What induced you to come here, sir?" asked the professor, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I never should have come of myself," answered the young man, with +entire frankness. "I never heard your name mentioned until less than a +year ago. It was the first time my father was expecting to die. He told +me you were a wise man, and learned besides; he had known you when you +were young; you would have some interest in teaching me; he would feel +more at ease to die, if he knew you were directing me. I thought it +over, as I said, and decided to come. Understand, I knew of no one +except you, and I didn't want to go to a theological school."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted the professor, who was by no means well satisfied with +the prospect, yet had reasons of his own for taking up the matter if +possible. He smoked for a while longer, and Bressant resumed his book.</p> + +<p>"By-the-way, about this <i>incognito</i> of yours," said the former at +length, laying aside his pipe, and taking off his straw hat: he had +forgotten to remove it on entering, and it had been oppressing him with +a sense of vague inconvenience ever since. "What is the meaning of it? +Do you mean to keep it strict? Is the idea you own?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I heard nothing of it till after my father was dead. It was +Mrs. Vanderplanck—she who wrote you the letter—who first spoke to me +of it, and said he had desired it. I don't know what the necessity of it +is, but it must be kept a strict secret. Should any one besides you know +who I am, I stand in danger of losing my fortune."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! lose your fortune!" exclaimed the professor, frowning so +portentously as to unseat his spectacles. "How does that happen, sir?"</p> + +<p>Bressant looked considerably amused at the old gentleman's evident +emotion; the more as he saw no occasion for it. "I never had the +curiosity to ask how," said he, pulling at his beard. "I shall run no +risks with my fortune. I'm satisfied to know there might be danger; +there's no difficulty in keeping silence about a name."</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon rose from his chair and walked to the window. A mighty +host of gray clouds, piled thickly one upon another, and torn and +tunneled by feverish wind-gusts, were hastening swiftly and silently +across the sky from the west. Beyond, where they were thickest and +angriest, a yellowish, lurid tint was reflected against them. The valley +darkened like a frowning face, and the summits of the western hills +were blotted out of sight. A lightning-flash shivered brightly through +the air, and then came the first growling, leaping, accumulating peal of +thunder. A sudden, rustling breath swept through the garden, and, +following it, in big, quick drops, and soon in an unintermittent +myriad-footed tramp, the rustling, perpendicular down-pelting of the +rain.</p> + +<p>In less than a minute, a gray, wet veil had been drawn across the +farther side of the valley, hiding it from the professor's sight. Even +the outer limits of the garden grew indistinct. The leaves of the trees +bobbed ceaselessly up and down, and glistened and dripped; the shrubs +and flowers seemed to lift themselves higher from the earth, and stretch +out their green fingers to the plenteous shower. The tinkle of the +fountain was quite obliterated, and the ordinarily smooth surface of the +basin sprang upward in thousands of tiny pyramids, as if madly welcoming +the impact of the rain-drops. Small cataracts tore in desperate haste +down the slope of the garden-paths, laying bare in their pigmy fury the +lower strata of rough gravel and pebbles. Upon the roof of the balcony +was maintained an evenly sonorous monotone of drubbing, as if +innumerable fairy carpenters were nailing on the shingles. The invalid +water-spout had a hard time of it; it was racked, shaken, and bullied, +and continually choked itself with the volubility of its fluent +utterances, which were instantly swallowed up in the bottomless depths +of the waste-barrel. A strong, cool, earthy odor rose from the garden, +and was wafted past the professor's nostrils, and into the heated house. +The moist brown flower-beds exhaled a fragrant thankfulness, and the +grass-blades looked twice as green and twice as tall as before. +Meanwhile the heavy, regular pulse of the thunder had been beating +intermittently overhead, and bounding ponderously from hill-side to +hill-side; and ever and anon the lightning had showed startlingly in +dazzling zigzags through the omnipresent shadow. But now it seemed that +there was a little less weight in the fall, and gloom in the air. The +pervading freshness of the breeze made itself more unmistakably +perceptible. The west began to lighten, and the rain and darkness +drifted to the east. As for Professor Valeyon, if his thoughts had been +in a tumult, like the elements, might they not become quiet again also?</p> + +<p>"After all," said the old gentleman to himself, "it's not the young +fellow's fault. If his father was a heartless scoundrel, it doesn't +follow that he knows it. Well, the man is dead—it can't be helped now, +that's certain. But what a cunningly-contrived plot it is! Shuts my +mouth by confiding to me the <i>incognito</i> and sending me the son to +educate; destroys the last hope of setting an old wrong right; takes +advantage, for base ends, of the deepest feelings of human hearts: not +to speak of preventing the young man himself from being party to a noble +and generous action. Did ever man carry such a load down to the grave!</p> + +<p>"Suppose Margaret—no! it isn't likely she would know any thing about +it. He wasn't the man to make confidants of women. She gave the message +to the son, not knowing what it meant, probably. Why, he wouldn't have +dared to tell her! And then inviting Cornelia—no, no! I've had some +acquaintance with Margaret, and, with all her nonsense, I believe she's +honest. Besides, what interest could she have to be otherwise? To be +sure, she didn't give me the true reason for the <i>incognito</i>; but that's +nothing; she's just the woman to tell a useless fib, and reserve the +truth for important occasions only—or what she thinks such."</p> + +<p>The professor remained a while longer at the window, abstractedly +staring at the drops which hastened after one another from the wet +eaves. Suddenly he turned around, and walked up to the table, flapping +his slipper-heels, and settling his spectacles, as he went.</p> + +<p>"Did any one ever speak to you of your mother, sir?" demanded he in the +ear of the reading Bressant. "Confound the fellow!" passed at the same +time through his mind; "does he think I'm a chair or a table?"</p> + +<p>"My mother?" repeated the young man, looking up, and appearing somewhat +surprised at the idea of his ever having possessed the article. "Oh, +yes! my father once told me she was dead. It was long ago. I'd almost +forgotten it."</p> + +<p>"Told you she was dead, hey? Humph! just what I expected!" growled the +old gentleman, who seemed, however, to become additionally wrathful at +the intelligence. After a moment's scowl straight at his would-be pupil, +he shuffled up to his chair, and sat solidly down in it. Bressant (to +whom the professor had probably appeared to the full as peculiar as he +to the professor), seeing signs of an approach to business in his action +and attitude, tossed his book on the table, leaned forward with his +elbows on his knees, and fixed his eyes directly upon the old +gentleman's glasses.</p> + +<p>"You seem to be in the habit of speaking your own mind freely, sir," +observed the latter; "and I shall do the same, on this occasion at least +I'm going to accept you as a pupil, and shall do my best for you; but +you must understand it's by no means on your own account I do it. As far +as I have seen them, I don't like your principles, your beliefs, or your +nature. You're the last man I should pick out for a minister, or for any +other responsible position. In every respect, except intelligence and an +unlimited confidence in yourself, you seem to me unfit to be trusted. In +training you for the ministry, I shall do it with the hope—not the +expectation—of instilling into you some true and useful ideas and +elevated thoughts. If I succeed, I shall have done the work of a whole +churchful of missionaries. If I fail, I shan't recommend you to be +ordained. And never forget that you will be indebted for all this to +some one you've never known, and who, I am at present happy to say, +don't know you. Whether or not you'll ever become acquainted is known to +God alone, and I'm very glad that the matter lies entirely in His hands. +Now, sir, what have you to say?"</p> + +<p>Bressant, who had been looking steadily and curiously at the professor +during the whole of this long speech, now passed his hand from his +forehead down over his face and beard—a common trick of his—smiled +meditatively, and said:</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you agree to take me. I don't care for your recommendation if +I have your instruction. Shall we begin to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>There followed a discussion relative to hours, methods, and materials, +which lasted very nearly until tea-time. Then, as there was still some +rain falling, the professor extended to his pupil an invitation to +supper, on his accepting which the old gentleman shuffled out into the +entry, and called to Cornelia to come down and make the necessary +preparations.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE.</h3> + + +<p>Supper was ready: Cornelia surveyed the table for the last time, to make +sure it was all right. It was an extension-table, but the spare leaves +had been removed, and it was reduced to a circle. A mellow western light +from that portion of the sky unswathed in clouds streamed through the +window, and did duty as a lamp. The cloth was white, and tapered down in +soft folds at the corners; a pleasant profusion of sparkling china and +silver, and of savory eatables, filled the circumference of the board, +leaving just space enough to operate in, and no more. In the centre of +the table, and perceptible both to eyes and nose on entering the room, +was a tall glass dish, lined with wet green leaves, and pyramided with +red strawberries. A comfortable steam ascended from the nose of the +tea-pot, and vanished upward in the gloom of the ceiling; the brown +toast seemed crackling to be eaten; the smooth-cut slices of marbled +beef lay overlapping one another in silent plenteousness; and the knives +and forks glistened to begin. Cornelia opened the entry-door, and called +across to her papa in the study that supper was ready. Then she took up +her position behind her chair, with one hand resting on its back, and a +silent determination that the visitor, whoever he was, should be +impressed with her dignity, condescension, and good looks.</p> + +<p>"This is my daughter Cornelia. Mr. Bressant is going to be a pupil of +mine, my dear," said the professor, as he and Bressant advanced into the +room.</p> + +<p>He gave his hand an introductory wave in Cornelia's direction as he +spoke, but probably did not speak loud enough to be distinctly beard by +his guest. Nevertheless, seeing the motion and the lady, Bressant +inclined forward his shoulders with an elastic readiness of bearing +which was customary with him, in spite of his unusual stature, and then +took his place at the table without bestowing any further attention upon +her. It passed through Cornelia's mind, as she lifted the tea-pot, that +Mr. Bressant was outrageously conceited, and should be taken down at the +first opportunity. She had made a very graceful courtesy, and it was not +to be overlooked in that way with impunity.</p> + +<p>"Milk and sugar, sir?" said she, interrogatively, raising her eyes to +the young man's face with a somewhat gratuitous formality of manner, and +holding a piece of sugar suspended over the cup.</p> + +<p>Bressant had certainly been looking in her direction as she spoke; he +had the opposite place to her at table; but instead of replying, even +with a motion of the head, he, after a moment, turned to Professor +Valeyon, who was gently oscillating himself in the rocking-chair he +always occupied at meals, and asked him whether he knew any thing about +a place in town called "Abbie's Boarding-house."</p> + +<p>Cornelia laid down the sugar and tongs, and looked very insulted and +flushed. What sort of a creature was this her papa had brought to his +supper-table? Papa, who had noticed the awkward turn, and was tickled by +the humor thereof, could not forbear to give evidence of amusement, +insomuch that his daughter, who was by no means of a lymphatic +temperament, was almost ready to leave the table, or burst into tears +with injured and astonished dignity.</p> + +<p>Bressant, with that exceeding quickness of perception which most persons +with his infirmity possess under such circumstances, transferred his +glance from the professor to the young lady, and at once arrived at a +pretty correct understanding of the difficulty. He was not embarrassed, +for it had probably never occurred to him that his deafness was so much +a defect as a difference of organization, and he lost no time in +explaining matters in his customary way.</p> + +<p>"I'm deaf; when you talk to me you must speak loud," said he, looking +full at Cornelia's disturbed face.</p> + +<p>Miss Valeyon had never been so thoroughly discomfited. She was smitten +on three sides at once. Bad enough to be insulted; worse, having become +properly angry, to find no insult was meant; and, worst of all, to have +been the means of drawing attention, by her bad temper, to a physical +infirmity in her papa's guest. She abandoned upon the instant all +intention of being ceremonious and imposing, and only thought how she +might atone, to her papa and to Bressant, for her ill-behavior.</p> + +<p>He would not take tea—nothing but water; and, as Cornelia proceeded in +silence to pour out her papa's cup, the latter answered Bressant's +question about the boarding-house.</p> + +<p>"Know it very well, sir. Very good house. What have you heard about it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing more than that; I asked a man at the depot. My trunk has been +taken there. I'm satisfied if the woman 'Abbie' is respectable, and +gives me enough to eat." The young man had accepted Cornelia's tender of +a slice of beef, and seemed fully equal to doing it again.</p> + +<p>"The 'woman Abbie' respectable, sir!" exclaimed the professor in +half-muzzled ire; but he checked himself suddenly, and tried to be +contented with shoving his plate, tumbler, and tea-cup, to and fro +before him. "I could not have recommended you to a better person," he +added presently, evidently putting a restraint upon himself. "I have the +highest—I hold her in very high estimation, sir."</p> + +<p>Bressant nodded, and presently took some more of the beef.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Abbie yet, Mr. Bressant?" inquired Cornelia in a timid +tone, which, however, was deprived of all melody by the effort to suit +it to the young man's ears. But it was necessary to say something.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" he replied, smiling at her in the pure good-nature of physical +complacency, and noticing for the first time that she was an agreeable +spectacle. He judged absolutely and primitively, never having had that +experience of women which might have enabled him to make comparison the +base of his opinion. "I came right up here from the depot. My trunk was +sent to the boarding-house; it will hire a room for me, I suppose."</p> + +<p>At this sally, Cornelia smiled very graciously, though ten minutes +before she would have snubbed it promptly. She had had some experience +with the young men of the village—easy victims—and had acquired a +rather good opinion of her satirical powers. But Bressant was a peculiar +case; his deafness enlisted her compassion and forbearance, and her own +late rudeness made her gentle. Perhaps the young gentleman was not so +far out of the way in failing to consider his infirmity a disadvantage.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Professor Valeyon was swinging backward and forward, ever and +anon pausing to take a bite or a sup, and eying the stem of the +strawberry-dish, in deepest contemplation. Cornelia, who from a +combination of causes, felt more embarrassed than ever in her +remembrance, devoutly wished that he would rouse himself, and make some +conversation. She did all she could, in the way of supplying the guest +with eatables, and making little remarks upon them, to fill up awkward +pauses; but she was conscious she was being stupid; and even when she +thought of a good thing to say, the reflection that it must needs be +shouted aloud made her pause until the available moment had gone by. It +was some relief that Bressant ate well, and seemed in no way shy or cast +down himself. There was a freshness and vivacity in his enjoyment of his +supper which was pleasing to Cornelia for several reasons: it was +evidently very far from being affected, was consequently indirectly +complimentary to her, and showed a certain boyishness in him which +contrasted very agreeably, or, as Cornelia would have said, "cunningly," +with his mature and intellectual aspect. In fact, Bressant was in a +particularly happy mood. The cool air and pleasant room, and the +gratification of a healthy appetite, caused his senses to expand, and, +as it were, sun themselves. Cornelia's beauty could not have been +presented under more favorable auspices, especially as woman's +loveliness had heretofore been an unturned page in the young man's life. +True, it pleased him in the same way as, and probably not to a greater +degree than, would the symmetrical elegance of a vase, or the tinted +beauty of a flower; but he had not yet known the limitless additional +charm given by life, variety, and emotion. Would he ever know it? or was +he so profoundly ignorant of the matter as to run in danger of finding +it out unexpectedly, and perhaps too late?</p> + +<p>The strawberry pyramid sank and disappeared. Cornelia began anxiously to +wonder what was to be done now. Bressant sat enjoying his sensations, +and Professor Valeyon, who appeared to have arrived at some definite +conclusion after his meditations, rolled up his napkin and shoved it +into the ring, previous to setting it down with that peculiar tap which +announced that the meal was over.</p> + +<p>On leaving the table, Bressant sauntered out of the room and on to the +balcony, with a disregard of what other people might intend, which +caused Cornelia to recollect her first impression of him. Nevertheless, +not knowing what else she could do, she followed, and found him leaning +over the railing, and looking about him with serene enjoyment. The +clouds had been mostly dispersed; a fresh air moved in the damp garden; +and Cornelia was soon aware that the mosquitoes were abroad. Her +muslin-covered arms and shoulders began to suffer.</p> + +<p>Bressant raised himself at her approach, and stood with one hand +against the railing, looking down upon her with a half-smile of interest +and satisfaction, which made Cornelia feel not so much like a human +being, as some rare natural curiosity which he was glad to have the +opportunity of examining.</p> + +<p>"You are one of the daughters?" said he, with the sudden scrutinizing +contraction of the eyebrows that often accompanied his questions. "There +are two, aren't there? Which one are you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm Cornelia," replied she, provoked, as the words left her mouth, that +she had not said "Miss Valeyon." But the question had surprised her out +of her presence of mind, and the necessity of speaking loud, if nothing +else, hindered her from making the correction.</p> + +<p>"Is the other any thing like you?" resumed he, after a moment's more +contemplation, which, spite of its directness, had in it a certain +element of unsophisticatedness that prevented it from seeming rude.</p> + +<p>"Who, Sophie?" exclaimed the young lady, bursting forth into an +unexpected gurgle of laughter, to which Bressant at once responded in +kind, though having no idea what the merriment was about. "I wish you +could see her! There couldn't be a greater difference if I was a negro!"</p> + +<p>The laugh died away in Bressant's eyes, and he pressed his hand rapidly +down over his face, as if to sharpen his wits, or clear away cobwebs.</p> + +<p>"That's natural," he remarked, reflectively. "I never saw any thing like +you."</p> + +<p>"If he'd said 'any <i>body</i>,'" thought Cornelia, "I should have said he +meant to compliment. How funny he is! just like a boy in some ways. I +believe I know more than he does, after all!"</p> + +<p>"Have you any sisters, Mr. Bressant?" asked she aloud, looking up at him +with more cordiality and confidence than she had yet felt or shown.</p> + +<p>"Not any. I should think it would be a good thing. Do you like it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course; but then I am a sister myself, so it don't apply," said +Cornelia, with the sunshine of another laugh. It was delightful to look +at her at such times; every part of her partook of the merriment, so +that her hands, feet, and waist, might all be said to laugh for +themselves. Cornelia could express a great deal more in a bodily than in +a spiritual way. Her material self, indeed, seemed so completely and +bounteously endowed as to leave little place or occasion for a soul. The +warm, rounded, fragrant, wholesome personality which met the eye, +satisfied it; the harmonious tumult of life, that thrilled in every +movement, was contentment to the other perceptions; the thought of a +soul, bringing with it that other of death, was cold and inconsistent. +Such mortal perfection loses its full effect, unless we can look upon it +as physically immortal: as soon as we begin to refine our ideas into the +abstract, we sully our enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"But your mother must have given you some idea of what a sister would +be," continued Cornelia, presently.</p> + +<p>"Would she? I wish I had one!" said the young man, unconscious that no +such desire had ever entered his head till now, and yet at a loss to +account for its presence. "Mine died more than twenty years ago," he +explained.</p> + +<p>"The poor boy! I believe he don't know what a woman is!" murmured +Cornelia to herself, perhaps not displeased at the reflection that it +lay with her to enlighten him. "No wonder he looked at me as if I were a +mammoth squash, or something. I'm going down in the garden to pluck a +tea-rose bud," added she aloud. "Won't you come?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bressant, following her down the glistening granite steps +with an air of half-puzzled admiration. He liked his new sensations very +much, but knew not what to make of them; and so had a sense of +adventurous uncertainty, which was perhaps a pleasure in itself.</p> + +<p>Cornelia walked down the path in front of him, picking her dainty steps +to avoid stray spears of grass or weeds, and gathering up her light +skirts in one hand, out of the way of the bushes which leaned lovingly +forward to drop a tear upon her. At length she reached the tea-rose +bush, and paused there. Bressant came up and stood beside her.</p> + +<p>It was just dark enough to make the difference between a perfect and an +imperfect bud a matter of some doubt. Cornelia peeped cautiously about, +putting aside the wet twigs gingerly, and lifting up one flower after +another; desisting every once in a while to slap at the fine sting of a +mosquito on her arms or neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh! there's one that looks nice!" exclaimed she, disposing her drapery +to reach across the bush for a distant bud which looked in every respect +satisfactory. But Bressant saw it, and plucked it without effort, +drawing blood from his finger as he did so, however. He smelt it, and +looked from it to Cornelia, apparently trying to identify an idea.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to give me my bud?" demanded Miss Valeyon. "What's the +matter, sir?"</p> + +<p>"In some way it reminds me of you," replied he, giving it to her with a +shake of the head. "I don't see how, but it does!"</p> + +<p>Cornelia gave him a sharp side-look, to make out if he was sincere; but +his face at the moment was in shadow.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps because it pricked your finger," said she.</p> + +<p>She had not spoken loud, and was almost startled when his reply showed +he had heard her. There was again that expression of marvellous +efficiency and power in his face and bearing, but combined with one +partly doubt and partly shrewd scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"I plucked the bud all the same," he remarked. Cornelia, for some +reason, felt a little provoked and a little frightened. He wasn't +entirely unsophisticated after all; and she felt quite uncertain where +the ignorance ended and the knowledge began. She put the bud in her +hair, and they walked on, Bressant being now at her side, instead of +behind. The path was hardly wide enough for two, and now and then she +felt her shoulder touch his arm. Every time this happened, she fancied +her companion gave a kind of involuntary start, and looked around at her +with a quick, inquiring expression—fancied, for she did not meet his +look, being herself conscious of a sort of irregularity of the breath +and pulse attending these contacts, which she could not understand, and +did not feel altogether at ease about. Certainly, there was something +odd in this Bressant! Cornelia hardly knew whether he strongly repelled +or powerfully attracted her. She had half a mind to run back to the +house.</p> + +<p>At this moment, however, they arrived at the fountain, and stood +silently contemplating its weak, persistent struggles. The heavy rain +had not raised its spirits a whit; but neither had it lessened its sense +of duty to be performed. It labored just as hard if not harder than +ever.</p> + +<p>Presently Bressant walked round to the opposite side of the basin, shook +himself and stamped his feet, like one overcoming a feeling of +drowsiness, and then, stooping down, put his hand in the water and +brought some up to his forehead. It passed through Cornelia's mind that +she had read in her "Natural Philosophy," at school, that water was a +good conductor of electricity, but she could not establish any clear +connection between her remembrance of this fact and Bressant's action. +The results of thoughts often present themselves to us when the +processes remain invisible.</p> + +<p>"What an absurd little fountain!" observed he, coming round again to +Cornelia, and looking down upon her with a smile that seemed to call for +a responsive one from her. "What is the use of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're used to it, you know; and then that little sound it makes is +pleasant to listen to."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said Bressant, apparently struck by the idea. "I should like to +hear it. 'A pleasant sound!' I never thought of a sound being pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" thought Cornelia again, with a strong impulse of +compassion and kindliness. "What a dreary life, not even to know that +sounds were beautiful! I suppose all the voices he hears must be harsh +and unnatural, and those are the only kinds of sounds he would attend +to." Looking at him from this new point of view, the feeling of mistrust +and uncertainty of a few minutes before was forgotten. Standing near the +margin of the basin was a rustic bench fantastically made of curved and +knotted branches, the back and arms contrived in rude scroll-work, and +the seat made of round transverse pieces, through whose interstices the +rain-water had passed, leaving it comparatively dry. Cornelia sat down +upon it and motioned Bressant to take his place by her side. As he did +so, she could not help a slight thrill of dismay. He was so very big, +and took up so much room!</p> + +<p>Bressant sat looking straight before him, and said nothing. Stealing a +side-glance at him, Cornelia was possessed by an absurd fancy that he +was alarmed at his position. The idea of being able to scare such a +giant excited the young lady's risibilities so powerfully that she could +not contain herself, but, to her great horror, broke suddenly forth into +a warbling ecstasy of laughter. Bressant looked around, in great +surprise. It was an occasion for presence of mind. Something must be +done at once.</p> + +<p>"Hush! hold perfectly still! It was so absurd to see you sitting there, +and not knowing! There—now—still!" <i>Spat!</i></p> + +<p>A mosquito, which, after considerable reconnoitring, had settled upon +Bressant's broad hand, had sacrificed its life to rescue Cornelia from +her dilemma.</p> + +<p>Bressant felt the soft, warm fingers strike smartly, and then begin to +remove, cautiously and slowly, because the mosquito was possibly not +dead after all. What was the matter with the young man? His blood and +senses seemed to quiver and tingle with a sensation at once delicious +and confusing. In the same instant, he had seized the soft, warm fingers +in both his hands, and pressed them convulsively and almost fiercely. +Cornelia very naturally cried out, and sprang to her feet. Bressant, it +would seem not so naturally, did the same thing, and with the air of +being to the full as much astonished and startled as she.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, sir? how dare you—?" she said, paling after her +first deep flush.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, and then at his own hand, on which the accommodating +mosquito was artistically flattened, and then at her again, with a +slight, interrogative frown.</p> + +<p>"How did it happen? What was it? I didn't mean it!"</p> + +<p>Cornelia was quite at a loss what to do or say under such extraordinary +circumstances. She felt short of breath and indignant; but she had never +heard of a young man's questioning a lady as to how he had come to take +a liberty with her. As she stood thus confounded, her unfortunate +perception of the ludicrous betrayed her once more; but this time her +recent shock played a part in it, and came very near producing a bad fit +of hysterics. Bressant looked on without a word or a motion.</p> + +<p>In less than a minute, for Cornelia's nerves were very strong, and had +never been overtaxed, she had regained command of herself. Bressant was +standing between her and the house, and she pointed up the path.</p> + +<p>"Please go home as quickly as possible."</p> + +<p>Off he walked, with every symptom of readiness and relief. Cornelia +followed after, but, when she reached the house, she found her papa +staring inquiringly out of his study-door; the uncanny pupil in divinity +had disappeared.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant, to do him justice—for he was, on the whole, rather apt to be +polite than otherwise, in his way—entirely forgot the professor's +existence for the time being. He was too self-absorbed to think of other +people. He thought he was bewitched, and felt a strong and healthy +impulse to throw off the witchery before doing any thing else. He sprang +up the steps, across the balcony, traversed the hall with a quick tramp +that shook the house, snatched his hat from the old hat-tree, came down +upon the porch-step (which creaked in a paroxysm of reproach at his +unaccustomed weight), and, in another moment, stood outside the +Parsonage-gate, which, to save time, he had leaped, instead of opening.</p> + +<p>The road was white no longer, but brown and moist. The sky overhead was +deep purple, and full of stars. The air wafted about hither and thither +in little, cool, damp puffs, which were a luxury to inhale. Bressant +drew in two or three long lungfuls; then, setting his round straw hat +more firmly on his head, he leaned slightly forward, and launched +himself into a long, swinging run.</p> + +<p>To run gracefully and well is a rare accomplishment, for it demands a +particularly well-adjusted physical organization, great strength, and a +deep breath-reservoir. Bressant's body poised itself lightly between +the hips, and swayed slightly, but easily, from side to side at each +spring. The knees alternately caught the weight without swerving, and +shifted it, with an elastic toss, from one to the other. The feet came +down sharp and firm, and springily spurned the road in a rapid though +rhythmical succession. In a few moments, the turn around the spur of the +hill was reached, and the runner was well settled down to his pace.</p> + +<p>The stone-fences, the occasional apple-trees, the bushes and bits of +rock bordering the road, slipped by half seen. The full use of the eyes +was required for the path in front, rough as it was with loose stones, +and seamed with irregular ruts. Easy work enough, however, as long as it +remained level, and open to the starlight. But, some distance beyond, +there dipped a pretty abrupt slope, and here was need for care and +quickness. Sometimes a step fell short, or struck one side, to avoid a +stone, or lengthened out to overpass it. The whole body was thrown more +back, and the heels dug solidly into the earth, at each downward leap. +Here and there, where the incline was steeper, four or five foot-tramps +followed rapidly upon each other; and then, gathering himself up, with a +sudden, strong clutch, as it were, the young man continued on as before. +Thus the slope was left behind; and now began a low, long stretch, lying +between meadows, overshadowed by a bordering of willow-trees, and +studded with lengths of surreptitious puddles, for the ground was +clayey, and the rain was unabsorbed. As Bressant entered upon it, he +felt the cold moisture of the air meet his warm face refreshingly; he +was breathing deep and regularly, and now let himself out to a yet +swifter pace than before.</p> + +<p>The willow-trees started suddenly from the forward darkness, and +vanished past in a dusky twinkling. The road seemed drawn in swift, +smooth lines from beneath his feet, he moving as in a mighty treadmill. +The breeze softly smote his forehead, and whispered past his ears. Now +he rose lightly in the air over an unexpected puddle, striking the +farther side with feet together, and so on again. Twice or thrice, his +steps sounded hollowly over a plank bridging. At a distance, steadily +approaching, appeared the outlet, light against the dark willow setting. +When it was reached, ensued a rough acclivity, hard for knees and lungs, +winding upward for a considerable distance. Up the runner went, with +seemingly untired activity, and the stones and sand spurted from beneath +his ascending feet. The air became drier and warmer again as he mounted, +and the meadows slept beneath him in their clammy darkness.</p> + +<p>Near the brow of the hill stood a farm-house, black against the sky. +Bressant marked the light through the curtained window, dimly bringing +out a transverse strip of road; the pump standing over its trough with +uplifted arm and dangling cup; the rambling shed, with the wagon half +hidden beneath it; the barn, with blank windowless front, and shingled +roof. A dog barked sharply at him, as he echoed by, but inaudibly to +Bressant's ears. Presently a raised sidewalk divided off from the road, +affording a smoother course; the outlying houses of the village slipped +past one after another; a white picket-fence twittered indistinguishably +by. The runner was nearing the end of his journey, and now leaned a +little farther forward, and his feet fell in a quicker rhythm than ever.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the village street stood the corner grocery; a +wooden awning in front, some men loafing at the door, who looked up as +the sound of Bressant's passing struck their ears; within, an indistinct +vision of barrels of produce, hams pendent from the dusky ceiling, some +brooms in a corner, and a big cheese upon the counter. Next succeeded +the series of adjoining shop-fronts, with their various windows, signs, +and styles; all wooden and clap-boarded, however, except the fire-engine +house, of red brick, with its wide central door and boarded slope to the +street. Bressant's steps echoed closely back from between the buildings; +once he clattered sharply over a stretch of brick sidewalk; once dodged +aside to avoid overrunning a dark-figured man. The village was left +behind; yonder stood the boarding-house, dimly white and irregular of +outline; he remembered it from the glimpse he had had in passing on his +way from the depot. In a few quick moments more he stood before the +door, glowing warm, from head to foot, drawing his deep breath easily, +his blood flowing in full, steady beats through heart and veins. He took +off his hat, passed his handkerchief over forehead and face, and then +pulled the tinkling door-bell. A fat Irish girl presently appeared, and +ushered him in with a stare and a grin, wiping her hands upon her apron.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Cornelia, having said a few words to her father to excuse +Bressant's unceremonious departure—she refrained instinctively from +letting him know what had actually taken place—bade him good-night, and +went up-stairs with a more sober step than was her wont. She tapped at +Sophie's door, and stayed just long enough to make the necessary +arrangements for the night. Sophie, being drowsy, asked but few +questions, and received brief replies. When Cornelia reached her own +room, she closed the door with a feeling of relief. It had never been +her habit to fasten her door; but to-night, after advancing a few paces +into the chamber, she hesitated, turned back, and drew the bolt. Then, +having hastily pulled down the curtains, she seemed for the first time +to be free from a sensation of restraint.</p> + +<p>She walked up to the dressing-table, which was covered with a disorderly +medley of a young lady's toilet articles—comb and brush, a paper of +pins, ribbons, a brooch, little vase for rings, an open purse, a soiled +handkerchief—and began mechanically to undo her hair, and shake out the +braids. It was dark-brown hair, not soft and delicately fine like +Sophie's, but vigorous and crisp, each hair seeming to be distinct, and +yet harmonizing with the rest. As it was loosened and fell voluminously +spreading over her shoulders, she paused, resting against the table, and +looked at her face in the glass with critical earnestness. The candle, +standing at one side of the mirror, cast soft and deep shadows beneath +the darkly-defined eyebrows, and against the straight line of the nose, +and around the clear, short curves of the mouth and upper lip. The light +rested tenderly on her firm, oval cheeks, so deep-toned, yet pale, and +brought out an almost invisible dimple on each cheek-bone beneath the +eye, usually only to be distinguished when she laughed or smiled. The +forehead, so far as it could be seen beneath the hair, was smooth and +straight, neither high nor especially wide. The ears were small and +white, but rather too much cut away below to be in perfect proportion. +Over all seemed spread a mellow, rich, transparent, laughing medium, +that was better than beauty, and without which beauty would have seemed +cold and tame, or at least passionless. There was a delicate mystery in +the face, too, not conscious or self-woven, but of that impalpable and +involuntary sort which sometimes looks from the eyes of young unmarried +women, whose natures have developed sweetly and freely, without warping +or forcing. It has nothing to do with religion, nor with what we +commonly understand by spirit. It is not to be described or analyzed; +like the blue of heaven, it is the infinitely elusive property which is +the very secret and necessity of its existence.</p> + +<p>Cornelia looked searchingly at this face, and, though much of its +subtlest charm must necessarily have been lost upon her, she saw a great +deal that gave her pleasure. She had never been subjected to that +awakening but coarsening process which teaches a girl to call herself a +beauty; but there is a certain amount of instinctive perception, in +these matters, and she could not but know that what had virtue to +gratify her would not lack in effect over others. Nor was she in the +habit of taking stock of herself in the looking-glass; only to-night she +seemed to have an especial motive in making or renewing her own +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>At length she dropped her eyes, and, with nimble fingers and +swiftly-applied hair-pins, wound up her hair into its nocturnal knot. +She removed her ear-rings and rings, and put them into the vase; but +here reverie overtook her once more, and held her in a meditative +half-smile, until consciousness revived, and startled the blood into her +cheeks. She walked over to her little sofa, with dispatch and business +in her step, and sat down to unlace her boots.</p> + +<p>There is something in these little ever-recurring actions, +however—these things which we do so often as to do them +unconsciously—which predisposes to thought and reflection. Cornelia, +having untied the knot, had not got farther than the fourth hole from +the top, her eyes meanwhile wandering slowly around the picturesque but +rather disorderly little room, before she became dreamily interested in +watching the shadow of a neck-scarf she had hung upon the support of the +looking-glass, projected upon the wall by the flickering light of the +candle. As she looked, her fingers began to labor upon the boot-lace, +and her eyes grew gradually larger and darker. Occasionally there were +little quiverings of the upper and under lids, barely perceptible +movements of the tip of the nose and the nostrils, and twitching at the +mouth-corners. By-and-by the twitchings resolved themselves into a +smile, very faint and far away at first, but broadening and brightening +every moment; now, the dimples were visible at half a glance, and now, +upon the still air of the chamber, there rippled forth—</p> + +<p>Cornelia put her hand to her mouth, and gave a quick, furtive glance +over her shoulder, as if in fear lest some one might have overheard her. +She recollected with some relief that the door was locked at any rate, +and the curtains down. But, for all that, as she realized what she had +been thinking about, and how very far her papa or Sophie would be from +laughing if they were told about it, she felt her cheeks tingle, and +could not be busy enough with that boot-lace!</p> + +<p>There! that was off; now for the other. What a queer man he was, though! +Could all that have been put on in the garden—pretending he didn't +know! (This was such a tiresome old knot!) If she only hadn't been such +a goose and laughed—what must he think? What could have been the reason +he rushed off in such a hurry? Probably was afraid she'd tell papa, and +then he couldn't be his pupil. Suppose she should tell! that would be +mean, though. Perhaps he didn't intend it, after all. He seemed nice in +some ways, though he was so queer. Very likely it was only a sort of +spasm—an electric, magnetic thing—she had heard of something of the +sort. Yes, and she had felt funny herself that evening—a numb, quivery, +prickly kind of sensation: it may have been the thunder-storm! It was +strange, though; she never remembered to have felt it before. She +wondered whether Mr. Bressant ever had. Perhaps deaf people were more +subject to it. What a pity he should be deaf! It made it so awfully +embarrassing to talk to him sometimes. It must be dreadful for them to +be in love with anybody. Imagine having to talk in that way to a deaf +person! or being—</p> + +<p>This time it was the candle which took upon itself the task of warning +and censorship. It flickered, flared, gasped, and went out. It was a +very pathetic, and, it is to be hoped, effective way of remonstrance. +But the last thing seen of Cornelia, she was sitting on the sofa, +leaning carelessly forward, one hand holding her curved, little, booted +foot, the knot still untied, her eyes fixed dreamily on nothing, the +half-smile flickering on her lips, and the womanly contours of her +figure doubtfully lighted and darkly shaded by the uncertain +candle-light.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL.</h3> + + +<p>The morning following Bressant's arrival was clear and cool. Professor +Valeyon looked out of the window of his bedroom, which was at the +garden-end of the house, and opposite Cornelia's, and saw the cold, +white mists lying in the valley, and the rough hills, like islands, +lifting their dark shoulders above it.</p> + +<p>As he looked, the sun, having climbed a few inches above the eastern +uplands, let a bright glance fall right upon the open spot at the summit +of the professor's favorite hill. A few minutes afterward he poured a +golden flood into the valley, carrying consternation to the delaying +vapors, insomuch that they straightway put themselves into commotion +preparatory to departure. No spare time was allowed them; some were +bundled off into the dark gullies and passes of the hills; others betook +themselves hastily to that side of the valley which was yet in shadow, +to sleep a few moments beyond the legitimate time; others still, finding +escape impossible, rose heavenward like a mighty incense, and were by +the sun converted into something wellnigh as glorious as himself.</p> + +<p>"Good simile for a sermon, that! turning persecution into a means of +glorification!" thought the professor, recurring to the days of his +pastorship.</p> + +<p>As may be inferred, the old gentleman was in the habit of getting up +early; a praiseworthy practice, but one so universal with elderly people +as to suggest a doubt of its being entirely a voluntary virtue. Be that +as it may, the professor was up, and proceeded to set his blood in +motion over a wash-bowl. His toilet was not so intricate and serious a +matter as it might have been forty years or so previous, but was +nevertheless a duty most scrupulously and conscientiously performed, +from June to December, and round again. The last thing attended to +before putting on his coat was always carefully to brush and dispose his +hair. Until within two or three years, he had been able to keep up +appearances by coaxing a gray rift across the top of the bald place; but +it had grown month by month thinner and grayer, and more difficult to +keep in position, until at last he had bravely told himself it was a +vanity and a delusion, and had consigned it to obscurity and oblivion +among the rusty side-locks which still sturdily surrounded the naked and +inaccessible summit. Since that time he had occasionally allowed his +thoughts to revert to it regretfully, though not bitterly nor +rebelliously.</p> + +<p>But, on this particular morning, he stood, brush in hand, before his +looking-glass with an expression upon his elderly features at once +undecided, wistful, and shame-faced; detached, after a short search, a +few frosty spears from the assortment at the left side of his head; +scrutinized them anxiously for a moment, and then, by the aid of a +little water, and cautious brushing and pulling, succeeded in spatting +them down into their long-abandoned place.</p> + +<p>"I'm an old fool, that's certain!" muttered he, as, after a final +surreptitious sort of glance at the unaccustomed embellishment, he +turned away. "But then I don't go out calling every day!"</p> + +<p>He slipped on his coat, opened his door, and descended the stairs with +his usual solid deliberation. As he emerged upon the balcony, the +sunshine had just lighted up the tree-tops in the garden, but a little +nest of white mist still rested upon the fountain, whose indefatigably +small gabble could be heard proceeding mysteriously from the centre +thereof. A few large, thin mosquitoes, cold and portentously hungry from +their all-night's fast, came swooping at the professor with shrieks of +dismal tenuity, intending to get a warm breakfast out of him. But he had +had large experience in dealing with such gentry, and, so far from +standing treat, he slew several and threw the rest into confusion.</p> + +<p>"And now," said he to himself, as he descended the steps, "I'll take a +look at Dolly; Michael hasn't let out Lady Bountiful or the hens yet, I +suspect."</p> + +<p>The barn lay in a separate enclosure to the west of the garden; it was a +primitive structure enough, but had been refitted within so as to afford +accommodation for the family steed and the cow. The former, Dolly, was a +well-preserved bay, neatly put together, and, had the professor been so +inclined, she might have become a celebrity in her day. As it was, she +had seen no more stirring duty than to convey her owner to and from +church, during the years of his ministrations there; to draw the plow +and the hay-cart occasionally, and to gallop over the rough country +roads beneath the side-saddle, for the benefit of Cornelia or Sophie. +She was at this time about fifteen years old, but still retained much +of the spirit of her best days, and not unfrequently gave the professor +some pains to keep her within bounds.</p> + +<p>He threw open the barn-door, and forth upon the crisp air floated the +close, sweet smell of hay and cow's breath. Some swallows twittered and +glanced up near the dark roof, as smart and wide-awake as if they had +not just been startled out of bed. The sun, shining through the cracks +and knot-holes into the dusky interior, drew lines of dusty light across +the darkness. A hen, that had escaped from the coop and got up into the +hay-loft to lay an egg, set up a strongly-remonstrative cackle against +being disturbed in so interesting a proceeding. Lady Bountiful lowed +argumentatively, and Dolly stamped, wagged her head knowingly up and +down, and then shook it with a whinny. The professor patted her neck and +smoothed down her nose.</p> + +<p>"Need some exercise, don't you, old girl?" quoth he, looking pleasantly +upon her. "All right! we'll go down-town after breakfast. Yes! we'll +make a call on Abbie." So saying, he pulled down some fresh hay, and +left her to champ it; then, picking his way across the uneven floor to +where the white and horned countenance of Lady Bountiful was thrust +through the bars of her stall, he slipped her halter and let her out +into the meadow. Having examined the wagon, to make sure it was in +proper order, he concluded his labors by throwing open the hen-coop, out +of which immediately hastened a troop of indignant and astonished fowls, +led by a rooster, who seemed always to be vacillating between +insufferable masculine arrogance and an effeminate curiosity and +avarice.</p> + +<p>By the time Professor Valeyon had remounted the granite steps, he was +quite ready to do justice to his breakfast. Cornelia came singing +down-stairs, with a full-blown tea-rose in her hair, and looking as if +she had already breakfasted upon the greater part of the day's sunshine. +She reported Sophie to be awake and comfortable, so the gentleman +climbed up-stairs and shuffled into her peaceful, rose-colored room to +give her a morning kiss. The Lord's Prayer glowed forth as brightly from +the wall as if it had been pronounced for the first time that day.</p> + +<p>"Well, heard all about my new pupil from Cornelia, I suppose?" said +papa, when the kiss had been given, sitting down by the bedside, and +holding his daughter's pale, slender hand in his own.</p> + +<p>"He who came last evening? No, I've not seen Neelie to speak to her, +since he was here. What is he to be taught?"</p> + +<p>"Wants to be a minister," replied the professor, rubbing his beard. +"Shall do what I can for him, because he's the son of a former friend, +now dead. I'm afraid he won't do, though. Needs a good deal besides +Hebrew and history."</p> + +<p>"But you can give him all he does need, papa," rejoined Sophie, with +serene faith in the old gentleman's infallibility.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," returned he, his eyes resting upon the Lord's Prayer. "I +don't know," he repeated, turning them to his daughter's transparent +face, which seemed almost an incarnation of the divine words. "I think, +my dear, that you could put some ideas into his head that would do him +more good than any thing I can give him;" and he smiled gravely upon +her.</p> + +<p>"All right, papa," said Sophie, gayly, with a tender kindling of her +soft, gray eyes. "Nothing could make me happier than to do good to +somebody. As soon as I get well enough, I'll take him under my charge."</p> + +<p>Her manner was playful, but there was a vibration in her tone which +caught the professor's ear, and conveyed to him the idea that there was +an unseen depth of yearning and passionate desire to be something more +than an invalid, selfish and helpless, during her earthly life; an +inheritance, perhaps, of the apostolic spirit which had played a not +inconsiderable part in the history of his own life. And surely, he may +have thought, there never was human being better qualified than she to +inspire to high and pure simplicity of life and thought, were it merely +by the example of her own. And would it not be a strange and beautiful +thing, if this beloved daughter of his should be the means of turning to +worthier and truer ambitions a man whom, of all others, he had reason to +wish honored and respected among mankind! It was a very alluring +thought, and the professor quite lost himself for a few moments in the +contemplation of it. He did not reflect, and Sophie could not know, that +there might be danger in the prosecution of such a scheme; for, all the +knowledge which a young girl like her can have or impart, must find its +ultimate origin in the heart. But then, again, the matter had taken no +definite or practical shape in his mind as yet, and things which in the +abstract may wear an appearance of being highly desirable often put on +quite a different look when presented in concrete form. This would be +especially the case with a man like Professor Valeyon, who was half a +dreamer, and half a practical, common-sensible individual. With Sophie, +however, whose whole life was necessarily a tissue of delicate and +high-wrought theories, there was no safeguard of the kind to be relied +upon.</p> + +<p>No more conversation was had upon the subject at that time. The +professor went down to his breakfast, and, having disposed of it with +good appetite, and smoked his morning-pipe with quiet satisfaction, +Michael brought Dolly and the wagon round to the front door, the old +gentleman clambered in, and off they rattled to Abbie's boarding-house.</p> + +<p>This "Abbie," as she was called in the village—indeed, not more than +one in a hundred knew her other name—had long been an institution among +the townspeople. When she first became a resident was uncertain: some +said more, some less than twenty years ago. Certain it was, at all +events, that she had grown, during her sojourn there, from a young and +comely, though sober-faced woman, to considerably more than middle age; +though time had perhaps used her less kindly than most women in her +situation in life, which is saying a good deal. No one could tell where +she came from, or what her previous life had been. She had first made +her appearance as purchaser of the house in which she had ever since +lived, and kept boarders. She was uncommunicative, without seeming +offensively reserved; quietly tenacious of her rights, though far from +grasping or aggressive, and was endowed with decided executive ability. +She had made a most unexceptionable landlady; one or two of her +boarders had been with her almost since the inception of her enterprise; +while all the better class of transient visitors to the village, which +had a moderate popularity as a summer resort, made their first +application for rooms to her.</p> + +<p>Some ten or twelve years after her establishment, Professor Valeyon and +his family had moved into town. They had not taken up their quarters at +Abbie's, though she could easily have accommodated them, as far as room +went; a circumstance which caused all the more surprise in some +quarters, because there seemed to have been some previous acquaintance +between herself and the professor. But Abbie was even less talkative +upon this than upon other subjects; and no one ventured to catechise the +grave and forcible-looking man who was the only other source of possible +information. After a time, he settled in the house which subsequently +became the parsonage; and, since no particular relations were kept up +between his family and the boarding-house keeper, curiosity and comment +died a natural death, and it even came to be doubted whether they ever +had met each other before, after all.</p> + +<p>Abbie, at the present time, was a taciturn personage, neither tall nor +short, stout nor thin. Her eyebrows were straight and strongly marked, +and much darker than her hair, which, indeed, had begun to turn gray +several years before. There was nothing especially noticeable in her +other features, except that the lips were habitually compressed, and the +chin so square-cut and firm as to be almost masculine. A good many +little wrinkles could be traced around the mouth, and at the corners of +the eyes, especially when she was much depressed; and sometimes her +expression was very hard and stern. Her manners were quite +undemonstrative; they seemed to be neither fastidious nor the reverse, +and it would have been hard to predicate from them in what station of +life she had been brought up. She certainly adapted herself well to +whatever society she happened to be with; neither patricians nor +plebeians found any thing to criticise; but, whether this were the +result of tact, or owing merely to the adoption of a negative standard, +no one could say. In language she was uniformly correct, without seeming +at all scholastic; she occasionally used the idioms and dialectic +peculiarities of those around her, though never with the air of being +heedlessly betrayed into them.</p> + +<p>On the whole, therefore, the boarding-house keeper remained a problem or +a commonplace, according to the fancy of the observer. In any case, she +had grown to be a necessity, if not a popular element, in the village +society. It was in her large, rambling rooms that all the grand parties +and social celebrations took place. Was a picnic or other +pleasure-expedition in prospect, Abbie's experience and managing ability +were depended on for its success. She it was who arranged the details of +weddings; and her assistance was almost as necessary a condition of a +legitimate funeral, as that of Death himself!</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon drove up to the door in his wagon, got down with all +the care that the successful support of his burden of years demanded, +and chained Dolly to the much-gnawed post which was fixed for the +purpose on the edge of the sidewalk. He ascended the steps, and was met +by Abbie on the threshold. He removed his hat with old-fashioned +courtesy, and gave her cold hand a quiet, warm grasp.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Abbie," said he, gruffly, but cheerfully, and with a very +kind look out of his deep-set old eyes. "Is all well with you this +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied she, with a faint smile, that seemed to show more of +weariness than merriment. "Come into the boudoir, Professor Valeyon. +You're a stranger."</p> + +<p>"But that's going to be remedied—that's going to be remedied!" rejoined +the old gentleman, seating himself, and allowing his hand to wander to +the top of his head, to make sure the hair-swathe was safely in +position. "Bond of union been established between us, you know."</p> + +<p>Abbie laid her finger upon her under lip—a common act of hers when +interested or absorbed—and looked at her caller inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"That young fellow that came last night, sent his trunk up before coming +himself. Saw him, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>Abbie shook her head. "I saw his trunk, but not him. Mr. Bressant, I +think. You know him?"</p> + +<p>"He's going to study divinity with me. I take some interest in him, +though he's in an unsatisfactory condition just now; intellectual +savagery, I should call it. I take it, his training has been at fault. +Seems to have no social nor affectionate instincts. It would be a good +thing to make him feel their value, to begin with."</p> + +<p>"I'll make it as home-like for him as I can, Professor Valeyon."</p> + +<p>"Well, well! I meant to ask you to do it. It'll be a new experience for +him. He's never known a mother since he was a baby, and his father +was—well!"—the old man checked himself—"his father is just dead." He +seemed about to add something more in regard to the deceased gentleman, +but forbore, glancing narrowly at Abbie, who looked only grave and +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"How old is he? A boy?" she asked, presently.</p> + +<p>"Boyish in some ways, but must be twenty-five or six, and looks older. A +tall fellow, well made."</p> + +<p>"He might still be a son of mine," said Abbie, with another dim smile, +and a sigh. "Perhaps it would do me no harm to consider him as such. +Would that satisfy you?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I want!" exclaimed the professor heartily, and with +heightened color. "Something can be made of him, I think," he added; +"but a great deal depends on the sort of treatment he eats and sleeps +under. Well, you be motherly to him, Abbie. That's all I have to ask. +You will find good in it for yourself, too, as you say: more than you +think, very likely."</p> + +<p>She sighed again, playing absently with her fingers upon her +dark-colored dress, and gazing out of the window. Professor Valeyon said +no more on the subject of Bressant, but spoke of Cornelia's proposed +trip, and the Fourth-of-July party, and Sophie's convalescence; and +finally took his straw-hat from the table upon which he had placed it, +and moved toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Abbie. Remember"—the old gentleman paused, with her hand in +his, and glowing upon her from beneath his bushy eyebrows; "remember you +have friends about you who don't need to be sought after. And another +thing, Abbie; if you should ever find that Time has the power to +liberate as well as to imprison you, don't forget that some wants may +exist a long while without finding expression, but that they do exist, +for all that!"</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the consciousness that he was using rather grandiloquent +language in the wording of this enigmatical little speech, that caused +the good professor to look so red and embarrassed. Abbie drew her hand +away, and laid her finger on her lip.</p> + +<p>"Can you still say that?" asked she, with a sad kind of gleam in her +eyes and voice.</p> + +<p>"More than ever—more than ever!" declared he, with emphatic +incoherence. And without more words he hurried down the steps, and in +another minute was rattling rapidly homeward, astonishing Dolly herself +by the speed which he encouraged her to put forth.</p> + +<p>"It'll all work round," soliloquized he; "very good beginning this. If I +could have spoken more explicitly—but she'll be prepared, and that's a +great step toward clearing things up. Gee up! Dolly."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>GREAT EXPECTATIONS.</h3> + + +<p>"Sophie," said Cornelia, several days afterward, "do you know, I believe +I'll stay for that party at Abbie's, after all."</p> + +<p>The two sisters were engaged in planning out an evening dress, and +Sophie's bed was so covered with the confusion thereof, that her quiet +little face, appearing above, looked odd by contrast.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad," replied she, with the simplicity and lack of ornamentation +that made her words forcible; "and I'm sure Abbie will be glad, too."</p> + +<p>"There's no reason why I shouldn't, you know," resumed the elder sister, +falling into that pleasing vein of argument wherein we consciously +express the views of our interlocutor; "a few days won't make any +difference to Aunt Margaret, and I wouldn't like to have poor old Abbie +think that I slighted her, just because I am going to enter New York +society! Besides, I think this dress will look very nice when it's +finished—don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," said Sophie, smiling to herself. "Is Mr. Bressant going to +the party?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. No, I should suppose not. He's a great student, you +know, and is going to be a minister and every thing. That isn't the sort +of people that takes interest in parties. Besides, he couldn't hear the +music, so, of course, he couldn't dance."</p> + +<p>"Some deaf people can hear music, and even compose it."</p> + +<p>"Can they? But then just imagine having to talk to a deaf person in a +ballroom! it would be awfully embarrassing, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>Sophie, who knew her sister well, and was very shrewd besides, began to +suspect that it would not be displeasing to Cornelia to be opposed, and +even out-argued upon the question of Mr. Bressant's probable attendance +at the party, and qualifications to make himself agreeable when there. +She enjoyed the amusement, in Her demure way, and was besides interested +to hear something about her father's pupil.</p> + +<p>"I should think," said she, in a modestly suggestive manner, keeping her +eyes busy with her work, "that it would be less embarrassing at a party +than anywhere. You know everybody expects to say and hear nothing but +nonsense, and there isn't a great deal said even of that. And you're +obliged to talk loud, at any rate, on account of the music and noise."</p> + +<p>"Well, you may be right," admitted Cornelia, who certainly did take her +sister's opposition with admirable good-nature. "And I was thinking, +Sophie, perhaps if they are not very deaf indeed, you know they might +get so used to the sound of one's voice as to hear it even when it +wasn't so much raised."</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly!" assented Sophie; "to some kinds of voices, at any +rate; probably to a woman's more easily than to a man's. Is Mr. Bressant +very deaf, Neelie?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia glanced quickly at her sister, but was reassured by the grave +composure of her aspect. Nevertheless, she was deeply engrossed in her +new dress as she made reply.</p> + +<p>"Oh! no. Well, not so very; I can hardly tell, though, I've spoken to +him so little. He's rather quick at catching your meaning, sometimes, I +think."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he's a man who would get married?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't believe he'll ever be married," said Cornelia, and blushed, +she scarce knew why. "No woman would marry him."</p> + +<p>"Is he so disagreeable?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia moved her shoulders in a little shudder. "Oh, not that exactly; +but he's so cold and bright and hard. And he isn't always that way, +either. There are times when he's so strange—so different! I don't +believe he understands himself then. There seems to be a wild fire in +him, that once in a while blazes up, and scorches and frightens him as +well as other people."</p> + +<p>Sophie was perhaps more interested in this extravaganza of Cornelia's +than if she had known the incident upon which it was mainly founded; +but, on the other hand, it is possible that less exaggerated language +would not have given her so correct an idea of Bressant's character. +Cornelia—there being nothing else to especially occupy her +thoughts—had allowed them to run a good deal upon Bressant, and upon +what happened by the fountain in the garden: perhaps she had mingled the +real things and events with the fantasies of her dreams, and thus built +up an impression and theory in regard to the young man considerably more +picturesque than was warranted by the premises at her command. All this +would have been done involuntarily; and possibly Sophie's question +elicited the first conscious perception and statement of what Cornelia's +opinion had grown to be. But unconscious judgments are often more +accurate than deliberate ones because there is more of intuition about +them.</p> + +<p>Be that as it may, from the moment Sophie imbibed the idea that there +was something strange, fierce, and ungovernable in Bressant's nature, +she felt her sympathy and interest moved and aroused. It was the +instinctive attraction of one strong spirit toward another, the more, +because that other was so differently embodied, endowed, and +circumstanced. She was a bed-ridden invalid, but she thrilled, like +Achilles, at the first gleam and clangor of arms. The only thing that +Sophie feared, and from which she shrank, was Sin. All else attracted +her in proportion as it was powerful, stirring, or awe-inspiring. +Delicate, sensitive, and apparently meek and timid as was her nature, +her heart was firm as a Roman general's, and her soul as large and +sympathetic as an Apostle's. Did the occasion offer, this pale +minister's daughter was capable of great and immortal deeds.</p> + +<p>"Which way do you like him best, Neelie?" demanded she at length, +removing the dilated gaze of her gray eyes from the round knot on the +top of the bed-post; "when he's cold and bright, or when he's wild and +fiery."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't like him at all!" exclaimed Cornelia, shuddering again.</p> + +<p>Lest she should be suspected of a wilful misstatement, it may be as +well to show how it might happen that she should deceive herself in the +matter. Such likes and dislikes as she had heretofore felt could one and +all have been paraphrased as a more or less agreeable state of mind, +induced by the sight or thought of such and such an individual. She had +never conceived the possibility that a vital affection could take its +origin in aversion and fear, and grow strong through turmoil, passion, +and suffering. As a matter of course, she estimated her feeling toward +Bressant by the only gauge she had, and with no reference to the fact +that it was a wholly inadequate one.</p> + +<p>The majority of the impressions she had received of him could not +certainly be called pleasant; and that he was continually in her +thoughts; that every thing she heard or saw connected itself, in one way +or another, with him; that he bore a possible part in many of her +imaginations of the future—these were factors she did not take into +account, because ignorant of their significance. The conclusion that she +did not like him was therefore a legitimate one, according to the light +she had.</p> + +<p>Whatever Sophie may have thought of Cornelia's answer, she said no more, +but lay in reverie, opening and shutting her scissors in an objectless +manner, until Cornelia's voice flowed forth again.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a pity he wasn't a nice, jolly, society fellow? it would have +been such fun this winter! As it is, I don't suppose we shall be able to +do so much even as if we were alone."</p> + +<p>"From something papa said the other day, I think he'd like to try and +make Mr. Bressant more of a society fellow; perhaps it would wear away +that coldness and hardness you speak of."</p> + +<p>"What I teach him the arts and pleasures of fashionable life?" exclaimed +Cornelia, laughing. "Dear me! I'd no more think of trying to teach that +great big thing any thing than—any thing!"</p> + +<p>"But you can make him go to Abbie's party, if you are to be there +yourself, and then, if you don't want to instruct him, you can give him +to some one who isn't afraid of him, and—have Bill Reynolds all to +yourself."</p> + +<p>Cornelia laughed and pouted, and told Sophie she was mean; but probably +felt it a relief to have poor Bill's name introduced, he being so +palpably <i>hors de combat</i>.</p> + +<p>"It would be pretty good fun, after all—walking round on the arm of +that great, tall, broad-shouldered creature, and telling him how to +behave! I believe I <i>will</i> try it!" and she straightened herself up with +a very valiant air.</p> + +<p>"It will be your last chance, remember!" said Sophie, looking up with a +deep smile in her eyes. "I promised papa that when I was well I'd take +charge of Mr. Bressant myself!"</p> + +<p>Sophie's life, as has been said, was preeminently an ideal one. +Materialism disturbed and perplexed her, and she ignored it as much as +possible. She was inspired and excited by the ideal she had conceived of +Bressant, and of her sphere of action with regard to him. But, had the +physical personality of the man been thrust upon her in the first place, +she would have very likely recoiled, her finer intuitions would have +been jarred, and their precision paralyzed. Standing aloof, however, +living and acting only in the realm of her pure maiden creeds, every +thing seemed clear and simple enough. Right should be done, and wrong be +righted; there would be no material conditions or hinderances; results +were attained immediately.</p> + +<p>But life is not what the pure-hearted girl painted it in her ideal +dreams. The unconsidered obstacles rise into frowning and insurmountable +barriers. Those we would make our beneficiaries often fail to appreciate +their position, and turn our good into a worse evil than their own. We +may theorize about the human soul, but, to put our theories to the test, +is to assume an awful responsibility.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE DAGUERROTYPE.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant occupied two adjoining rooms at Abbie's boarding-house; one +contained his bed and the other was fitted up as his study. They were on +the second floor of the house, and attainable through two turns in the +lower entry, a winding flight of narrow stairs, and an uncertain, darkly +erratic route above.</p> + +<p>The study was some twelve feet by eight; the floor ornamented by a +carpet which, to judge from the size of the pattern, must have been +designed to grace some fifty-foot drawing-room. The furniture consisted +of a deal table with a folding leaf, a chair, a stove—which, perhaps +because it was so small, had been permitted to remain all summer—and a +broad-seated lounge with squeaky springs, but quite roomy and +comfortable, which monopolized a large portion of the room. The walls +were papered with a bewildering diamond pattern, in blue and white. Upon +the outside window-sill stood a pot of geraniums, and another of +heliotrope.</p> + +<p>A good many books were stowed away in various parts of the study; piled +one upon another in the corner by the stove, ranged side by side beneath +the lounge, carefully disposed upon the inner window-sill, and occupying +as much space as could be spared to them on the table. There were few +ornaments to be seen; no landscapes or hunting-scenes—no pictures of +pretty women—no fancy pieces for the mantel—no wine either, nor +cigars, for Bressant neither smoked nor drank. A beautifully-finished +and colored drawing of a patent derrick, in plan and side elevation, was +pinned to the wall opposite the window. Above the mantel-piece hung an +ingeniously-contrived card almanac, by which the day of week and month +could be told for a hundred years to come. Two small globes, terrestrial +and astronomical, stood upon the table; on the mantel-piece was an +ordinary kerosene-lamp, with a conical shade of enamelled green paper, +arabesqued in black, and ornamented with three transparencies, +representing (when the lamp was lighted) bloody and fiery scenes in the +late war; but in the daytime appearing to be nothing more terrible than +plain pieces of white tissue-paper.</p> + +<p>For two weeks Bressant had done his studying and thinking in this room. +He had enormous powers of application, naturally and by acquisition, and +the first fortnight had seen them exerted to their full extent. This +diligence, however, was practised not so much because the course of +study marked out necessitated it, as by way of voluntary +self-discipline. His first evening's experience in the Parsonage garden +had given the young man a serious shock; a disturbing influence had +obtained possession of him, of which he could understand no more than +that it appeared to have some connection with Cornelia. It interfered, +at unexpected moments, with his processes of thought; it distracted his +schemes of argument; it wrote itself unintelligibly upon the page he was +reading. It even followed him in his rough tramps up the hills and +through the woods, and sometimes shook the hand which held the pen +during his compositions.</p> + +<p>Bressant knew not how best to combat his novel difficulty. Although +called into existence by an extraneous circumstance, it seemed to have +struck root in every faculty of his mind, and, what was more, into the +inmost core of every faculty. He was possessed, not by seven devils, but +by one devil in seven different forms. He felt that the only thing to be +done, if he did not intend to make an entire surrender of himself, was +to take stern and rigorous measures for deliverance. The best course +that suggested itself was to study his sevenfold devil down; taking +every precaution, of course, to keep out of the way of all additional +contamination; and this course he adopted, and had conscientiously +adhered to. It was with very pardonable satisfaction that he felt his +malady gradually and surely give way before his unsparing regimen, until +by the first of July he considered himself entirely whole and in working +order, and beyond danger of relapse.</p> + +<p>He sometimes wondered why the professor persisted in inviting him to +take dinner, or stay to tea, or sit on the balcony in the evening, or go +on a picnic into the woods. Why couldn't the old gentleman divine the +cause of his invariable and unhesitating refusals? Leaving other +considerations out of the question, would such things be likely to +increase his knowledge of theology, or further the lofty schemes of his +ambition? He would be glad when that daughter left the house! What was +it about her that had so disturbed and beclouded the heretofore +untroubled stream? Were other women like her, or was she alone in her +dangerous capacity? If the first, with what assurance could he look +forward to the intellectual mastery of the world! If the last, what a +refinement of misfortune to have been so thrown with her! What if he +should give up Professor Valeyon altogether? No, no! if he could not +conquer his destiny here, he could not be sure of doing it anywhere. Let +him only be self-controlled and prudent—keep carefully and +systematically out of the woman's way. Or perhaps—for it was not +gratifying or dignified thus to live in terror of a minister's +daughter—perhaps he might ultimately learn to associate and hold +intercourse with her, unharmed. That would be a triumph worth striving +for! Indeed, how could he feel secure until it had been won? Again, did +there at present exist any such risk as he had brought himself to +imagine? Was not this first ordeal, and its effects, all that was to be +apprehended? What if all his anxiety, and self-control, and prudence, +had been wasting themselves upon nothing? Would it not be worth while to +try the experiment? to prove whether he was still liable to this strange +witchery and enchantment? even if so it should turn out, it was still +well that the point should be settled once for all. Decided, then, that +he should take the first opportunity to put himself to the test.</p> + +<p>Thus did the young man argue around his instinct, ignorant that the +poison was at that moment circulating in his blood, and prompting the +very sophistries that his brain produced. He who is cured begets a +wholesome aversion toward what has harmed him; he feels no curiosity to +prove whether or no he be yet open to mischief from it. Bressant's +poison was in fact an elixir, whose delicious intoxication he had +experienced once, and which his whole nature secretly but urgently +craved to taste again.</p> + +<p>A result somewhat similar to this was doubtless what Professor Valeyon +aimed at in his plan of developing the emotional and affectional +elements of his pupil, albeit he was far from imagining what might be +the cost and risk to every thing which he himself held most dear. Like +many other men, of otherwise liberal mind and clear insight into +character, he had certain convictions and principles, derived from +contemplating the facts and results of his own life, which he believed +must produce upon other people's mental and moral constitutions as good +an effect as upon his own. And possibly, could we divest our regimen of +life of all personal flavor and conformation, it might, other things +being favorable, suit our friends very tolerably well. But, until we are +able to throw off the fetters of our own individuality, the measure of +our garments can never accurately fit anybody else.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the 1st of July, Bressant sat at his table, with his +books and papers about him. He was in an excellent humor, for he had +just arrived at the conclusion that he might, and would, safely +encounter his bugbear Cornelia. If the professor invited him to tea, and +to spend the evening, he was resolved to accept; and, at that moment, he +felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and, turning quickly round, +recognized the sombre figure of the boarding-house keeper.</p> + +<p>Although he had lived with her two weeks, he had not as yet had other +than the briefest communication with her. He probably thought ho had in +hand many matters of more importance than the cultivation of his +landlady's acquaintance; and she, whatever may have been her desire to +carry out the promise she had made to the professor, had not found it +possible to be other than indirectly observant of his welfare.</p> + +<p>"I knocked, Mr. Bressant, but I couldn't make you hear. I came to ask +you to do me a little favor, sir."</p> + +<p>Bressant had risen to his feet, and stood leaning against the back of +his chair. He nodded and smiled good-naturedly, his hand busy with his +beard, and his eyes taking in, with mild curiosity, the plain and +plainly-dressed woman before him. What favor could she expect him to do +for her? He'd just as lief agree to any thing that wouldn't interfere in +any way with his arrangements. Of course, she wouldn't ask any thing +more. As long as he paid his board-bill, and created no disturbance, +what obligations did he owe her?</p> + +<p>"You see, sir," proceeded Abbie, gently rattling the bunch of keys that +hung at her belt, "we've been in the habit of giving a party here, three +or four times a year, for the young folks to come and dance and enjoy +themselves. There will be one next Thursday, the 4th of July. Will you +come down, and join in?"</p> + +<p>Bressant threw back his head, with one of his brief laughs. "Come to a +dance? But I don't know how to dance! I never go into society. What +should I do? Thank you for asking me!"</p> + +<p>"I thought you might be interested to look on at one of our country +hops," said Abbie, whose eyes observed the young man's manner, as he +spoke, with a closeness that would have embarrassed most men. "There's a +good deal to amuse yourself with besides dancing. The school-master will +be there, and the minister that is now, and Professor Valeyon."</p> + +<p>"Professor Valeyon?" repeated Bressant, leaning forward, with his hand +to his ear, and the vivid, questioning expression on his face, which was +peculiar to himself.</p> + +<p>The movement appeared to produce a disproportionate effect upon Abbie. +Her finger tremblingly sought her under lip; a quiver, as if from a +sudden pain, passed across her forehead; there was a momentary +unsteadiness in her eyes, and then they fastened, almost rigidly, upon +the young man's face. So habitual was the woman's self-control, however, +that these symptoms, whatever they betokened, were repressed and +annulled, till none, save a particularly sharp-sighted person, would +have noticed them. Bressant was thinking only of Professor Valeyon, and +would scarcely have troubled himself, in any case, about the neuralgic +spasms of his landlady.</p> + +<p>"The professor and Miss Valeyon will both come," said Abbie, as soon as +the neuralgia, if that it were, would allow her to speak. "Excuse me, +sir—may I sit down a moment?" These words were uttered hurriedly, and, +at the same moment, the woman made a sudden step to the lounge, and +dropped down upon it so abruptly that the venerable springs creaked +again.</p> + +<p>"Beg your pardon, ma'am," said Bressant, rather awkwardly. "Must be an +infirm old person," he added to himself. "She looks older, even, than +when she came in!"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said she, with rather a constrained air, rising, from the +sofa in a way that confirmed the young man's opinion about her +infirmity; "well, sir, shall I expect you on Thursday evening?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I'll come," said he, with an elastic inclination of his shoulders, +and a smile. He thought himself fortunate in so good an opportunity to +put his invulnerability to the proof.</p> + +<p>Abbie bowed without speaking, and moved toward the door. Having opened +it, she turned round, with her hands upon the latch: "Professor Valeyon +tells me you're an orphan, sir?"</p> + +<p>"My father died last month; I never knew my mother," returned Bressant, +pushing his brown beard between his teeth, and biting it impatiently. He +wished people would get through asking him about his deceased relatives.</p> + +<p>"Never knew your mother! it must have been—have you never felt the need +of her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I was better without one," said he, quite provoked at his +landlady's pertinacity. He turned about, and threw himself into his +chair. The woman shrank back beyond the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, sir, and thank you," she said. But Bressant could not be +expected to hear the low, timid tone in which she spoke. Seeing that he +made no response, she softly closed the door.</p> + +<p>She went along the dark entry to her own room. On a little table in one +corner stood an old-fashioned desk. She opened it, and, unlocking an +inner drawer, took therefrom a small morocco case, lined with red +velvet, and containing a daguerreotype much faded by age. She studied it +long and earnestly, but seemingly without any very satisfactory result.</p> + +<p>"But how can I expect it?" murmured she. "So long ago as this was +taken! so sickly and unformed as he was then! But, oh! did they think I +could be blind to that face, and form, and expression! and there is none +other but he, now; the father is dead. Dead! Well, may God forgive him +all the evil of his life! I'm sure I do. But what will this turn out to +be, I wonder—a curse or a blessing? I must wait—it isn't for me to +speak; I must wait, and the end may be happy, after all."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT!</h3> + + +<p>On the evening of the 4th of July, Professor Valeyon and Cornelia got +into the wagon, and drove off, behind Dolly, to the boarding-house. It +was a warm, breathless night, and the stars looked brighter and more +numerous than usual.</p> + +<p>The boarding-house was one of the largest buildings in town—an +accidental sort of structure, painted white, green-blinded, and +protected, from the two roads at whose intersection it stood, by a +white-washed board-fence, deficient in several places. The house +expanded into no less than four large bay-windows, affording an outlook +to three small rooms upon the ground-floor. The four or five other +larger apartments were forced to pass a gloomy existence behind a +loop-hole or two apiece, which could not have measured over three feet +in any direction.</p> + +<p>The two largest rooms lay corner to corner, at right angles to one +another, and communicating by a passage-way through their point of +contact. Who the original genius was who discovered the admirable +facilities this else preposterous arrangement afforded for dances will +remain forever unknown; but the experiment once tried became an +institution as permanent as Abbie herself.</p> + +<p>The small triangle of space between the two rooms, which to utilize had +theretofore been an unsolved problem, served admirably as a station for +the band; they could be heard in either apartment equally well. The +small boudoirs, nooks, and corners, which were scattered here and there +with lavish hand, did excellent duty as flirtation-boxes for those of +the dancers who needed that refreshment; the only drawback being that +one was never quite sure of privacy, on account of the complicated +system of doors and entries that prevailed.</p> + +<p>But, in spite of all objections, a dance at Abbie's was the rallying-cry +of the community. All the respectable people in town put on their newest +clothes—and if they were new it did not so much matter what the style +might be—and thronged, on foot or in wagon, to the boarding-house door. +They came to have a good time, and they always succeeded in their +object. What pigeon-wings were performed! what polkas perpetrated! what +waltzes wrecked! How the long lines of the Virginia Reel, or "On the +Road to Boston," extended through the hall from end to end, and how the +couples twisted, whirled, and scooted between them! How the call-man, +with his violin under his chin, stopped playing to vociferate his +orders, or anathematize some bewildered pair! How the old folks, sitting +on chairs and benches along the walls, nodded and smiled and mumbled to +one another as the ruddy faces of their descendants passed and repassed +before them, and spoke to one another of like scenes thirty, or forty, +or fifty years ago! How happy everybody was, and what a jolly noise they +made!</p> + +<p>As Cornelia and her papa approached the house, every window was alight, +above and below. The door was thrown hospitably open, and the lamplight +streamed forth and ran down the steps, and lay in a long rectangular +pool upon the road. Abbie stood near the entrance, directing the ladies +one way and the gentlemen another. Punctuality at an affair of this kind +being among the village virtues, the whole company was present within a +surprisingly short time of the appointed hour.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Professor Valeyon; good-evening, my dear; how well-you +look! Step up-stairs—the first room on the right."</p> + +<p>"My pupil is to be here to-night, isn't he?" inquired the professor, as +his daughter vanished.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he said he'd be down. He doesn't seem to be used to society. Miss +Cornelia told me she thought it would do him good to begin, so I went up +the other day and asked him."</p> + +<p>"Oh! humph!" said the old gentleman, who had vainly endeavored to catch +Abbie's eye while she was speaking. He stood silent a few moments, and +then moved off to the gentlemen's dressing-room, taking a pair of +white-kid gloves from his pocket as he went.</p> + +<p>Cornelia, having removed her hood, put on her slippers, shaken out her +skirt, touched her hair with the tips of her gloved fingers, and settled +the ribbon at her throat, descended to the reception-room—as that part +of the entrance-hall where Abbie stood was styled—and found her papa +awaiting her. She was about to take his arm, when the hostess touched +her on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment," said she, with a peculiar grave smile; "I'll bring you +your <i>protégé</i>."</p> + +<p>Bressant was standing in the door-way of an inner room, leaning with the +elbow of one arm in the hand of the other, as he pulled at his mustache +and twisted the beard on his chin. He looked ill at ease, and as if he +rather regretted his intrepidity in coming down. Had he been what is +called a student of human nature, he might have been interested in the +quaint people and customs which an occasion like this would bring to +light. But he believed that all the traits and elements of mankind at +large were comprised, in a superior form, within himself, and that, +knowing himself, he would virtually know the world. This somewhat +exclusive creed had, doubtless, been aided and abetted by his deafness, +which, even had he been otherwise inclined by nature, must have thrown +him back, in great measure, upon himself; or, possibly, the dogma may +have been but an outgrowth of the physical defect: he fights hard and +well, in this world, who counteracts the bias given by bodily infirmity. +In any case, however, since such was the position of his mind, he could +scarcely be expected to derive much entertainment from a social occasion +like the present. It is even uncertain whether he would not actually +have repented and taken to flight, had not Abbie come up at the critical +moment, and carried him off to Cornelia.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to have the pleasure of presenting Mr. Bressant to you +myself," said she, with the same peculiar smile; and so left them +together.</p> + +<p>The young man stood confronting the young woman, who, besides being +dressed with great taste, looked, owing to the whimsical circumstances +in which she was placed, every bit of beauty she had. Bressant stared +at her in astonishment.</p> + +<p>One woman's beauty cannot be contrasted with another's; as well compare +a summer valley with the white clouds sailing over it; each is to be +enjoyed in its own way. But Cornelia's loveliness carried with it a +peculiar quality, which not only gratified the eye, but went further, +and seemed to touch a vital chord in the beholder, jarring throughout +his being with a sweet distribution of effect, and causing heart and +voice to vibrate. It made Bressant conscious in every fibre that he was +man and she woman. Whence came the influence he could not tell, and +meanwhile it gained ever stronger and deeper hold upon him. Was it from +the eyes, a-sparkle with the essence of youth and health? or from the +mouth, with its red warmth of full yet delicate curves? the gates of +what sweetness of breath! or from the crisp, dark, lustreless luxuriance +of the hair? or from the curved shadows melting on the cheeks, and +nestling beneath the chin? He could trace it to no single one of these +various elements—yet how lovely all were! Whence, then, was it? In a +bottle of wine there are many drops, alike in color, shape, flavor, and +sparkle; in which one, of all, lurks the intoxication? The only way to +make sure of the drop is to drink the bottle; and, even then, though +there will be no doubt about the intoxication, its precise origin may +still be disputed.</p> + +<p>As Bressant bowed to Cornelia, who courtesied grandly in return, the +band struck up a waltz, which seemed to be at once reflected in her face +and manner. She was particularly sensitive to musical impressions, and +instinctively looked up to Bressant's face for sympathy, forgetting at +the moment that his infirmity would probably debar him from sharing her +enjoyment. However that might be, he was certainly not indifferent to +the silent music of her beauty; he was gazing down upon her with an +intensity which caused her to droop her eyes, and draw an uneven breath +or two. There was in him all a man's fire, strangely mingled with the +freshness of a boy.</p> + +<p>"Take my arm," said he, offering it to her. After an instant's +hesitation, more mental, however, than physical, she laid her graceful +hand within it, and they moved toward the dancing-room.</p> + +<p>But at the instant of contact an electric pulsation seemed to pass +through Cornelia's blood, imbuing it with a powerful ichor, alien to +herself, yet whose potency was delicious to her. She fancied, also, that +she herself went out in the same way to her companion, establishing a +magnetic interchange of personalities, so that each felt and shared the +other's thoughts and emotions.</p> + +<p>They now stood in the principal dancing-hall, where several couples, who +had already taken the floor, were revolving with various degrees of +awkwardness. The music had flowed into Cornelia's ears until she was +full of the rhythmical harmony. She glanced up once more at her partner, +this time with a lustrous look of confidence. Was it possible that he +had become inspired through her? Certainly it seemed as if the feeling +of the tune were discernible in his face as well as hers; it was even +betokened by the lightsome pose of his figure, and a scarcely subdued +buoyancy in his step. Moment by moment did the occult sympathy between +one another and the cadence of the music grow more assured and complete; +and at length—though precisely how it came about neither Cornelia nor +Bressant could have told—they were conscious of floating through the +room, mutually supporting and leading on each other, mind and motion +pulsating with the beat of the tune, amid a bright, half-seen chaos of +lights, faces, and forms, dancing a waltz!</p> + +<p>Neither felt any surprise at what, but a few moments before, both would +have deemed an impossibility. The easy, whirling sweep of the motion, +not ending nor beginning, seemed, to Bressant as well as to Cornelia, +the most natural thing in the world. Beautifully as she danced, he was +no whit her inferior. They moved in complete accord. Years of practice +could not have made the harmony more perfect.</p> + +<p>The charm of dancing, although nothing is easier than to experience it, +is something that eludes statement. It is the language of the body, +graceful and significant. It has that in it which will make it live and +be loved so long as men and women exist as such. The fascination of the +motion, the magic of the music, the hour, the lights; the nearness, the +touch of hands, the leaning, the support, the starting off in fresh +bewilderments; the trilling down the gamut of the hall; the pauses and +recommencements; even the little incidents of collision and escape; the +trips, slips, and quick recoveries; the breathless words whispered in +the ear, and the laughter; the dropped handkerchief, the crushed fan, +the faithless hair-pin—these, and a thousand more such small elements, +make dancing imperishable.</p> + +<p>Presently—and it might have been after a minute or an hour, for all +they could have told—Bressant and Cornelia awoke to a sense of four +bare walls, papered with a pattern of abominable regularity, a floor of +rough and unwaxed boards, a panting crowd of country girls and bumpkins. +The music had ceased, and nothing remained in its place save a fiddle, a +harp, and an inferior piano.</p> + +<p>"Come out to the door!" said Bressant, "the air here is not fit for us +to breathe."</p> + +<p>They went, Cornelia leaning on his arm, silent; their minds inactive, +conscious only of a pleasant, dreamy feeling of magnetic communion. Both +felt impelled to keep together—to be in contact; the mere thought of +separation would have made them shudder.</p> + +<p>The door stood open, and they emerged through it on to the wooden steps. +At first their eyes, dazzled by the noisy glare of the house, could +distinguish nothing in the silent darkness without. But, by-and-by, a +singular gentle radiance began to diffuse itself through the soft night +air, as if a new moon had all at once arisen. They looked first at each +other, and then upward at the sky. Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, +and caught her breath.</p> + +<p>From the north had uprisen a column of light, of about the apparent +breadth of the Milky Way, but far more brilliant, and defined clearly at +the edges. Higher and higher it rose, until it reached the zenith. +Pausing a moment there, it then began to slide and lengthen down the +southern slope of the sky, lower and lower, till its extreme limit +seemed to mingle with the haze on the horizon. Having thus completed its +stupendous sweep, it remained, brightening and paling by turns, for +several minutes. Finally, it slowly and imperceptibly faded away, +vanishing first at the loftiest point of all, and lingering downward on +either side, till all was gone.</p> + +<p>"What a glorious arch!" exclaimed Cornelia.</p> + +<p>"It was put there for us, was it not?" rejoined Bressant.</p> + +<p>Some of the other guests had come out in time to see the latter part of +this spectacle, as it trembled athwart the heavens. They "Oh'd" and +"Ah'd" in vast astonishment and admiration; and one of them humorously +asserted that it had been engaged, at a huge expense, to celebrate the +anniversary of American Independence. So the celestial arch vanished in +the echo of a horse-laugh. But Bressant and Cornelia, as they stood +silently arm-in-arm, felt as if it were rather the presage of an +emancipation of their own selves. From, or to what, they did not ask; +nor did the old superstition, that such signs foretell ruin and +disaster, recur to their minds until long afterward.</p> + +<p>Dancing was now recommenced, but, by an unuttered agreement, the two +refrained from participating again. The enjoyment had been too entire to +risk a repetition. They sat down in one of the small boudoirs, which, +through a demoralized corridor, commanded a view of the extremity of one +of the dancing-rooms.</p> + +<p>From this vantage-ground they could see the distinctive features of the +assembly pass before their eyes. Girls who danced well striving to look +graceful in the arms of men who danced ill, or floundering women +bringing disgrace and misery upon embracing men. Dancers of the old +school, whose forte lay in quadrilles and contra-dances, cutting strange +capers, with faces of earnest gravity. People smiling whenever spoken +to, and without hearing what was said; and on-lookers smiling, by a sort +of photographic process, at fun in which they had no concern. +Introductions, where the lady was self-possessed and bewitching, the +gentleman monosyllabic and poker-like; others, where he was off-hand, +ogling, and facetious; she, timid, credulous, and blushing. All kinds of +costumes, from the solitary dress-coat, and low-necked ball-dress, worn +respectively by Mr. and Mrs. Van Brueck from Albany, to the mixed tweed +sack and trousers, and the checked gingham, adorning the Browne boy and +girl.</p> + +<p>"How foolish it all seems when you're not doing it yourself!" remarked +Cornelia at last, laughing softly.</p> + +<p>"But very wise when you are."</p> + +<p>"How beautifully you danced! I didn't know you could."</p> + +<p>"I never did before—I couldn't, with any one but you. As soon as we +touched each other, I felt every thing through you."</p> + +<p>"It was very strange, wasn't it? and yet I don't wonder at it, somehow."</p> + +<p>"It would have been stranger not to have been so."</p> + +<p>"Why, how have you been hearing what I said?" suddenly exclaimed +Cornelia, looking at him in surprise; "I've been almost whispering all +this time!"</p> + +<p>"Have you? It sounded loud enough to me. But I could hear you think +to-night, I believe. Will it be so to-morrow, do you suppose?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!" repeated Cornelia. "Dear me! to-morrow is my last day +here."</p> + +<p>"The last day!" echoed Bressant, in a tone of dismay. "Shall we find one +another the same as to-night when you come back?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" responded she, with a resumption of cheerfulness. "I sha'n't +be gone but three months."</p> + +<p>So the conversation lingered along, until gradually the greater part of +it was supported by Bressant, while Cornelia sat quiet and listened—a +thing she had never done before. But the young man's way of expressing +himself was picturesque and piquant, keeping the attention thoroughly +awake. His ideas and topics were original. He plunged into the midst of +a subject and talked backward and forward at the same time, yet conveyed +a marvelously clear idea of his meaning. Sometimes the last word was the +key-note that rendered the whole intelligible. And he had the bearing of +a man all unaccustomed to deal with women—ignorant of the traditional +arts of entertainment which society practises upon itself. He talked to +Cornelia as he might have done to a man, and yet his manner showed a +subtle difference—a lack of assurance—a treading in a pleasant garden +with fear of trespassing—the recognition of the woman. To Cornelia it +had the effect of the most soothing and delicious flattery; had he been +as worldly-wise as other men, he could not have been so delicate.</p> + +<p>He, for his part, gave himself wholly up to be fascinated and absorbed +by the lovely woman at his side. Did a thought of danger intrude, the +whisper, "Only for to-night, only for to-night!" sufficed to banish it. +Yet another day, and he would return to the old life once more.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>EVERY LITTLE COUNTS.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. William Reynolds arrived late, perhaps because he delayed too long +over the niceties of his toilet. He was a country young man, fashioned +upon a well-worn last. His occupation for several years past had been to +attend to the furnishing and driving of a milk-cart, and, very likely, +it was this which had hindered the proper development of his figure. At +all events, he was stoutest where it is generally thought advisable to +be lean, and narrow where popular prejudice demands breadth. His knees +were more conspicuous than his legs, and his elbows than his arms. His +face was striking, chiefly because an accident in early life had +prostrated his nose; the expression, though lacking force, was in the +main good-natured, the eyes were modestly veiled behind a pair of +eye-glasses, which stayed on, as it were, by accident.</p> + +<p>Mr. Reynolds was an admirer of Cornelia's; a fact which was the occasion +of much pleasant remark and easy witticism. More serious consequences +were not likely to ensue, for such men as he seldom attain to be other +than indirectly useful or mildly obnoxious to their fellow-creatures. +But the strongest instincts he had were social; and it was touching to +observe the earnestness with which they urged him to lumber the path of +fashion and gay life. He nearly broke his own heart, and unseated his +instructor's reason, in his efforts to learn dancing; and, to secure +elegant apparel for Sundays and parties, he would forswear the butcher's +wagon for months at a time. Once in a while he would smoke an Havana +cigar from the assortment to be found at the grocery-store on the +corner, and sometimes, when a national holiday or the gloom of +unrequited love rendered strong measures a necessity, he would become +recklessly convivial over muddy whisky-and-water amid the spittoons and +colored prints of the hotel bar-room.</p> + +<p>On the present evening he arrived late, and came upon Cornelia and +Bressant just as the latter was proposing to obtain the professor's +consent to accompanying her home on foot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Reynolds advanced, smiling; a polka was being played at the moment, +and he playfully contorted his figure and balanced his head from side to +side in time with the tune, while with his right forefinger he beckoned +winningly to Miss Valeyon to join him in the dance. Bressant gave an +involuntary shudder of disgust; it seemed to him a grisly caricature of +the inspiration he himself had felt at the beginning of the evening. But +Cornelia was equal to the emergency.</p> + +<p>"If you'll go and ask papa now," said she, "I'll take care of this +person meantime. He's known me so long, I don't want to be impolite to +him."</p> + +<p>A good deal of harm may be done in this world by what is called a +reluctance to be uncivil. There is generally more selfishness than +consideration about it. All sincere admiration, no matter from how low a +source, is grateful to us. Cornelia knew that Bill Reynolds worshipped +her with his whole small capacity, and she was unwilling to deny herself +the miserable little incense, and give him plainly to understand that, +though it was not distasteful to her, he was. And who could blame her +for not wanting to hurt his feelings?</p> + +<p>Bressant had no such delicate scruples, and would gladly have assisted +poor Bill through the open bow-window. He departed on his errand, +however, with nothing more than a look of intense dissatisfaction, which +was entirely lost upon the infatuated Reynolds.</p> + +<p>"How lovely you do look to-night, Miss Valeyon! I almost think sometimes +it ain't fair anybody should look as lovely as you do. Elegant music +they've got to-night, ain't it? Come, now—just one turn. What?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia actually had danced with this young gentleman on one or two +memorable occasions in the past, but was scarcely in the mood to do so +this evening. As she looked at him, now, she wondered how she ever had. +What a difference there is in men I and even more in the way we regard +them at different times. Bressant, simply by being himself, had +annihilated all such small claims to social life as Bill Reynolds ever +possessed.</p> + +<p>"I'm not dancing to-night, thank you," said Cornelia; but she smiled so +as wellnigh to heal the wound her words inflicted. "What makes you so +late?"</p> + +<p>Now, the fact was that Mr. Reynolds had been weak enough to allow +himself to be drawn into conversation with some friends near the +entrance of the hotel possessing the bar-room with the spittoons and +colored prints already alluded to; and, being the Fourth of July, which, +like many other days, comes but once a year, and a "dry night," as his +friends assured him, he had further given evidence of lack of stamina by +accepting an invitation to "take a damp," When he had finally succeeded +in making his escape, he was conscious that it was in a tolerably damp +condition; and it had occurred to him, as a brilliant idea, to put his +head beneath the pump by way of freshening up his wits. The effect had +been, for the moment, undoubtedly clarifying, and he made his entrance +into Abbie's with a great deal of confidence; more, perhaps, than was +entirely warrantable; for the muddy whisky was still circulating in his +blood, and the light, the close, hot air, and the excitement +within-doors, were rapidly undoing the good work which the pump had +accomplished. It was probably a dim suspicion that such was the case, +which made him hesitate, and stick his hands in his pockets, and screw +his boot-heel into the floor, when Cornelia asked him why he was so +late. But the question had been asked in pure idleness, and not with any +interest or purpose to elicit a reply. The next minute she relieved him +from his embarrassment by speaking again.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind doing me a favor, Bill?"</p> + +<p>It seemed to Bill that, for the sake of hearing his Christian name from +her lips, he would be willing to forswear all else that made life most +dear—Havana cigars and muddy whisky included; and he was proceeding +with impressive gravity to make a statement to that effect, when +Cornelia once more interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I was sure you would. You're always so kind! You see I'm +obliged to go home now, but papa will want to stay to supper, probably, +or to play backgammon, and, of course, I shall leave him the wagon. +Now, I want you to promise to see that Dolly is properly harnessed +before he starts—will you? You know that man they have here isn't +always quite sober, especially when it's Fourth of July, or any thing of +that sort; and papa is getting old."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Valeyon. I'll attend to it. I'll fix the old gentleman up, +like he was my own father. And you're just right about that fellow +that's around here; <i>I</i> wouldn't trust him. Why—" Bill was on the point +of mentioning that he had made one of the convivial party that evening, +but checked himself in time, and looked particularly profound.</p> + +<p>Cornelia had probably had more than one motive in making her request of +Bill Reynolds. She wanted to avoid being urged to dance, by keeping his +mind otherwise employed; she enjoyed the amusement of making him imagine +that he was of some consequence and importance to her; and, lastly, she +was very willing that all this should concur with some possible benefit +to her father. Of Bill's irresponsible condition she had of course no +suspicion; indeed, he might have been far worse, with impunity, as far +as she was concerned. It takes considerable practice to detect the +effects of liquor, except when very excessive; and Cornelia had no such +training.</p> + +<p>"And," added she, as she saw Bressant making his way toward her, with +unmistakable signs on his face of having been successful in his errand, +"and suppose you go now, and find out when papa leaves, so as to be sure +to be on hand."</p> + +<p>It was very neatly managed, on the whole; and Cornelia, as she put on +her shoes, and drew the hood around her face, congratulated herself on +her tact and readiness. Yet she felt a little uneasiness, assignable to +no particular cause, and upon no definite subject; it may have been +nothing more than some slight qualms of conscience at having so deluded +her unfortunate admirer. As she came down from the ladies' +dressing-room, she felt a strong impulse to go and kiss her papa +good-by; but reflecting that Bill would probably be with him, and that +she would see him at any rate before she went to bed, she thought better +of it; and, taking Bressant's arm—he was waiting her at the foot of the +stairs—she signified her readiness to start.</p> + +<p>"When did papa say he was coming?" asked she, as they moved through the +passage-way to the door.</p> + +<p>"He was playing backgammon; he said he should be through in ten minutes; +he would probably overtake us before we got to the Parsonage," replied +the young man.</p> + +<p>"I hope he'll be all safe!" said Cornelia, half to herself, the vague +feeling of uneasiness still working within her.</p> + +<p>At the door they were met by Abbie, who bade them good-night, with the +same expression upon her lips and in her eyes that she had worn when +presenting them to one another early in the evening.</p> + +<p>"Take good care of each other, my children," said she, as they passed +out; but her tone was so low as to be audible to Cornelia alone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART.</h3> + + +<p>The faintest of breezes wafted in the young people's faces as they +descended the wooden steps of the boarding-house and passed along the +dark, deserted sidewalk of the village street. The noisy dance was soon +left at a distance; how extravagant and unnatural it seemed in +comparison with the deep, sweet night in which they were losing +themselves!</p> + +<p>The brightness of the stars, and the wavering peaks and jagged edges of +the northern lights, brought out the shadows of the uneven hills, and +revealed the winding length of downy mist which kept the stream in the +valley warm. Such was the stillness, and the subdued tone of the +landscape, that it seemed unreal—the phantom of a world which had lost +its sunshine, and was mourning for it in gentle melancholy.</p> + +<p>The sense of the solitude around them brought the young man and woman +closer to one another. For enjoyment to be, mortally speaking, perfect, +it needs that a soft and dreamy element of sadness should be added to +it; and this was given by the gracious influence of the night. The +darkness, too, encouraged the germs of that mutual reliance, +hopefulness, and trust, which combine to build up the more vital and +profound relations of life. There is a magic mystery and power in it, +which we can laugh at in the sunshine, but whose reality, at times, +forces itself upon us mightily.</p> + +<p>As Bressant trod onward, with the warm and lovely woman living and +moving at his side, and clinging to his arm with a dainty pressure, just +perceptible enough to make him wish it were a little closer—it entered +his mind to marvel at the tender change that seemed to have come over +familiar things.</p> + +<p>"I've walked often in the night, before," observed he, looking around +him, and then at Cornelia; "on the same road, too; but it never made me +feel as now. It is beautiful." He used the word with a doubtful +intonation, as if unaccustomed to it, and not quite sure whether he were +applying it correctly.</p> + +<p>"You speak as if you didn't know what you were talking about!" said +Cornelia, with a round, melodious laugh. "Did you never see or care for +any thing beautiful before this evening?"</p> + +<p>"You remember that night in the garden?" asked Bressant, abruptly. "I've +learned a great deal since then. I couldn't understand it at the moment; +I wasn't prepared for it—understand? but I know now—it was beauty—I +saw it and felt it—and it drove me out of myself."</p> + +<p>Cornelia was thrilled, half with fear and half with delight. Bressant +spoke with an almost fierce sincerity and earnestness of conviction, +that quite overbore the shield of playful incredulity which woman +instinctively raises on such occasions; they seemed to have crossed, at +one step, the pale of conventionalities; and, sweet and alluring as the +outer wilderness may be, it is wilderness still, and full of sudden +precipices. Besides, the very energy and impetuosity which the young man +showed, suggested the apprehension that the power of his newly-awakened +emotions was greater than his ability to control and manage them.</p> + +<p>But beauty, as he understood it, was something of deeper and wider +significance than that generally accepted. It was all, in mankind and +nature, that appeals to and gratifies the senses and sensuous emotions. +Cornelia had been the door through which he had passed into a +consciousness of its existence; the fragrant pass leading to the mighty +valley. Unfortunately neither he nor she was in a position to comprehend +this fact: she was no metaphysical casuist, and never imagined but that +he would find the end, as well as the beginning of his newly-opened +world in her; and he, dizzied by the tumult and novelty of the vision, +was naturally disposed to attribute most value and importance to the +only element in it of which he had as yet taken any real and definite +cognizance.</p> + +<p>"What a strange, one-sided life you must have had!" Cornelia remarked, +after they had walked a little way in silence. "Don't you think you'll +be happier for having found the other side out?"</p> + +<p>Bressant started, and did not immediately reply. Thus far he had looked +upon this unexpected enlargement of feeling as merely a temporary +episode, after all; not any thing permanently to affect the +predetermined course and conduct of his life. The idea that it was to +round out and perfect his existence—that he was to find his highest +happiness in it—had never for a moment occurred to him. He did not +believe it possible that it could coexist with lofty aims and strenuous +effort; it was a weakness—a delicious one—but still a weakness, and +ultimately to be trampled under foot.</p> + +<p>But Cornelia had taken the ground that it was the half of life—not only +that, but the better and more desirable half. For the first time it +dawned upon the young man, that he might be obliged to decide between +following out the high and ascetic ambition which had guided his life +thus far, and abandoning, or at least lowering it, to take in that other +part of which Cornelia was the incarnation. The prospect drove the blood +to his heart and left him pale. He would not entertain it yet. Had he +not promised himself to let this one night go by?</p> + +<p>"It would be a very sweet happiness, if I were sure of finding it," said +he; and Cornelia, turning this answer over in her foolish heart, made a +great deal out of it, and was thankful for the darkness that veiled her +face. But Bressant was hardly far advanced enough in the art of +affection to make a graceful use of double meanings; and most likely +Cornelia might have spared herself the blush.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the young man was more deeply involved than he suspected. +That magnetic sympathy could not otherwise have existed between him and +his companion. The music could not have sounded through her sense to +his, nor her whisper have penetrated the barrier of his infirmity, +unless something akin to love had been the interpreter and guide; and +not a one-sided something, either.</p> + +<p>On they walked, with the feeling of intimacy and mutual contentment +growing stronger at every moment. The ground was full of ruts and +inequalities, and ever and anon a misstep or an overbalance would cause +them involuntarily to tighten their hold upon each other; +involuntarily, but with a secret sensation of pleasure that made them +hope there were more rough places farther on. They did their best to +keep up a desultory conversation, perhaps, because they wished to spare +each other the embarrassment which silence would have caused, in leaving +the pleasant condition of affairs without a veil. When this kind of +thing first begins to be realized between young people, the enjoyment +takes on a more delicate flavor from a pretended ignoring of it.</p> + +<p>It is beautiful to imagine them thus placed in a situation to which both +were strangers, knowing not what new delight the next moment might bring +forth. There was an element of childlikeness and innocence about it, the +more pleasing to behold in proportion as they were elevated in mind or +organization above the average of mankind.</p> + +<p>A woman who loves thinks first of the man who has her heart; while he, +as a general rule, is primarily concerned with himself. If Bressant +wished Cornelia to be happy and loving, it was in order that he himself +might thereby be incited to greater love and happiness; but, had her +pleasure been, independent of his own, he would not have troubled +himself about it. To her, on the other hand, Bressant's well-being would +have been paramount to her own, and to be preserved, if need were, at +its sacrifice.</p> + +<p>Even a perception, on her part, of this selfishness in him, would not +have alienated her. Selfishness in him she loves does not chill, but +augments, a woman's affection. Cornelia, already inclined to allow her +companion every thing, would have seen nothing unbecoming in his being +of the same mind himself. He could scarcely value himself so high as +she.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Professor Valeyon, having won his game of backgammon, hunted +up his hat, made his adieux, and went to the shed for his wagon. He +perceived a figure apparently busy in buckling Dolly between the shafts, +and, supposing it to be the ostler, called to him to know whether every +thing was ready.</p> + +<p>"All serene, Profess'r Valeyon," responded the voice of Mr. Reynolds, as +he led Dolly—who seemed rather restive—out into the yard. "Here you +are, all fixed! I done it for you, in style. Jump in, and I'll give you +the reins."</p> + +<p>"Is this the reason you were asking me what time I should start, Bill?" +inquired the old gentleman, as he mounted to his seat. "Very kind of +you: sure she's all right?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I ought to know something about harnessing a mare by this time, I +guess!" responded Bill, with a good deal of dignity, as he handed up the +reins. "Well, well I no doubt—no doubt! I'm accustomed to oversee it +myself, that's all.—Steady, Dolly! Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Profess'r Valeyon," said Bill, who, in harnessing the mare +had managed, with intoxicated ingenuity, so to twist one of the buckles +of the head-gear, that every time the reins were tightened, the sharp +tongue was driven in under her jaw-bone. The wagon rattled off at an +unusual speed; there was no need for a whip, and the professor +congratulated himself upon the fine condition of his steed.</p> + +<p>"Hasn't shown such speed for years," muttered he, admiringly. "If I'd +only been a horse-jockey, now, I could have made a fortune out of her! +Points all superb—only wants a little training."</p> + +<p>They had now descended the hill on which stood the village, and were +flying along the level stretch between the willow-trees. The wheels +crunched swiftly and smoothly along the ruts, or, striking sharply +against a stone, made the old wagon bounce and creak. Dolly was putting +her best foot foremost, and her ears were laid back close to her head: +though that, by reason of the darkness, Professor Valeyon could not see. +He and Dolly had travelled this road in company so often, however, and +every turn and dip was so well known to him, that it never would have +occurred to him to feel any anxiety. Beyond keeping a firm hold of the +reins, he let the mare have her own way.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the willow stretch was passed, and they began to +stretch with vigorous swing up the slope. Dolly's haunches were visible, +working below in the darkness, and occasionally a spark of fire was +struck from the rock by her hoof. Really she was doing well to-night. As +they topped the brow of the slope, the professor tightened the reins a +little. It wouldn't do to let the old mare overwork herself. But, +instead of slackening her pace, she sprang forward more swiftly than +ever.</p> + +<p>"That's odd!" murmured the old gentleman. "Can any thing be the matter, +I wonder?" and he gave another steady pull on the reins. The wagon was +jerked forward with such a wrench as almost to throw him backward. There +was no doubt that something was the matter, now.</p> + +<p>By this time they were within a quarter of a mile of the Parsonage, and +rapidly approaching the sharp bend around the rocky spur of the hill. +Dolly's skimming hind-legs spurned the road faster and faster, and the +fences flickered by in a terrible hurry. They whisked around the curve +with a sharp, grating sound of the wheels on the rock, and the Parsonage +lay but a short distance ahead. Suddenly a white object seemed to rise +out of the road not more than a hundred yards in advance. Dolly, with +the bit caught vigorously between her teeth, stretched her neck and head +out and ran. Professor Valeyon, bracing himself with his feet against +the dash-board, leaned back with his whole weight and sawed the reins +right and left. When within a few yards of the white object—which +seemed to have fluttered back to one side of the road—his right rein +broke: he lost his balance and fell over backward into the bottom of the +waggon, while Dolly, quite unrestrained, dashed on madly.</p> + +<p>The professor had just made up his mind that he stood very little chance +of seeing Abbie or his daughters again, when he felt the onward rush +suddenly modified. There were a pawing and snorting, an irregular jerk +or two, and then a dead stop. The old gentleman picked himself up and +descended to the ground uninjured beyond a few slight bruises.</p> + +<p>Cornelia and Bressant had been pacing the latter part of their way +slowly, there being a disinclination on both their parts to come to the +end of it. But they had passed the bend, and were within a few rods of +the Parsonage, before Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, paused, +listened, and said:</p> + +<p>"I think I hear him coming: yes! that's Dolly—but how fast she's +going!"</p> + +<p>As they stood, arm-in-arm, Bressant was between Cornelia and the +approaching vehicle: but, when it swung around the corner, she stepped +forward, thus bringing her white dress suddenly into view. At the same +moment the velocity of the wagon was much increased, and, as it came +upon them, both saw the figure on the seat, easily recognizable as the +professor, fall over backward. Bressant, who had been busy freeing the +guard of his watch, handed it to Cornelia, at the same time pressing her +back to one side. He then stepped forward in silence, half facing up the +road.</p> + +<p>Cornelia remained motionless, her hands drawn up beneath her chin: and +while she drew a single trembling breath, and the busy watch ticked away +five seconds, the whole act passed before her eyes. She saw Bressant +standing, lightly erect, near the centre of the road, could discern his +darkly-clad, well-knit figure, seemingly gigantic in the gloom: his head +turned toward the on-rushing mare, one foot a little advanced, his arms +partly raised, and bent: remarked what a marvelous mingling of grace and +power was in his form and bearing: as the watch ticked again, she saw +him spring forward and upward, grasping and dragging down both reins in +his hands: another tick—he was dashed against Dolly's shoulder, and his +body swung around along the shaft, but without loosening his hold upon +the reins: tick, tick, tick, the mare's headway was slackened; the +dragging at the bit of that great weight was more than she could carry; +tick, tick, tick, she staggered on a few paces, trailing Bressant along +the road; tick, tick, she came to a panting, trembling stand-still; +Bressant let go the reins, but, instead of rising to his feet, he +dropped loosely to the earth and lay there; tick—the five seconds were +up, and Cornelia drew her second breath.</p> + +<p>By the time the professor had scrambled out of the wagon and got around +to the scene of action, he found the mysterious white figure—his own +daughter—kneeling in the road beside a prostrate something he knew must +be Bressant.</p> + +<p>"Father, is he dead?" she asked, in a broken, horror-stricken voice.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman was too much concerned to reply. Had this been a +narrower nature he might have been aggrieved at Cornelia's ignoring his +own late deadly peril in her anxiety for the young man. But he would +have done her wrong; her heart had stood still for him till she had seen +his safety assured; then it had gone out in gratitude, admiration, and +tender solicitude, for the man who had shown unfaltering and desperate +determination in saving him.</p> + +<p>Having backed Dolly—who was standing, quite subdued, with hanging head +and heaving sides—away from the body, Professor Valeyon stooped down to +make an examination. He had begun life as a surgeon, and was well +skilled in the science. He cautiously unbuttoned the closely-fitting +coat.</p> + +<p>"Stop! let me alone! let me alone!—will you?" growled Bressant, +speaking thickly and disjointedly, like one just recovering from a +fainting-fit, but with unmistakable signs of ill-temper.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! you're alive, my boy," said the professor, too much relieved +to notice the tone. "Cornelia, my dear, run to the house, and get +Michael and the wheelbarrow.—Any bones broken, do you think?" he +continued, carefully pursuing his investigations the while.</p> + +<p>"No, nothing! can't you let me lie here alone?" was the sulky reply. +But, as the other's hand happened to press lightly in the vicinity of +the chest, Bressant drew a quick, gasping breath, and could not control +a spasm of pain.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch there—it's where the shaft struck me," said he, in a voice +that was no more than a whisper, but as sullen as if he had been the +victim of some unpardonable wrong. There was a trace of mortification in +it, too, such as might have been caused by detection in a disgraceful +act.</p> + +<p>"Never saw any thing like this in him, before," said the professor to +himself. "Badly injured, too, I'm afraid: collar-bone broken, at any +rate. Ah! there's the wheelbarrow, and Neelie with some cushions. Now, +Michael, take hold of him carefully, and help me lift him in." But +Bressant, as he felt the first touch, opened wide his half-closed eyes, +and looked around savagely.</p> + +<p>"Keep your hands off me," whispered he, in a menacing tone; "if I must +go into the house, I'll walk in myself."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! you're crazy! 'walk in?'" cried the professor.</p> + +<p>Bressant said no more, but, with an effort that forced a groan, he +rolled over on his face, and thence raised himself to a kneeling +posture. He paused so a moment, and then, by another spasmodic +movement, succeeded in gaining his feet. He had been twice kicked in his +right leg, and the pain was wellnigh insupportable. He stood balancing +himself unsteadily.</p> + +<p>"Let me help you," said Cornelia, coming to his side. But he took no +notice of her, not even turning his eyes upon her. He staggered blindly +along the road to the gate; it gave way before him with a reluctant +rattle, and closed with an ill-tempered clap as he passed through. +Swaying from side to side of the marble walk, he at last reached the +porch. In trying to ascend the steps, he stumbled, and pitched forward +in a heavy fall.</p> + +<p>"There!—confound his obstinacy! he's fainted," muttered the professor, +with an awful frown, while the tears ran down his cheeks. "Here, +Michael, help me carry him in before he comes to."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>A KEEPSAKE.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant's collar-bone was broken; there were two severe bruises on his +leg, though it had escaped fracture; his body in several places was +marked with dark contusions, and there was a cut in the back of his +head, where he had fallen against a stone. The professor set the +collar-bone—a harrowing piece of work, there being no anesthetics at +hand—and attended to the other hurts, the patient all the while +preserving a dogged and moody silence, and avoiding the eyes of whoever +looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Can't understand it," said the old gentleman to himself; "the fellow +acts like a wild-beast as regards his appreciation of human sympathy, in +spite of his refined intellect and cultivation. A wounded animal has the +same instinct to crawl away, and suffer in private."</p> + +<p>When brought into the house, Bressant had been laid in the spare room +adjoining the professor's study. After he had done all he could for his +comfort, the warm-hearted old gentleman, being overcome with fatigue, +retired to rest; the patient lay sullenly quiet, wishing it were day, +and, again, wishing day would never come: at length the composing +draught which had been given him took effect, and he sank heavily into +sleep.</p> + +<p>It was broad daylight when he awoke, and stared feverishly around him. +The room was a pleasant one, facing the north and east, and the morning +sun came cheerfully in through the open windows, slanting down the +walls, and brightening on the carpet. It was a great improvement upon +his rather gloomy room at the boarding-house, and he could not but feel +it so. A small ormolu clock ticked rapidly upon the mantel-piece, the +swing of the gilded pendulum being visible beneath. Bressant watched it +with idle interest. He felt so weak, in mind and body, that the clock +seemed company just fitted for his comprehension.</p> + +<p>The door opened by-and-by, and Cornelia's smiling face peeped in, +looking the sweeter for an expression of tender anxiety. Seeing that he +was awake, her eyes took on an extra sparkle, and she advanced a step +into the room, still clinging with one hand to the door-knob, however, +as if afraid to lose its support.</p> + +<p>"You feel a little better, don't you? Is that mattress comfortable? I'm +going to bring you your breakfast in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Bressant only grew red and bit his mustache for answer. He would gladly +have covered himself up out of sight, but he could not move hand or +foot.</p> + +<p>Cornelia had in her mind a little speech she meant to deliver to +Bressant, on the subject of the previous night's event, but, at the +critical moment, she felt her courage forsaking her. The topic was so +weighty—and then she shrank from speaking out what was in her head, +perhaps because her auditor was there as well as her sentiments. Still, +she felt she ought to try.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bressant," began she, with a kindling look, "Mr. Bressant, I—" +here her voice faltered; "oh! you don't know—I can never tell you—I +can never forget what you did last night!" This was the end of the great +speech.</p> + +<p>Bressant became still more red and uncomfortable. "I made a fool of +myself last night," said he, dejectedly. "I wish you hadn't been there; +if I'd known what a piece of work—"</p> + +<p>"But you saved my papa's life!" interrupted Cornelia, in a blaze.</p> + +<p>The young man looked as if struck with a new idea. It seemed as if he +had not before thought of looking upon the professor as an independent +quantity in the affair. The whole episode had presented itself to him as +a difficult problem which he was to solve. The accident to himself had +been an imperfection in the solution, of which he was deeply ashamed. +But he was somewhat consoled by the reflection that the old gentleman +had really needed preservation on his own account.</p> + +<p>"That does make it better," said he, half to himself, with the first +approach to good-humor he had shown since his misfortune.</p> + +<p>Cornelia still remained glowing in the door-way, turning the latch +backward and forward, not knowing what more to say, and yet unwilling to +say nothing more. She did not at all comprehend Bressant's attitude, and +therefore admired him all the more. What she could not understand in him +was, of course, beyond her scope.</p> + +<p>"You may think nothing of it, but I know I—I know we do—I can't say +what I want to, and I'm not going to try any more; but I'm sure you +know—or, at least, you'll find out some time—in some other way, you +know."</p> + +<p>Bressant could not hear all this, nor would he have known what it meant, +if he had; but he could see that Cornelia was kindly disposed toward +him, and was conscious of great pleasure in looking at her, and thought, +if she were to touch him, he would get well. He said nothing, however, +and presently his bodily pain caused him to sigh and close his eyes +wearily. Cornelia immediately kissed her soft fingers to him twice, and +then vanished from the room, looking more like a blush than a tea rose. +Before long she returned with the sick man's breakfast on a tray.</p> + +<p>"Do you like to be nursed?" asked she, as she put the tray on a table, +and moved it up to the bedside.</p> + +<p>"No!" said Bressant, emphatically, and with an intonation of great +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh! why not?" faltered Cornelia, quite taken aback.</p> + +<p>"I hate disabled people; they're monstrosities, and had better not be at +all. I wouldn't nurse them."</p> + +<p>"You think there's no pleasure in doing things for people who cannot +help themselves?" demanded Cornelia, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"There can be no pleasure in nursing," reiterated he. "It might be very +pleasant to be nursed—by any one who is beautiful—if one did not need +the nursing!"</p> + +<p>Cornelia was becoming so accustomed to Bressant's undisguised manners +that she forgot to be disturbed by this guileless compliment. Many hours +afterward, when she was alone in her chamber, the words recurred to her, +devoid of the version his manner had given them, and then they brought +the blood gently to her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You're very foolish," said she, as she poured out some tea, and cut up +a mutton-chop into mouthfuls. "Now, you have to drink this tea, though +you wouldn't the last time I poured you out a cup; and I'll give you +your chop. Open your mouth."</p> + +<p>So the athlete of the day before was obliged to submit to having his +tea-cup carried to his lips and tipped for him by a woman, and the chop +administered bit by bit on a fork. It was very degrading; but once in a +while Cornelia accidentally touched him, or her face, lit up by interest +in her occupation, came so near his own that he felt warm and thrilled, +and went near to admit it was worth all the broken bones in the world, +and the sacrifice of pride accompanying them.</p> + +<p>Ere breakfast was over, Professor Valeyon entered with his slippers, his +pipe, and a remarkably benevolent expression for one of such impending +eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy," said he—ever since the accident he had addressed +Bressant thus—"you look in a better humor with yourself this morning. +You'll be well used to this room before you leave it," he continued, +with kindly gravity, as he felt his patient's pulse. "You'll know all +about the number and relative position of the bars and bunches of +flowers on the wall-paper opposite, and how many feet and inches it is +from the window-frame to the room-corner, and which pane of glass is the +crookedest, and how much higher one post of your bedstead is than the +other; and plenty more things of that kind. And, to tell you the truth, +my boy, I don't believe a course of such studies, by way of variety, +will do you any harm. Now, let's look at this collar-bone of yours.—O +Cornelia! you'd better be finishing your packing, hadn't you?" he added, +to his daughter, who was leaning on the back of his chair, sympathizing +with the sick man to her heart's content. She walked obediently to the +door, but, before she disappeared, turned and sent back a smile charged +with all the warmth of her ardent, womanly nature. Bressant got the +whole benefit of it; and it lingered with him most of the morning.</p> + +<p>"How long must I be here?" inquired he, after Cornelia was gone.</p> + +<p>"Three months at least," replied the surgeon; "more if you worry +yourself about it."</p> + +<p>"Three months!" repeated the young man, aghast. "What's to become of my +studies? I can't hold a book; I can't write; I had to have my breakfast +fed to me this morning," continued he, biting his mustache and looking +away. The professor smiled thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I have hopes," said he, "that you'll know more about Divinity when you +come out of this room than you did before you went into it. We'll see +when the time comes."</p> + +<p>"I've found out already that my bones are like other men's," remarked +Bressant, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"So much the better," returned the old man. "You never would have +learned that out of your Hebrew Lexicon. The best way to reach this +young fellow's soul is through his body," declared he, silently, to the +bandage he was preparing for the broken head. "This is nothing but a +blessing in disguise." But he had too much tact to carry the +conversation further, and presently left his patient alone to digest +his breakfast and the lesson it had inculcated.</p> + +<p>This was Cornelia's last day at home; she was to take the eight-o'clock +train next morning to the city. The young lady's mood was unequal: +sometimes she drooped; anon would break forth into much talk and +merriment, which would evaporate almost as quickly as the froth of +champagne. This was her first departure from home, and the ease, +freedom, and beloved old ways of home-life, assumed more of their true +value in her eyes. She had acquired a sentiment of awe for Aunt +Margaret's grandeur. She would be obliged to sleep in corsets and +high-heeled shoes; everybody would be going through the figures of a +stately minuet all day long.</p> + +<p>Then she began to feel in advance the wrench of separating from those +with whom her life had been spent, and from one other in whose company +she had lived more—so it seemed to her—than in all the years since she +ceased to be a child. Bressant was very prominent in her thoughts; nor +could she be blamed for this, for the short acquaintance bad been +emphasized by a disproportional number of memorable events: First, there +was the thunder-storm evening by the fountain; afterward, the dance at +Abbie's; and, following in quick succession, the celestial arch, the +walk homeward, and the catastrophe in which he had borne the chief part. +Besides, he was so different from common men.</p> + +<p>"So perfectly natural and unaffected," she argued to herself. "He means +all he says; of course I shouldn't let him say such things to me as he +does if it weren't so; but it would be affectation in me to object to +it as it is!"—a most plausible deduction, by-the-way, but dangerous to +act upon. To persuade herself that, because he was an exceptional sort +of person, his plain way of talking to her was justifiable, was to +establish a secret understanding between him and herself, which placed +her at a disadvantage to begin with; and unreservedly to accept +compliments, even ingenuous ones, was to indulge in a luxury that must +ultimately render callous her moral sensitiveness and refinement.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, her toleration would be almost certain to have a bad +effect upon Bressant, no matter how sincere and well-meaning he might be +at the outset. A man is apt to know when he has power over a woman; and, +although he may have no expectation of it, nor wish to use it, yet, as +time goes on and accustoms him to the idea, he must have strong +principles or cold blood who does not finally yield to temptation. Plain +speaking, where pleasant things are said, is smelling poisonous flowers +for both parties.</p> + +<p>A steady fall of rain set in during the night, and made the morning of +departure gray. Blurred clouds rested helplessly on the backs of the +hills, and wept themselves into the wet valley without seeming to grow +less lugubrious for the indulgence. There was no wind; trees and plants +stood up and were soaked in passive resignation. The weather-beaten +boards of the barn were drenched black, except a small place right under +the eaves, which looked as if it had been painted a light gray. When the +covered wagon was brought around to the gate, it speedily acquired a +brilliant coat of varnish; Dolly's bay suit was streaked and discolored, +and the reins, thrown over her back, got all wet and uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>Michael now came for Cornelia's trunk—a ponderous structure packed +within an inch of its existence. Cornelia stood at the head of the +stairs and saw it go thump! thump! thump! down to the bottom, and then +scrape unwillingly over the oil-cloth to the door. Such a heavy-hearted +old trunk as it was! Then she walked to the hall-window, and watched its +further journey along the glistening marble causeway, which dimly +reflected its square ponderosity, and the tugging Michael behind it.</p> + +<p>Now the gate had to be pulled open; the rasp of its rattle and sharpness +of its flap were somewhat impaired by the wet, but it managed to give +the trunk a parting kick as it went out, as much as to say the house was +well rid of it.</p> + +<p>"Cornelia!" called the Professor from down-stairs, "you've just five +minutes to say good-by in. Get through and come along!"</p> + +<p>She passed through Sophie's open door; her sister held out her arms, her +eyes overflowing with tears, but smiling with the strange perversity +that possesses some people on these occasions. Cornelia was troubled +with no such misplaced self-dental; she threw herself impatiently down +by Sophie, and sobbed with all her might. Possibly it was more than one +regret that found utterance then.</p> + +<p>"You'll be all well and walking about when I come back, won't you dear?" +said she, at last, in a shaking voice.</p> + +<p>"I shall get well thinking what a splendid time you're having, +darling."</p> + +<p>"Sophie—will you be quite the same to me when I come back?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Neelie, dear, what a question! I shall always be the same to you."</p> + +<p>"But I feel as if there were going to be something—that something was +going to come between us;" and Cornelia began to droop like a flower +under an icy wind. "You never could hate me, could you, Sophie?"</p> + +<p>"Hate you! Neelie! What makes you speak so, dear? I have no misgivings."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't know—I don't know! it must be because I'm wicked!"</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> wicked, my darling sister! Come," said Sophie, with an earnest +smile, "think only of how much we love each other; let the misgivings +go."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we do love each other now, don't we? Whatever happens we'll always +remember that. Good-by, Sophie!" said Cornelia, with a strong hug and a +long kiss.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, dear Neelie!"</p> + +<p>Cornelia ran down-stairs; her papa had just gone out to the wagon; she +went into Bressant's room, and walked quickly up to the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Here's your watch," said she. "I've kept it all safe, and wound it up +and every thing." She had also slept with it under her pillow, and worn +it all day in her bosom, but that she did not mention. She laid it down +on the table as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Have you a watch?" asked Bressant.</p> + +<p>"I had one, but it did not go very long. It was very small and pretty +though;" this is the short and pathetic history of most ladies' watches.</p> + +<p>"I'd like you to take something of mine with you that you can see and +hear and touch: will you keep this watch?" asked he, fixing his eyes +upon her. There was no time to deliberate; there was nothing she would +like so much; she snatched it up without a word and stuck it into her +belt.</p> + +<p>"Good-by!" said she, holding out her hand. Bressant took it, not without +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"I wish you were going to stay," said he, gloomily, "I should be more +happy to have you here, than ashamed to need your help."</p> + +<p>Cornelia's eyes fell, and there was a tremulousness on her lips that +might mean either smiles or tears. "You'll be glad to see me when I come +back, then, and you are well?"</p> + +<p>"You'll be like a beautiful morning when you come," returned he, with a +touch of that picturesqueness that sounded so quaintly coming from him. +All this time he had retained her hand, and now, looking her in the +eyes, he drew it with painful effort toward his lips. Cornelia's heart +beat so she could scarcely stand, and her mind was in a confusion, but +she did not withdraw her hand. Perhaps because he was so pale and +helpless; perhaps the old argument—"it's his way—he don't know it +isn't customary;" perhaps—for this also must have a place—perhaps from +a fear lest he should make no attempt to regain it. She felt his bearded +lips press against it. At the touch, a sudden weakness, a self-pitying +sensation, came over her, and the tears started to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"No one ever did that before to me," she said, almost plaintively, for +he had spoken no justifying words, and she was balancing between a +remorseful timidity and a timid exultation.</p> + +<p>"It's the first kiss I ever gave," said he, and his own voice vibrated. +"Are you angry? it shall be the last if you are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not angry," faltered poor Cornelia; and then she felt, or +seemed to feel, a force drawing her down—scarcely perceptible, yet +strong as death. She bent her lovely glowing face, with its tearful eyes +and fragrant breath, close down to Bressant's.</p> + +<p>At that very moment, or even an incalculable instant before, the +professor's voice was heard calling loudly from without:</p> + +<p>"Come—come! be quick! you'll be too late!"</p> + +<p>She rose and fled from the room; but it was too late, indeed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>NURSING.</h3> + + +<p>After seeing Cornelia off, Professor Valeyon bethought himself of Abbie; +she must be wondering what had become of her late boarder, and he +resolved to stop at the house, and give her an account of the accident. +He had got some distance beyond the boarding-house when the idea +occurred to him. Just as he was about to head Dolly round in the +opposite direction, he discerned a figure beyond, beneath an umbrella, +which looked very much like the person he was seeking. He drove on, and +in a few minutes overtook her.</p> + +<p>"Going up to the Parsonage?" cried the old gentleman, getting gallantly +down into the mud. "Here, jump up into-the wagon; I want to tell you +about your—boarder."</p> + +<p>"He—there's nothing the matter with him, of course?" said Abbie, with a +short laugh. She was looking very pale, and as if she had not slept much +of late. "No, don't drive mo to the Parsonage; take me home, if you +please, Professor Valeyon. Well, about Mr. Bressant?"</p> + +<p>"Doing very well now; he was pretty seriously hurt." And he went on to +give a short account of what had happened, which Abbie did not interrupt +by word or gesture; she sat with her head bent, and her lips working +against each other.</p> + +<p>"It's quite certain he'll recover?" she asked, when all was told.</p> + +<p>"As certain," quoth the professor, non-committally, "as any thing in +surgery can be."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be safe to move him, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Not till he's a good deal better; you see, the collar-bone—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll take your word for it," said Abbie, very pale. "Well, I'm +glad he's in such good hands. If I had him he wouldn't be comfortable; I +should be sure to do him more harm than good; it's better as it is; much +better."</p> + +<p>She spoke in an inward tone, looking vacantly out into the rain, and +fumbling with the handle of her umbrella.</p> + +<p>"But you'll come up and see him once in a while, at the Parsonage?"</p> + +<p>Abbie shook her head. "No, no, Professor Valeyon; why should I? Do you +suppose he wants to see me? do you suppose he's thought of me once since +he went away? It would be a strange thing for an educated, intellectual, +wealthy young man like him to do, wouldn't it?" asked Abbie, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>The professor's eyes met hers for a moment, and then she looked away. +Presently she spoke again:</p> + +<p>"I'd a great deal rather leave this world as I've lived in it, for the +last twenty years and more, than run any risk of making a blunder. I +don't want things to change, Professor Valeyon; but if they do, it +musn't be through any act of mine, or yours either."</p> + +<p>By this time they had arrived at the boarding-house; and the old +gentleman, having seen Abbie safely in to the door, drove homeward, +frowning all the way, and at intervals shaking his head slowly. When he +got home, he shut himself into his study, and there paced restlessly +backward and forward, and stared out of the window across the valley. +That open spot on the hill-top seemed to afford little or no +enlightenment or satisfaction; and when he sat down to his solitary +dinner, the frown had not yet cleared away.</p> + +<p>The next day the rain was over, and a cart was sent up to the parsonage, +containing Bressant's books, and such other of his belongings as he +would be likely to need during his illness; and, accompanying them, a +note from Abbie, expressing her regret at his misfortune, and her hopes +that he would return to his rooms at her house as soon as his health was +sufficiently reestablished. The young man heard the note read, and +congratulated himself, as he closed his eyes with a yawn, that he was +not under his quondam landlady's ministrations.</p> + +<p>But even the best circumstances could do little to lighten the +insufferable tediousness of his confinement. Probably, however, such +changes and modifications as may have been in progress in his nature, +attained quicker and easier development by reason of his physical +prostration. The alteration in his bodily habits and conditions paved +the way for an analogous moral and mental process. The powers of a man +are never annihilated; if dormant in one direction, they will be active +in another; and thus Bressant's passions, naturally deep and violent, +being denied legitimate outlet, had given vigor, endurance, and heat of +purpose, to the prosecution of his intellectual exercises. But, as soon +as these elements of his nature found their proper channels, they rushed +onward with far more dash and fervor than if they had never been dammed +or deflected.</p> + +<p>The combined effect upon the young man of the companionship of a +beautiful woman and his own broken bones, had been to make him feel and +ponder on the nature of her power over him. The name of love was of +course familiar to him, but he could hardly as yet, perhaps, grasp the +full significance of the sentiment. Like other forms of knowledge, it +must be approached by natural gradations. Here, if nowhere else, +Bressant's life of purely intellectual activity was a disadvantage. His +stand-points and views were artificial, speculative, and material. Love +cannot be reduced to a formula, and then relinquished; nor is it ever +safe to use, as pattern for an untried work, the plan whereby something +else was accomplished. Life has need of many methods.</p> + +<p>Nearly a week of musing and speculation had passed over the young man's +head, when one day, as he was feeling unusually disconsolate, and +wishing for unattainable things—Cornelia among others—he became aware, +through some subtle channel of sensation, that somebody was standing in +the door-way. He was lying in such a position that he could not see the +door, so, after waiting a few moments, he exclaimed, with an invalid's +irritability:</p> + +<p>"Come in—or shut the door!"</p> + +<p>"I'll come in, if you please," answered an amused voice, which, though +soft and low, possessed a penetrating quality which made it easily +audible to the deaf man. He had never heard it before; but either +because of this quality, or for some other more occult reason, he +conceived a most decided liking for it.</p> + +<p>It's owner now became visible. She was a delicate-looking girl, with a +pale, conch-shell complexion, brown hair as fine as silk, and pleasant, +serene, gray eyes. She was dressed very simply in white, with a blue +band across her hair, and a blue scarf and sash around throat and waist. +Her face, though showing signs of quiet strength, and of a +self-confidence which was the flower of maidenly modesty and innocence, +was not beautiful according to any recognized standard. Bressant, from +his intuitive perception of form and proportion, was aware of this. The +forehead was too high, the nose irregular, the mouth lacked the perfect +curve, and the teeth, though white and even, were not small enough for +beauty.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Bressant was at once impressed with the young girl's +presence. It was as if an ethereal cloud—such as that which, shone +through by white sunlight, was just floating past the window—had eddied +unexpectedly into his chamber, cooling and quieting him with the +freshness of its heavenly vapor. Her eyes met his with a simple +directness which made his glance waver, though he was not given to +humility. Something, whereof neither science nor philosophy can take +cognizance, seemed to emanate from her, elevating while it humbled him.</p> + +<p>"If I'd known who you were, I—I shouldn't have asked you to shut the +door!" said he, in an apologetic tone quite new to him.</p> + +<p>"And how do you know who I am?" inquired the vision, with a refreshing +smile.</p> + +<p>"I meant, what sort of a person you were; but you must be Miss Sophie: +only I thought she was ill."</p> + +<p>"I am Miss Sophie, but I'm not to be thought ill any more. One invalid +in the house is enough. I'm going to nurse you, and, since I'm well, you +may be twice as ill as ever, if you choose."</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Bressant, quite resignedly. He was becoming a very +respectable patient.</p> + +<p>"In what way do you want to be taken care of?" resumed the nurse with a +cheerful, business-like gravity which was at once becoming and piquant.</p> + +<p>"Stay here and talk; I like to hear your voice: and you look so cool and +pleasant."</p> + +<p>Very few people could oppose this young man in any thing; he knew so +well what he wanted, and demanded it so uncompromisingly. But Sophie's +sense of fitness and propriety was as sound and impenetrable as adamant, +and scarcely to be affected by any human will or consideration. She felt +there was something not quite right in his manner and in the nature of +his demand; and, being in the habit of making people conform to her +ideas, rather than the reverse, she at once determined to correct him.</p> + +<p>"If there's any thing you wish me to read to you, I'll do it. I didn't +come to sit down and talk to you; but, if you like my voice, you can +have more pleasure from it in that way."</p> + +<p>"It would be no use for you to read: I couldn't understand—I couldn't +attend to your voice and the book at the same time."</p> + +<p>"We'd better wait, then," said Sophie, turning her clear, gray eyes upon +him with an expression of demure satire. "By-and-by, perhaps, it won't +have such a distracting effect upon you—when you come to know me +better. If not, I must keep away altogether."</p> + +<p>Bressant's forehead grew red with sudden temper. He felt reproved, but +was not prepared to acknowledge that he had merited it.</p> + +<p>"You're very generous of your voice!" exclaimed he, resentfully. "It's +your fault, not mine, that it's agreeable. You're not so kind as your +tone is."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to be unkind," said she, more gently, looking down. "You +don't seem to see the difference between unkindness and—what I said."</p> + +<p>"What is the difference?" demanded he, taking her up.</p> + +<p>Sophie paused a few moments, compassionating this great, willful boy, +and wondering what she could do for him. He had saved her father's life, +thereby imperilling his own, and disabling himself, and she could not +but admire and thank him for it. But his manner puzzled and annoyed her, +and was an obstacle in the way of her would-be helpfulness.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't ask that question, I think, if you'd had sisters, or a +mother," she said, at last. "I suppose you've lived only with men. But +you must learn how to treat young women from your own sense of what is +delicate and true."</p> + +<p>Bressant stared and was silent: and Sophie herself was surprised at the +authoritative tone she was assuming toward a bearded man whom she had +never met before. But it was impossible to associate with Bressant +without either yielding to him, or, at least, behaving differently from +at other times, in one way or another. He was a magnet that drew from +people things unsuspected by themselves.</p> + +<p>The pause was finally broken by the young man's accepting the situation +with a grace, and even docility, which was nearly too much for Sophie's +gravity.</p> + +<p>"If you'll read, I will listen and understand it: you'd better try the +Bible. I have a great deal of work to do upon that, still: you'll find +one on the table by the window."</p> + +<p>She got the book, with whose contents she was considerably better +acquainted than was the divinity student, and sat down to read, +marveling at the oddness of the situation; while he lay apparently +absorbed in the cracks on the ceiling. By degrees—for having carried +her point she could not help being more gracious—she began to allow a +little embroidery of conversation to weave itself about the sacred text +She spoke to Bressant about such simple and ordinary matters as went to +make up her life—the books she had read, the people she knew, the +country round about, a few of her more inward thoughts. He listened, and +said no more than enough to show he was attentive; sometimes making her +laugh by the shrewdness of his questions, and the quaintness of his +remarks.</p> + +<p>But he said nothing more to bring a grave look into the eyes of his +young nurse; and she, finding him so gentle and boyish, and withal manly +and profound, chatted on with more confidence and freedom; and, being +gifted with fineness and accuracy of observation, and a clear flow and +order of language and ideas, made talking a delight and a profit.</p> + +<p>There was nothing formal or didactic about Sophie, and her talk rippled +forth as naturally and spontaneously as a brook trickles over its brown +stones, or the over-hanging willows whisper in the wind. There was in it +the unwearied and unweariable freshness of nature. And Sophie's vein of +humor was as fine and pungent as the aroma of a lemon: it touched her +words now and then, and made their flavor all the more acceptable.</p> + +<p>So Bressant gained his end at last, though he had yielded it; and this +fact was not lost upon the trained keenness of his observation. After +his nurse was gone, he lay with closed eyes, and a general sensation of +comfort, until he fell asleep. Quiet dreams came to him, such as +children have sometimes, but grown-up people seldom. Everywhere he +seemed to follow a cool, white cloud. But where was Cornelia?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE.</h3> + + +<p>In spite of nursing and a very strong constitution, Bressant's recovery +was slow. The fact was, his mind was restless and disturbed, and +produced a fever in his blood. Large and powerful as he was, his +physical was largely dependent on his mental well-being, as must always +be the case with persons well organized throughout. He would never have +been so muscular and healthy had his life not been an undisturbed and +self-complacent one. These questions of the heart and emotions were not +salutary to his body, however beneficial otherwise.</p> + +<p>At the same time, no one is quite himself who is ill, and doubtless +Bressant would have escaped many of his difficulties, and solved others +with comparatively little trouble, if his faculties had not been untuned +by illness. While he was more open to the influx of all these novel +ideas and problems, he was less able to deal with and dispose of them. +So the professor, while encouraged by the observation of his apparent +progress in the direction of human feeling and emotional warmth, was +concerned to find him falling off in recuperative power.</p> + +<p>Sophie was largely to blame for it. Bressant was getting to depend too +much upon her society. He brightened when she came in, and was gloomy +when she went out. He liked to talk and argue with her; to dash waves +of logic, impetuous but subtle, against the rock of her pure intuitions +and steady consistency. He was careful not to go too far; though, +indeed, she usually had the best of the encounter. Of course his +knowledge and trained faculties far surpassed Sophie's simple +acquirements and modest learning; but she had a marvelous penetration in +seeing a fallacy, even when she knew not how to expose it; and she +mercilessly pricked many of the conceited bubbles of his understanding.</p> + +<p>Doubtless she would have noticed the too prominent position which she +had come to occupy in the invalid's horizon, had not her eyes, so clear +to see every thing else, been blinded by the fact that he, also, was +grown to be of altogether too much importance to her. She never for a +moment imagined that any thing but an abstract and ideal scheme for +benefiting Bressant was actuating her in her intercourse with him. She +proposed to educate him in pure beliefs and true aspirations; to show +him that there was more in life than can be mathematically proved. But +that she could derive other than an immaterial and impersonal enjoyment +from it—oh, no!</p> + +<p>This was quixotic and unpractical, if nothing worse. What other means of +imparting spiritual knowledge could a young girl like Sophie have, than +to exhibit to her pupil the structure and workings of her own soul? But +this could not be done with impunity; neither was Bressant a cup, to be +emptied and then refilled with a purer substance. Young men and women +with exalted and ideal views about each other, cannot do better than to +keep out of one another's way. Unless they are prepared to mingle a +great deal of what is earthly with their dreams, they will be apt, +sooner or later, to have a rude awakening.</p> + +<p>The conceit of her ideal crusade against Bressant's shortcomings blinded +Sophie to what she could not otherwise have helped seeing—that she +enjoyed his companionship for its own immediate sake. She had, perhaps, +more direct and simple strength of character than he; but he made up in +other ways for the lack of it. Besides, he had not taken measures to +obstruct the natural keenness of his vision, and therefore saw, with +comparative clearness, how the land lay; an immense advantage over +Sophie, of course. But when he came to analyzing and classifying what he +saw, he found his intelligence at fault. That little episode with +Cornelia was the only bit of experience he had to fall back upon; and +that was more of a puzzle than an assistance to him.</p> + +<p>Matters went on thus for about six weeks, at which time Bressant was +still confined to his room, although decidedly convalescent. It had +seemed to him for some time past that a crisis would soon be reached in +his relations with Sophie, but what the upshot of it would be he could +not conjecture. He only felt that at present something was +concealed—that there were explanations and confessions to be made, +which would have the effect of putting his young nurse and himself upon +more open and intimate terms. He looked forward to this culmination with +impatience, and yet with anxiety. One morning, when they had been +reading Spenser's "Faerie Queene," Cornelia's weekly letter was brought +in, and subsequently the conversation turned upon her.</p> + +<p>"I used to think she was much more beautiful than you," remarked +Bressant, thoughtfully, twisting and turning the palm-leaf fan he held +in his hands. "I don't think, now, that I knew what beauty was," he +added, concentrating his straight eyebrows upon Sophie, in a +scrutinizing look.</p> + +<p>"No one could be more beautiful than Neelie," said Sophie, with gentle +emphasis. "What has made you change your opinion?" As she spoke, she +closed the book on her lap, and leaned her cheek upon her hand. Some of +the sunshine fell upon her white dress, but left her face in shadow. It +struck Bressant, however, that the clear morning light which filled the +room emanated from her eyes rather than from the sunshine.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I have changed my opinion," said he, looking down +again at the fan; "I learn new things every day, that's all. Do you ever +think about yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I do, sometimes; nobody can help being conscious of +themselves once in a while."</p> + +<p>"About what you are, compared with other people, I mean."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing peculiar about me; still, I may be different, in some +ways, from other people," answered Sophie, with simplicity.</p> + +<p>"I can judge better about that than you; there was some use in deafness, +and being alone, and thinking only of fame, and such things."</p> + +<p>"What use?" asked Sophie, leaning forward, with interest, for he had +never spoken about his former life before.</p> + +<p>"The same way that a man who never drinks has a more delicate sense of +taste than a drunkard," returned Bressant, apparently pleased with his +simile. "I've seen so little of women, that I can taste you more +correctly than if I had seen a great many. Understand?"</p> + +<p>Sophie did not answer, being somewhat thrown out by this new way of +looking at the matter. There seemed to be some reason in it, too.</p> + +<p>"If I'd associated with other people, I shouldn't have been sensitive +enough to recognize you when we met; no one except me can know you or +feel you," continued he, following out his idea.</p> + +<p>Sophie began to feel a vague misgiving. What did this mean? What was +going to be the end of it? Ought she to allow it to go on? And yet—most +likely it meant nothing; it was only one of his queer fancies that he +was elaborating. There did not seem to be any thing suspicious in his +manner.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't easy even for me," he resumed, throwing another glance at +her; she sat with her eyes cast down, so that he could observe her with +impunity. "It would have been impossible unless you had helped me to it. +You have taught me yourself, even more than I have studied you."</p> + +<p>Sophie started, and a look of terror, bewilderment, and passionate +repudiation, lightened in her eyes. How dared he—how could he, say +that? how so falsely misrepresent her actions, and misinterpret her +purposes? Her mind went staggering back over the past, seeking for means +of self-justification and defense. She had only meant to benefit him—to +amplify and soften his character—to inspire him with more ideal views +and aims; and to do this she had—what? Sophie paused, and shuddered. +Could it, after all, be true? Had she, forgetful of maidenly modesty and +reserve, opened to this man's eyes her secret soul? invited him into the +privacy of her heart, to criticise and handle it?—invited him!—brought +forward, and pressed upon his notice, the thoughts and impulses which +she should scarcely have whispered even to herself? Had she done this?</p> + +<p>"You have taught me that there is no one like you in the world," said +Bressant. His voice sounded strangely to her, coming across such an +abyss of shame, remorse, and dismay. Did he know the bitter satire his +words conveyed? Sophie's face was hidden in her hands. She dared not +think what might come next.</p> + +<p>"Is it nothing to you to know that you are more to me than any thing +else?" demanded he, and his tone was becoming husky and unsteady. The +passion that had been smouldering within him so long, unsuspected in its +intensity even by himself, was now beginning to be-stir itself, and +shoot forth jets of flame. "Why have you let yourself be with me—why +have you made yourself necessary to me—if I was nothing to you?"</p> + +<p>Sophie, in the extreme depths of her degradation and abasement, became +all at once quiet and composed. She lifted her face, pale, and smitten +with suffering, from her hands, and, folding them in her lap, looked at +Bressant calmly, because she understood herself at last, and felt that +the time for hiding her head in shame had gone by.</p> + +<p>"You have <i>not</i> been nothing to me," said she, "though I didn't know it +before, or, rather, I <i>would</i> not. I had an idea that I was leading you +up to higher things, as an angel might, and all the time I was making +use of God's truth and recommendation, as it were, to gratify and shield +my own selfishness and—" here her voice sank, and her lips quivered, +and grew dry, but she waited, and struggled, and finally went on—"and +immodesty. I don't know why I should tell you this—except that I've +told you every thing else, and this may save you from some of the wrong +the rest has done you. But the most of it must remain irreparable." A +long sigh quivered up from Sophie's heart, and quivered down again, like +a pebble sinking through the water. Such a sigh, in a woman, is the sign +of what can scarcely come twice in a lifetime.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand any thing about that; I don't want to!" exclaimed +Bressant, with an impetuous gesture. "What you've done seems to have +been better than what you meant to do, at any rate. You've made yourself +every thing to me. Say that I am as much to you, and what more do we +need? Say it! say it!" and, in the vehemence of his appeal, the sick man +half raised himself from his bed.</p> + +<p>"I cannot! I cannot!" said Sophie, in a low, penetrating voice of +suffering. "If you were the lowest of all men, I could not. I came to +you in the guise of an angel, and what I have done, what woman is there +that would not blush at it? It may not be too late to save you—"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Bressant, with an accent of hoarse, masculine command, +such as she could not gainsay. "It is too late!—I will not be saved! +Look in my eyes, Sophie Valeyon, and tell me the name of what you see +there!"</p> + +<p>Her sad, gray eyes, stern to herself, but tender and soft to him, as a +cloud ready to melt in rain-drops, met his, which were alight with all +the fire that an aroused and passionate spirit could kindle in them. She +saw what she had never beheld before indeed, but the meaning of which no +woman ever yet mistook. It was her work—the assurance of her +disgrace—the offspring of her self-seeking and unwomanly behavior; and +yet, as she looked, the blood rose gradually to her pale cheeks, and +stained them with a deeper and yet deeper spot of red; her glance caught +a spark from his, and her fragile and drooping figure seemed to dilate +and grow stately, as if inspired by some burst of glorious music. +Bressant, in the mid-whirl and heat of his emotion, fell back upon the +pillow, whence he had partly raised himself, trembling from head to +foot.</p> + +<p>"Is it love?" he said, in a smothered tone that was scarcely more than a +whisper. He was beaten down and overawed by the might and grandeur of +the passion which, growing in his own breast, had become a giant that +swayed and swept all things before it.</p> + +<p>"Yes—love!" said Sophie, in a voice like the soft ring of a silver +trumpet. Her heart was steadied and strengthened by what mastered him. +"Love—it is above every thing else. It has brought me down so +low—perhaps, through God's mercy, it is the path by which I may rise +again. You will guide me, dear?"</p> + +<p>And, with a gesture of divine humility, she put her hand in his, and +looked down, with the smile brightening mistily in her eyes.</p> + +<p>At that moment—recalled, perhaps, by a chance similarity in position, +gesture, or expression—came over him, like a sudden chill and darkness, +the memory of his last interview with Cornelia.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>PARTING AN ANCHOR.</h3> + + +<p>Cornelia, upon her arrival in New York, had been met at the station by +an emissary of Aunt Margaret, and conducted to a country-seat some +distance up the river. Four or five young ladies were already assembled +there, and as many young gentlemen came up on afternoon trains, and +availed themselves of Aunt Margaret's hospitality, until business called +them to the city again the nest morning, except that on Saturdays they +brought an extra change or two of raiment, to tide them over the blessed +rest of Sunday.</p> + +<p>"I've been so <i>ill</i>, my love—how sweet and fresh you <i>do</i> look! +Give your auntie a kiss—there. <i>Oh</i>! you naughty girl, how jealous +all the girls will be of those <i>eyes</i> of yours!—so ill—<i>such</i> +dreadful sick-headaches—oh, yes! I'm a <i>great</i> sufferer, dear, +a great <i>sufferer</i>—but no one, hardly, knows it. I tell <i>you</i>, you +know, dear, because you are my own darling little Cornelia. Oh! those +sweet <i>eyes</i>! So ill—so <i>unable</i>, you know, to be <i>up</i> and <i>doing</i>—to +be as I should wish to be—as I once <i>was</i>—as you are now, +you—splendid—creature—you! Now you <i>must</i> let me speak my heart out +to you, dear; it's my nature to do it, and I <i>can't</i> restrain, +it—foolish I know, but I always <i>was</i> so foolish! oh dear! well—Ah! +there's the first bell already. Let me show you your room, darling. As I +was going to say, I've been so indisposed that I've been obliged to pet +myself up a little here, before starting on our <i>tour</i>, you know, but in +a week I mean to be well again—I <i>will</i> be. Oh! I have immense +<i>resolution</i>, dear Neelie—<i>immense</i> fortitude, where those I love are +concerned. There, this is your little nest—now <i>one</i> more kiss. Oh! +those sweet <i>lips</i>! Remember you sit by me at dinner."</p> + +<p>"What a funny old woman Aunt Margaret is!" said Cornelia to herself, +after she had closed the door of her chamber. "Such a queer voice—goes +away up high, and then away down low, all in the same sentence. And what +a small head for such a tall woman! and she's so thin! I do hope she +won't go on kissing me so much with her big mouth! how fast she does +twist it about! and then her front teeth stick out so! and she keeps +shoving that great black ear-trumpet at me, whenever she thinks I want +to speak; and her eyes are as pale and watery as they can be, and they +look all around you and never at you. Well, it's very mean of me to +criticise the old thing so; she's as kind as she can be. I wonder +whether she knows Mr. Bressant; her manner reminds me sometimes of him; +in a horrid way, of course, but—poor fellow! what is he doing now, I'd +like to know!" Here Cornelia's meditations became very profound and +private indeed; she, meanwhile, in her material capacity, making such +alterations and improvements in her personal appearance as were +necessary to prepare herself for the table.</p> + +<p>Every few minutes—oftener than any circumstances could have +warranted—she pulled a handsome gold watch out of her belt and +consulted it. She did not, to be sure, seem solely anxious to know the +hour; she bent down and examined the enameled face minutely; watched +the second-hand make its tiny circuit; pressed the smooth crystal +against her cheek; listened to the ceaseless beating of its little +golden heart. That golden heart, it seemed to her, was a connecting link +between Bressant's and her own. He had set it going, and it should be +her care that it never stopped; for at the hour in which it ran +down—such was Cornelia's superstitious idea—some lamentable misfortune +would surely come to pass.</p> + +<p>The dinner-bell sounded; she put her watch back into her belt, bestowing +a loving little pat upon it, by way of temporary adieu. Then, feeling +pretty hungry, she ran down the broad, soft-carpeted stairs, with their +wide mahogany banisters—she would have sat upon the latter and slid +down if she had dared—and entering the dining-room, which was furnished +throughout with yellow oak, even to the polished floor, she took her +place by her hostess's side. She had already been presented to the +fashionable guests who sat around the ample table, and a good deal of +the awe which she had felt in anticipation, had begun to ooze away. +Although much was said that was unintelligible to her, she could see +that this was not the result of intellectual deficiency on her part, but +merely of an ignorance of the ground on which the conversation was +founded. As Cornelia stole glances at the faces, pretty or pretentious, +of the young ladies, or at the mustaches, whiskers, or carefully-parted +hair of the young gentlemen, it did not seem to her that she could call +herself essentially the inferior of any one of them. As to what they +thought of her, she could only conjecture; but the gentlemen were +extravagantly polite—according to her primitive ideas of that +much-abused virtue—and the ladies were smiling, full of pretty +attitudes, small questions, and accentuated comments. No one of them, +nor of the young men either, seemed to be very hungry; but Cornelia had +her usual unexceptionable appetite, and ate stoutly to satisfy it; she +even tasted a glass of Italian wine at dessert, upon the assurance of +Aunt Margaret that "she must—<i>really</i> must—it would never do to come +to New York without learning how to drink wine, you know;" and upon the +word of the young gentleman who sat next to her that it wouldn't hurt +her a bit—all wines were medicinal—Italian wines especially so; and +so, indeed, it proved, for Cornelia thought she had never felt so genial +a glow of sparkling life in her veins. She was good-natured enough to +laugh at any thing, and brilliant enough to make anybody else laugh; and +the evening passed away most pleasantly.</p> + +<p>But Cornelia was no fool, to be made a butt of; and her personality was +too vigorous, her individuality too strong, not to make an impression +and way of its own wherever she was. The young ladies tried in vain to +patronize her: they had not the requisite capital in themselves; and the +young gentlemen soon gave up the attempt to make fun of her; her +vitality was too much for them, and they were, moreover, disconcerted by +her beauty. Miss Valeyon, however, was new to the world, and her +curiosity and vanity had large, unsatisfied appetites. To have been +patronized and made fun of would have done her little or no harm; but in +gratifying these appetites she might do a good deal of harm to herself.</p> + + +<p>When the young gentlemen were in town, or in the smoking-room, the young +ladies were of course thrown upon their own resources, and generally +drifted together in little groups, to talk in low tones or in loud, to +laugh or to whisper. Cornelia, who soon got upon terms of companionship +with one or two members of these conclaves, could hardly do otherwise +than occasionally join the meetings. At first she found little or +nothing of interest to herself in what they talked about.</p> + +<p>The discussion of dress, to be sure, was something, and she found she +had much to learn even there. Then there was a great deal to be said +about sociables, and theatres, and sets, and fellows; and there was also +more or less conversation, carried on in a low tone that occasionally +descended to a whisper, which, beyond that it seemed to have reference +to marriage and kindred matters, was for the most part Greek to +Cornelia. A kind of metaphor was used which the country-bred minister's +daughter could not elucidate, nor could she comprehend how young ladies, +unmarried as she herself was, could know so much about things which +marriage alone is supposed to reveal.</p> + +<p>Once or twice she had requested an explanation of some of these obscure +points, but her request had been met, first by a dead silence, then by a +laugh, and an inquiry whether she had no young married friends, and also +whether she had ever read the works of Paul Féval, Dumas, and +Balzac—all of which gave her little enlightenment, but taught her to +keep her mouth shut, and open her eyes and ears wider.</p> + +<p>One day when "Aunt Margaret" had invited her to a <i>tête-à-tête</i> in the +boudoir, it occurred to Cornelia, in the wisdom of her heart, to take +advantage of the opportunity to introduce the subject. She was a widow: +was very good-natured; would be sure not to laugh at her, and could +hardly help knowing as much as the young ladies knew.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Vanderplanck, as Cornelia entered, "such a +relief—such a <i>refreshment</i> to look at that sweet face of yours! There! +I must have my <i>kiss</i>, you know. Yes, I was just thinking of you, my +love—so longing to have a quiet <i>chat</i> with you—your dear +father!—such a <i>grand</i> man he is! <i>such genius</i>! Oh! <i>I</i> was his +devoted. Tell me all about him, and that sweet <i>home</i> of yours, and +<i>dear</i> little Sophie, too. Oh! I was so shocked, so terrified, to hear +of her illness; and—let me see!—oh, yes, and that new pupil your papa +has—Mr. Bressant—<i>how</i> is he? <i>does</i> he behave well? <i>is</i> he pleasant? +<i>do</i> you see much of him? <i>does</i> he keep himself quiet?—such a—"</p> + +<p>"Why! how did you know about him?" interrupted Cornelia, into Mrs. +Vanderplanck's ever-ready ear-trumpet. "Is he a relation of yours, or +any thing?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Margaret stopped short, and pressed her thin, wide lips together. +She had never imagined but that Professor Valeyon had told his daughters +through whose immediate instrumentality it was that Bressant made his +appearance at the Parsonage; but finding, from Cornelia's questions, +that this was not so, she bethought herself that it might be well for +her young guest to remain in ignorance, at least for the present. It was +not too late, and, after a scarcely-perceptible pause, she made answer:</p> + +<p>"It was in your dear papa's <i>answer</i> to my invitation, my love. Oh! so +shocked I was dear little Sophie couldn't come—lay awake <i>all</i> that +night with a headache—yes, <i>indeed</i>!—when he <i>wrote</i> to me, you +know—such a dear, noble letter it <i>was</i>, too! Oh! I read it over a +dozen—<i>twenty</i> times at least!—he mentioned this new pupil of +his—seemed interested in him—of course I <i>can't</i> help being interested +in whatever interests any of you dear ones, you know—he mentioned his +strange name and all—it <i>is</i> a strange name, isn't it, love?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't his real name," interposed Cornelia; "nobody except papa knows +who he is. It's just like one of those ancient names, you know—the +Christian name and the surname in one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I see—so odd, isn't it?—such a <i>mystery</i>, and all +that—yes—so that's how I came to speak of him, I suppose. One gets +<i>ideas</i> of a person that way sometimes, don't you know, though they may +never have actually <i>seen</i> them at all? Oh! when I was a <i>young</i> thing, +I was just full of those—<i>ideals, I</i> used to call them—oh, you know +all about it, I <i>dare</i> say!"</p> + +<p>"He met with a very serious accident just before I came away," said +Cornelia to the ear-trumpet; "he stopped Dolly—our horse—she was +running away with papa in the wagon. He saved papa beautifully, but he +was dreadfully hurt—his collar-bone was broken, and he was kicked, and +almost killed. He's at our house now, and papa's taking care of him."</p> + +<p>At this information Aunt Margaret became very white, or rather +bloodless, in the face. She allowed the ear-trumpet to hang by its +silver chain from her neck, and, reaching out her hand to a recess in +the writing-table at which she sat, she drew forth a small ebony box, +set in silver, and carved all over with little figures in bass-relief. +Opening it, she took out a few grains of some dark substance which the +box contained, and slipped them eagerly into her large mouth, Cornelia +watched her out of the corner of her eyes, and, being a physician's +daughter, she drew her own conclusions.</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho! that's where your sick-headaches, and yellow complexion, and +nervousness, and weak eyes, come from, is it? You'd better look out! +that's morphine, or opium, or some such thing, I know; and papa says +that old ladies like you, who use such drugs, are liable to get insane +after a while, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if you were to become +insane, Aunt Margaret!"</p> + +<p>This agreeable prophecy, being confined solely to Cornelia's thoughts, +was naturally inaudible to Mrs. Vanderplanck. She murmured something +about her doctor having prescribed medicine to be taken at that hour, +and then, the medicine appearing to have an immediate and salutary +effect, she found her color and her voice again, and took up the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Shocking! oh, shocking! <i>so</i> sad for the poor young man—no +father—no—no mother there to care for him. He <i>it</i> an orphan, is he +not?—no relatives, I suppose—no one who <i>belongs</i> to him, poor boy! +Dear, dear!—but he's <i>not</i> fatally injured, is he?—not fatally?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," replied Cornelia, whose opinion of Aunt Margaret's character +was much improved by this evidently sincere sympathy in the suffering of +some one she had never seen—"oh, no; papa says he'll be all well in +three months."</p> + +<p>"And he's staying at your house, and under your dear father's care?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is now. Before his accident he was boarding at Abbie's, down in +the village. She would have been very kind to him, of course, but I +suppose he'd rather be at our house, because papa can always be at +hand."</p> + +<p>While Cornelia was delivering this into the black ear-trumpet, she +turned her eyes away from Aunt Margaret's face, being in truth somewhat +embarrassed at talking so much about the man who had her heart. +Consequently she did not observe the expression which crossed her +companion's face at her mention of the modest name of the boarding-house +keeper. Her features seemed to contract and sharpen, and there was +positively a glitter in her watery eyes, seemingly mingled of +consternation, astonishment, and hatred. In another moment the +expression had passed away, or was softened into one of nervous alarm +and anxiety; and even this, when she spoke, was wellnigh effaced.</p> + +<p>"Certainly—yes, <i>certainly</i>! your dear father—<i>what</i> a wise man he is! +he <i>has</i> such a profound knowledge of medicine and surgery—all those +things—so prudent, so careful! Still, a woman is a treasure, you +know—a good, sensible, efficient woman is a <i>host</i>—oh, yes, in a +sick-room. This boarding-house keeper, now—she's just such a person, I +<i>dare</i> say—elderly, sober, experienced—a married woman, probably, with +a large family, no doubt? Abbie, Abbie! what <i>did</i> you say her last name +was, my love?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia was so much amused at the idea of Abbie's being a married +woman with a large family that she did not observe how Aunt Margaret, +awaiting her answer, was all in a tremble. If she had not been laughing, +she could scarcely have helped seeing how the ear-trumpet shook as it +was presented to her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said she, "she's not married, Aunt Margaret—at least not now, +though I believe she's a widow, or something of that kind, you know—and +she hasn't any children at all! As to her other name, I don't know it, +and I believe hardly any one does. You see, she's one of that queer sort +of people; she's very quiet, and always grave, and nobody knows much +about her, except that she's very good, and has lived in the village for +twenty years and more. I believe, though, papa has met her before, or +knows something about her in some way; but he never says any thing to us +on the subject."</p> + +<p>This was all that could be got out of Cornelia upon the topic of Abbie, +and Mrs. Vanderplauck was obliged to swallow whatever uneasiness, +curiosity, or misgiving she may have felt. In the midst of an +exhortation to her young guest to repeat her visit daily to the boudoir, +and regale her auntie with anecdotes of the dear old, interesting people +in the village, Abbie and all, some one of the young ladies knocked at +the door, and hurried Miss Valeyon off, without her having asked, as +she had intended, for an explanation of the puzzling, metaphorical +allusions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vanderplanck, left to herself, rocked backward and forward in her +chair, with her hands clasped over her forehead, much in the way that an +insane person might have done.</p> + +<p>"Who'd have thought it! who'd have thought it! In the very +village—in the very house—of all places in the world!—in the very +house!—and he laid up—can't be moved—can't be taken away. Why didn't +I know?—why didn't I find out?—careless—stupid—thoughtless! Curse +the woman! couldn't I have imagined that she'd never be far away from +her dear professor—and we sent him there—we hid him away—we disguised +his name—college was too public for him—let him finish his +education in the country—and then we could escape away—to +Germany—France—anywhere—and carry all the money with us—all the +money!—half for me, and half for him!—and what'll become of it now? +Curse the woman! I knew she couldn't be dead. But she sha'n't have the +money—no! she sha'n't, she sha'n't!</p> + +<p>"Is it possible, now?—could it be that that girl was deceiving me? Did +she know the woman's name, after all?—no, no! she hasn't the face for +it—no hypocrite in her yet—not yet, not yet! Well, but what if it's +all a mistake?—Why not a mistake? why not?—tell me that! Plenty of +women called Abbie, aren't there? Why shouldn't this be one of them—one +of the others? No, but the professor had known her before—oh, +yes!—known her before! and there's only one Abbie that the professor +knew before! Curse her—curse her!</p> + +<p>"Well, what if she is there? how will she know <i>him</i>? The professor +won't tell her—he can't—he dare not tell her!—for I made him promise +he wouldn't, and I've got his promise, written down—written down!—Ah! +that was smart—that was smart! Yes, but the boy looks like his +father!—that'll betray him!—she'll know him by that—know him? well, +just as bad—yes, and worse too, in the end—worse! Oh! curse her!</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I know how to manage. If the worst comes to the worst, I +know what to do! And I must write to him—not now—as soon as he's +well—he must come away. Even if it should turn out all a mistake, he +must come away!—I'll write to him, as soon as he's well, that he must +come away. And I'll question Cornelia again—ah! she's a handsome +girl!—it's well I got her up here, out of the way!—I'll find out more +from her. It may be a mistake, after all—it may, it may!"</p> + +<p>While Aunt Margaret, sitting in her boudoir, thus took doubtful and +disconnected counsel with herself, Cornelia was left to manage her +little difficulties as best she might. Being tolerably quick in +observing, and putting things together, and unwilling to trust to +intuitive judgments of what was safe or unsafe in the moral atmosphere, +she set to work with all her wits, and not without some measure of +success, to fathom the secrets of the tantalizing freemasonry which +piqued her curiosity. By listening to all that was said, laughing when +others laughed, keeping silent when she was puzzled, comparing results +and drawing deductions, she presently began to understand a good deal +more than she had bargained for, was considerably shocked and disgusted, +and perhaps felt desirous to unlearn what she had learned.</p> + +<p>But this was not so easy. Things she would willingly have forgotten +seemed, for that very reason, to stick in her memory—nay, in some moods +of mind, to appear less entirely objectionable than in others. She had +little opportunity for solitude—to bethink herself where she stood, and +how she came there. During the daytime, there were the young ladies, +here, there, and everywhere; there could be no seclusion. In the +afternoons and evenings some admiring, soft-voiced young gentleman was +always at her side, offering her his arm on the faintest pretext, or +attempting to put it round her waist on no pretext at all; who always +found it more convenient to murmur in her ear, than to speak out from a +reasonable distance; whose hands were always getting into proximity with +hers, and often attempting to clasp them; whose eyes were forever +expressing something earnest or arch, pleading or romantic—though +precisely what, his lingering utterance scarcely tried to define; who +never could "see the harm" of these and many other peculiarities of +behavior; and, indeed it was not very easy to argue about them, although +the young gentlemen never shrank from the dispute, and never failed to +have on hand an inexhaustible assortment of syllogisms to combat any +remonstrance that might be advanced withal; while at the worst they +could always be surprised and hurt if their conduct were called into +question. Well, they appeared to be refined and high-bred. Compare them +with Bill Reynolds! And the flattery of their attention, and the +preference they gave her over the other girls, were not entirely lost +upon Cornelia.</p> + +<p>In the absence of both gentlemen and ladies, there, on an +easily-accessible shelf in the library, were those works of Dumas, +Féval, and the rest, to which Cornelia's attention had been indirectly +invited. She had a sound knowledge of the French language, and an +ardent love of fiction, and beyond question the books were of absorbing +interest.</p> + +<p>At first, indeed, Cornelia, as she read, would ever and anon blush, and +look around apprehensively, for fear there should be an observer +somewhere; and this, too, at passages which a week before she would have +passed over without noticing, because not understanding them. If any one +appeared, she hid the book away in the folds of her dress, or under the +sofa-cushion, and put on the air of having just awakened from a nap. +By-and-by, however, when she had become a little used to the tone of the +works, and had asked herself, what were the books put there for, unless +to be read, she plucked up courage, as her young friends would have +said—albeit angels might have wept at it—and overcame her notions so +far as to be able to take down from its shelf and become deeply +interested in one of the Frenchiest of the set, while three or four +people were sitting in the library!</p> + +<p>A triumph that! Howbeit, when she went to bed that night there was a +persistent pain of dry unhappiness in her heart, and a self-contemptuous +feeling, which she tried to get the better of by calling it <i>ennui</i>. But +in time a kind of hardness, at once flexible and impenetrable, began to +encase her, rendering her course more easy, less liable to +embarrassment, more self-confident than before.</p> + +<p>At length a crisis was brought on by the attempt of the boldest of her +admirers to kiss her. She repelled him passionately, facing him with +gleaming eyes, and lips white with anger and disgust. He was surprised, +at first—then angry; but she spoke to him in a way that cowed, and +finally almost made him ashamed of himself. He even went so far, +afterward, as to try to knock a fellow down for speaking disrespectfully +of "Neelie." For her own part, she locked herself into her room, and +cried tempestuously for half an hour; then she spent a still longer time +in lying with her heated face upon the pillow, reviewing the incidents +of her life since Bressant had entered into it. He was the superior of +any man she had met before or since: she was sure of it now; it could no +longer be called the infatuation of inexperience. She took herself well +to task for the recent laxity and imprudence of her conduct; did not +spare to cut where the flesh was tender; and resolved never again to lay +herself open to blame.</p> + +<p>This was very well, but the mood was too strained and exalted to be +depended upon. Cornelia got up from the disordered bed, put it to rights +again, washed her stained face carefully, rearranged her hair, and went +down-stairs. All that afternoon she was cold, grave, and reserved; +inquiries after her health met with a chilling answer, and her friends +wisely concluded to leave her malady, whatever it were, to the cure of +time. As dinner progressed, Cornelia began to thaw: when Mr. Grumblow, +the member of Congress, requested her, with solemn and oppressive +courtesy, to do him the honor of taking a glass of wine with him, she +responded graciously; and as the toasts circulated, she first looked +upon her ideal resolves with good-humored tolerance, and then they +escaped her memory altogether. She became once more lively and +sparkling, and carried on what she imagined was a very brilliant +conversation with two or three people at once. By the time she was +ready to retire, she had practised anew the whole list of her +lately-abrogated accomplishments; and she wound up by picking the French +novel out of the corner into which she had disdainfully thrown it twelve +hours before, reading it in bed until she fell asleep, and dreaming that +she was its heroine. And yet she had not forgotten to wind up Bressant's +watch, and put it in its usual place under her pillow.</p> + +<p>It might seem strange that his memory should not have kept her beyond +the reach of deleterious influences. But a young girl's love is any +thing but a preservative, if it shall yield her, in any aspect, other +than such pure and delicate thoughts as she would not scruple to whisper +in her mother's ear, or to ask God's blessing on at night. Should there +be any circumstance or incident, however seemingly trifling and +unimportant, in her reminiscences, which nevertheless keeps recurring to +the mind with a slight twinge of regret—a feeling that it would have +been just as well had it never happened—then is love a dangerous +companion. Gradually does the trifling spot grow upon her; in trying to +justify it, she succeeds only in lowering the whole idea of love to its +level; and this once accomplished, in all future intercourse with her +lover she must be undefended by the shield of her maidenly integrity. +And not all men are great enough not to presume on woman's weakness, +even though it be that woman, to assert whose honor and purity they +would risk their lives against the world.</p> + +<p>Some such quality of earthiness Cornelia may have felt in the course of +her acquaintance with Bressant, preventing her love from ennobling and +elevating her. Alas! if it were so. If she cannot draw a high +inspiration from the affection which must be her loftiest sentiment, +what shall be her safeguard, and who her champion?</p> + +<p>In the course of ten days or a fortnight, Aunt Margaret announced that +the condition of her head would admit of traveling, and the +long-expected tour began. But the more important consequences of +Cornelia's fashionable experiences had already taken place.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>SOPHIE'S CONFESSION.</h3> + + +<p>Sophie did not stay long in the invalid's room after the awakening they +had undergone with respect to one another. She went instinctively to her +father's study, and, entering the open door, kissed the old man ere he +was well aware of her presence. He took her affectionately upon his +knee, and hugged her up to him with homely tenderness.</p> + +<p>"My precious little daughter!" quoth he; "what would your old father do +without you?"</p> + +<p>"Am I so much to you, papa?" asked she, with her cheek resting upon his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Very much—very much, Sophie: too much, perhaps; for I don't see how I +could bear to lose you."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to have me die, papa?"</p> + +<p>"How is your sick boy getting along?" returned the professor, clearing +his throat, and not seeming to hear his daughter's words.</p> + +<p>Sophie caught a breath, and paled a little at the thought of the news +she had to tell about the sick boy. Her father had just told her she was +precious to him, and she felt that to be married might involve a +separation virtually as complete as that of death, and perhaps harder to +bear. But, again, she needed his sympathy and approval: and, sooner or +later, he must hear the truth. She was not, perhaps, aware that +etiquette should have closed her lips upon the subject until after +Bressant had spoken to the professor; at all events, she had no +intention of delegating or postponing her confidence.</p> + +<p>"He seemed quite well when I left him. I have been having a—talk with +him, papa."</p> + +<p>"He begins to show the effects of being talked to by you, my dear. +You're a wise little woman in some ways, that's certain! and have done +him good in more ways than one," said papa, with parental complacency.</p> + +<p>Sophie shrank at this, remembering how lately she had fed herself with +the same idea. She had learned a great deal about herself since +discovering how little of herself she knew.</p> + +<p>"He is a—man!" said she, trying to throw into the word an expression of +its best and loftiest meaning. "I can do very little to help him."</p> + +<p>"Hope to see him a man some day, my dear," returned the professor, +gathering his eyebrows. "Has a great many faults at present. Why, in +some respects, he's as ignorant and inexperienced as a child. Very +one-sided affair still, I fear, that soul of his!"</p> + +<p>"One-sided, papa?"</p> + +<p>"Yes: don't believe it would carry him very far toward heaven, as it is +now," said the old gentleman, whose severity of judgment was cultivated +in this instance as a preservative against possible disappointment. "He +needs melting in a crucible."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?"</p> + +<p>"If you weren't a wise little woman, as I said, I shouldn't be talking +about my pupil's character and management with you, my dear. But I can +trust you as well as if you were forty;" and here he gave her another +little hug, which made Sophie feel like a receiver of stolen goods. +"Well, now, theorizing won't do a young fellow like that much good. He +needs something real—that he can take hold of, and that'll take hold of +him. You and I can't give it him—not more than an impetus in the right +direction, at any rate. But the only thing that can make his future +tolerably secure—make it safe to count upon him (or upon any other man, +for that matter), is for him to fall heartily and soundly in love, in +the old-fashioned way, and with a strong-hearted, worthy woman."</p> + +<p>"O papa! do you really think marriage will help him to be greater and +better?"</p> + +<p>"It's the only thing for him, my dear," said Professor Valeyon; and, +although he was looking his guilty little daughter straight in the face, +and at such short range, too, this would-be sharp-sighted old man of +wisdom never thought to ask himself why she blushed so. "As soon as he +gets well again, I must see to getting him somewhere where he can have a +chance to profit by what we have done for him."</p> + +<p>"Papa," said Sophie, sitting up, and stroking the old gentleman's white +beard, "you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you think that to +love and to be loved will be good for him."</p> + +<p>"So anxious to get rid of him, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No; oh! papa, don't you see? it's because—because I <i>never</i> want to +get rid of him!" and Sophie, catching her father suddenly around the +neck, hid her face in his linen coat-collar.</p> + +<p>The professor, his features discharged of all expression, sat +stone-still, looking straight before him. Had Death been embracing him, +instead of his daughter, he could hardly have been struck more +motionless. Existence, spiritual as well as physical, seemed for a space +to have come to a stand-still.</p> + +<p>By-and-by, startled at his silence, Sophie raised her head and looked at +him with alarmed eyes. With an effort, he turned his face toward her, +and smiled as naturally as though his mouth had been frozen.</p> + +<p>"I'm an old man, you see, my dear: a surprise like this makes me feel +it," he made shift to say, in an uncertain voice. "So—you're engaged to +each other?"</p> + +<p>"We're waiting for you to say we may be, papa."</p> + +<p>"It is right—it is just!" said the professor, solemnly, though still +with a sluggish utterance. "I sought to glorify God to the end of mine +own glorification, and lo! He hath taken from me my own heart's blood!" +Swept off his feet by the profundity of his emotion, the ministerial +form of speech, so long disused, rose naturally to the old man's lips.</p> + +<p>But presently, the paralyzing effect of the shock beginning to wear off, +he drew a few long breaths, and found himself growing very hot. He took +out his handkerchief and wiped away the perspiration that had gathered +on his forehead. Then he took his little daughter strongly yet +tremblingly to his heart, and kissed her more than once.</p> + +<p>"God bless you! my darling—my Sophie—you're my Sophie still, if you +are in love with that—great overgrown rascal. I'm a fool—an old fool! +Well—and how long has this been going on between you, my darling?"</p> + +<p>Sophie's heart, which, in the passionate tumult of her recent interview +with her lover, had remained so steady and unfaltering, began now to +beat with such violence as to impede her utterance and visibly to shake +her. She was resolved to show herself to her father even as she was.</p> + +<p>"I hardly can say how long, papa—I think—I think it must have been +a—a long time—at least, on my side. Oh! I have been so false—so false +to myself, and so unwomanly! I have courted him, papa—<i>I</i>, papa—think +of it! I've thrown myself in his way, and—and made him interested in +me; and talked to him about things that—no one but his mother, or you, +should have done. Poor fellow!—I've forced myself upon him, papa. I +took advantage of his illness and helplessness, and pretended all the +time I was thinking only of his spiritual welfare, and—and not of—of +any thing else. That was the wickedest part. And yet, somehow, I +deceived myself too—or, rather, I wouldn't see the truth: and I didn't +know—papa, I really believe I didn't know that I—loved him, till +he—till he began to speak of it; then it seemed suddenly to fill all my +heart, as if it had always lived there. For I succeeded, papa: I've won +his love, and, oh! he loves me so! he loves me so! and so I've found my +punishment in my happiness. God is so just and good. The happier his +love makes me, you see, the more I shall be humbled to think how it +became mine. It is well for me, for I was proud and reserved and full of +self-conceit. And you really think it will not hurt him to love me, and +to have me love him, papa?"</p> + +<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" growled the old gentleman, testily; "hurt him!"</p> + +<p>But the professor was really a very wise man, in spite of his occasional +blindness; and he refrained from showing Sophie the exaggeration and +distortion which marked the view she took of her conduct. He saw it +would involve lowering the high integrity of her ideal conceptions +respecting delicacy and honor—hardly worth while, merely for the sake +of explaining the distinction between a trifling piece of self-deception +and mistaken vanity, and the severe and unrelenting sentence which +Sophie had passed upon herself. Meanwhile, every word she had uttered +had been an indirect, but none the less telling blow upon a sore place +in his own conscience. It was long since Professor Valeyon had stood so +low in his own self-esteem.</p> + +<p>They sat awhile in silence, Sophie nestling up to her father as if +seeking protection from the very love that had come to her; and he +sighed, and sighed again, and coughed, and pulled his nose and his +beard, and finally blew his nose. Then, depositing Sophie upon her feet, +he got slowly up, stretched himself, and went for his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Run off, my dear. Go up in your room, or out in the garden, or +somewhere. I must be alone a little while, you know; must think it all +over, and see how things stand. Besides, I must step in and see this +fellow who's going to rob me of my daughter, and tell him what I think +of him. Come, off with you!"</p> + +<p>"You'll be happy about it—you'll forgive us, won't you, papa?" she +said, turning at the door.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman shuffled heavily up to her, and kissed her on the +forehead.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, and God's will be done, my darling!" said he; but at +that moment he could say no more.</p> + +<p>An hour afterward, however, when the professor knocked the ashes out of +his second pipe, and laid his hand upon the latch of Bressant's door, +the expression upon his strongly-cut features was neither gloomy nor +severe. There was a look in his eyes of benignant sweetness, all the +more impressive because it made one wonder how it could find a place +beneath such stern eyebrows and so deeply lined a forehead. But, cutting +off an offending right hand, although a bitter piece of work enough for +the time being, may, in its after-effect, work as gracious a miracle in +an older and more forbidding gentleman even than Professor Valeyon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>A FLANK MOVEMENT.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant was lying comfortably upon his bed with his eyes closed; no one +would have imagined there had been any outburst or convulsion of passion +in his mental or emotional organism. He breathed easily; there was a +pale tint of red in his cheeks, above his close, brown beard; his +forehead was slightly moist, and his pulse, on which the surgeon laid +his finger with professional instinct, beat quietly and regularly. In +entering upon the world of love, all marks of wounds received upon the +journey seemed to have passed away.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes at the professor's touch, and fixed them upon the old +gentleman in such a serene stare of untroubled complacency as one +sometimes receives from a baby nine months old.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir"—the professor, from some subtle delicacy of feeling +respecting the prospective change in their relationship, adopted this +form of address in preference to that more paternal one he had been in +the habit of using since Bressant's accident—"well, sir, how do you +find yourself now?"</p> + +<p>"Much better; I shall soon be well now. I feel differently from ever +before—very light and full here," said the young man, indicating the +region of his heart.</p> + +<p>"I've seen Sophie," observed Professor Valeyon, after a somewhat long +silence, which Bressant, who had calmly closed his eyes again, showed no +intention of breaking.</p> + +<p>"Sophie and I love each other," responded he, meditatively, and rather +to himself than to the father. The latter could not but feel some +surprise at the untroubled confidence the young man's manner displayed. +Before he could put his thought into fitting words, the other spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking, I should like to marry her."</p> + +<p>"You'd like to marry her?" repeated the old gentleman, with a mixture of +sternness and astonishment, his forehead reddening. "What else do you +suppose I expected, sir?"</p> + +<p>Bressant turned over on his side, and regarded him with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Do all people who love each other, or because they love each other, +marry?" demanded he.</p> + +<p>For a moment, the professor seemed to suspect some latent satire in this +question; but the young man's face convinced him to the contrary.</p> + +<p>"In many marriages, there's little love—true love—on either side; +that's certain," said he, passing his hand down his face, and looking +grave. "But marriage was ordained for none but lovers."</p> + +<p>"The reason I want to be married to Sophie is because I love her so much +I couldn't live without her," resumed Bressant, as if stating some +unusual circumstance.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" ejaculated the professor, partly amused and partly puzzled.</p> + +<p>Bressant rubbed his forehead, and fingered his beard awhile, and then +continued:</p> + +<p>"We've been reading poetry lately, and romances, and such things. I used +to think they were nonsense—good for nothing; because they came out so +beautifully, and represented love to be so great an element in the +world. But now I see they were not good enough; they are much below the +truth; I mean to write poetry and romances myself!"</p> + +<p>This tickled Professor Valeyon so much, that he burst out in a most +genuine laugh. The intellectual animal of two or three months before +seemed to have laid aside all claims to what his brain had won for him, +and to be beginning existence over again with a new object and new +materials. And had Bressant indeed been a child, the succession of his +ideas and impulses could hardly have been more primitive and natural.</p> + +<p>"What's to become of our Hebrew and history, if you turn poet?" inquired +the old gentleman, still chuckling.</p> + +<p>Bressant turned his head away and closed his eyes wearily. "I don't want +any thing more to do with that," said he. "Love is study enough, and +work enough, for a lifetime. Mathematics, and logic, and philosophy—all +those things have nothing to do with love, and couldn't help me in it. +It's outside of every thing else: it has laws of its own: I'm just +beginning to learn them."</p> + +<p>"A professional lover! well, as long as you recognize the sufficiency of +one object in your studies, you might do worse, that's certain. But you +can't make a living out of it, my boy."</p> + +<p>"I don't need money, I have enough; if I hadn't, money-making is for +men without hearts; but mine is bigger than my head; I must give myself +up to it."</p> + +<p>"That won't do," returned the professor, shaking his head. "Lovers must +earn their bread-and-butter as well as people with brains. Besides," +here his face and tone became serious, "there's one thing we've both +forgotten. This matter of your false name—you can't be married as +Bressant, you know: and if the tenure of your property depends, as you +said, on preserving the <i>incognito</i>, I have reason to believe that you +stand an excellent chance of losing every cent of it, the moment the +minister has pronounced your real name."</p> + +<p>"No matter!" said the young man, with an impatient movement, as if to +dismiss an unprofitable subject. "I shall have Sophie; my father's will +can't deprive me of her. I don't want to be famous, nor to have a great +reputation—except with her."</p> + +<p>The old man was touched at this devotion, unreasonable and impracticable +though it was. He laid his hand kindly on the invalid's big shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't say but that a wife's a good exchange for the world, my boy; +I'm glad you should feel it, too. But when you marry her, you promise to +support her, as long as you have strength and health to do it. It's a +natural and necessary consequence of your love for her"—and here the +professor paused a moment to marvel at the position in which he found +himself—stating the first axioms of life to such a man as this pupil of +his; "and you should be unwilling to take her, as I certainly should be +to give her, on any other terms. If your hands are empty, you must at +any rate be able to show that they won't always continue so."</p> + +<p>"Well, but I don't want to think about that just now; I can be a farmer, +or a clerk; I can make a living with my body, if I can't with my mind; +and I can write to Mrs. Vanderplanck, some time, and find out just how +things are."</p> + +<p>"Very well—very well! or perhaps I'd better write to her +myself—well—and as long as you are on your back, there'll be no use in +troubling you with business—that's certain! And perhaps things may turn +out better than they look, in the end."</p> + +<p>As Professor Valeyon pronounced this latter sentence, he smiled to +himself pleasantly and mysteriously. He seemed to fancy he had stronger +grounds for believing in a happy issue, than, for some reason, he was at +liberty to disclose. And the smile lingered about the corners of his +mouth and eyes, as if the issue in question were to be of that +peculiarly harmonious kind usually supposed to be reserved for the +themes of poems, or the conclusions of novels.</p> + +<p>"I never was interested to hear of the every-day lives of men who have +loved, and wanted to make their way in the world; for I never expected I +should be such a man. Now, I'm sorry; it would have been useful to me, +wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it might," responded the old gentleman, musing at the change in +the attitude of the young man's mind—once so self-sufficient and +assertive, now so dependent and inexperienced. "Very few lives are bare +and empty enough not to teach one something worth knowing. I know the +events of one man's life," he added, after a few moments of thoughtful +consideration; "perhaps it might lead to some good, if I were to tell +them to yon."</p> + +<p>"Did he marry a woman he loved?" demanded Bressant.</p> + +<p>"You can judge better of that when you hear what happened before his +marriage," returned the professor, apparently a little put out by the +abruptness of the question. "He made several mistakes in life; most of +them because he didn't pay respect enough to circumstances; thought that +to adhere to fixed principles was the whole duty of a man: nothing to be +allowed to the accidents of life, or to the various and unaccountable +natures of men, their uncertainty, fallibility, and so on. One of the +first resolutions he made—and he's never broken it, for when he grew +wise enough to do so, the opportunity had gone by forever—was never to +leave his native country. He wanted to prove to himself, and to +everybody else whom it might concern, that a man of fair abilities might +become learned and wise, without ever helping himself to the good things +that lay beyond the shadow of his native flag. 'The majority of people +have to live where they are born,' was his argument; 'I'll be their +representative.' Well, that would seem all well enough; but it stood in +his way twice—each time lost him an opportunity that has never come +again—the opportunity to be distinguished, and perhaps great; and the +opportunity to have a happy home, and a luxurious one. It was better for +him, no doubt, that his life was a hard and disappointed one, instead +of—as it might have been; he's had blessings enough, that's certain; +but he has much to regret, too; the more, because the ill effects of a +man's folly and willfulness fall upon his friends quite as often, and +sometimes more heavily, than upon himself.</p> + +<p>"He was a poor man in college, and an orphan. The property of his family +had been lost in the War of 1812; from then till he was twenty-one, he +had followed a dozen trades, and saved a couple of hundred dollars; and +he'd picked up book-learning enough to enter the sophomore class. The +first thing he did was to make a friend; he loved him with his whole +heart; thought nothing was too good for him, and so on. He and his +friend led the class for three years; and up to the time of the last +examination, he was first and his friend second. In the examination they +sat side by side; one question the friend couldn't answer; the other +wrote it out for him; after the examination the two papers were found to +be alike in the answer to that question, and the friend was summoned +before the faculty, and asked if he had copied it. He denied it—said it +had been copied from him; so he took the first rank in graduating, and +the other was dropped several places."</p> + +<p>"What became of their friendship after that?" inquired Bressant.</p> + +<p>"He I'm telling you of never knew any thing of what his friend had done +till long afterward. Well, the faculty and some of the wealthy patrons +of the university determined to send the first scholar abroad, to finish +his education: he accepted the offer eagerly, and sailed for Europe, +without bidding his friend good-by. Afterward, the faculty made the same +offer to him, on the consideration that he had stood so well, during his +course, until the examination. But he declined it: it was contrary to +his principle of never leaving his country."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a man was the friend?" asked Bressant, who was paying +close attention, with his hand at his ear.</p> + +<p>"Clever, with a winning manner, and fine-looking; had a pleasant, easy +voice; never lost his temper that I know of." The professor paused, +perhaps to arrange his ideas, ere he went on. "The man I'm telling you +of left the college-yard with as much of the world before him as lies +between the fifteenth and twenty-fifth parallels of latitude, and the +Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. He'd made up his mind to be a physician; +and in a year he was qualified to enter the hospital; worked there four +years, and, by the time he was twenty-nine, he had an office of his own +and a good practice.</p> + +<p>"At last, he fell in love with a beautiful woman; she was the daughter +of one of his patients—a Southerner with a little Spanish blood in him. +The young doctor had—under Providence—saved the man's life; and, since +he himself came of a good family—none better—and had a respectable +income, there wasn't much difficulty in arranging the match. The only +condition was, that the father should never be out of reach of his +daughter, as long as he lived."</p> + +<p>"Was this Southerner rich?"</p> + +<p>"Very rich; and a dowry would go with the daughter enough to make them +more than independent for the rest of their lives. Well, just about that +time, the friend who had gone to Europe came back. He'd done well +abroad, and-was qualified for a high position at home. He was engaged to +marry a stylish, aristocratic girl, who was not, however, wealthy. But +he seemed very glad to see the doctor, and the doctor certainly was to +see him, and invited him to stay at his house a while, and he introduced +him into the house of his intended wife."</p> + +<p>Here the professor broke off from his story, and, getting up from his +chair, he passed two or three times up and down the room; stopping at +the window to pull a leaf from the extended branch of a cherry-tree +growing outside, and again, by the empty fireplace, to roll the leaf up +between his finger and thumb, and throw it upon the hearth. When he +returned to the bedside, he dropped himself into his chair with the +slow, inelastic heaviness of age.</p> + +<p>"The fellow played him a scurvy trick," resumed he, presently. "Exactly +what he said or did will never be known, but it was all he safely could +to put his friend in a bad light. It was because he wanted the young +lady for himself; he was ambitious, and needed her money to help him on. +What he said made a good deal of impression on the father; but the +daughter wouldn't believe it then—at any rate, she loved the doctor +still, and would, as long as she knew he loved her."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't the other manage to make her think he didn't?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, he did manage it," returned the professor, compressing his +white-bearded lips, and lowering his eyebrows. "He told the father some +story of having met relations of his in Spain; told him the climate +would cure him of all his ailments, without need of a physician, and +persuaded him to make the journey at last. The doctor heard of it first +by a note written by his intended father-in-law. It contained no +request nor encouragement to accompany them—of course, the daughter was +to go too; her father wouldn't separate from her. But the doctor's +friend had not trusted only to that: he knew that the other's resolution +never to leave his country was not likely to be broken, so he was quite +secure."</p> + +<p>"And the doctor knew nothing of how his friend was cheating him?"</p> + +<p>"No, not then. Far from it; he showed him the letter, and asked him for +advice. He never dreamed of doubting his constancy, either to himself or +to the girl he was engaged to marry. His friend counseled him to write a +letter to her he meant to make his wife, explaining his position, and +asking her not to leave him. He would carry it to her, and advocate it +himself, he said, and do all in his power to influence the father. The +young doctor didn't altogether relish this course, nevertheless he +trusted in his friend, wrote the letter, and gave it into his hands.</p> + +<p>"He never saw his friend after that day. The next morning came an answer +from the young lady—a cruel and cold rejection of him—repudiation of +his love, and a doubt of his honor. It bewildered him, and, for a time, +crushed him. Long afterward, he found out that she had never seen the +letter he wrote, but a very different one, of his friend's concoction.</p> + +<p>"Very soon afterward, they were gone—all three! and, before a year was +passed, he heard that his friend and the daughter were married, and the +father died of a fever contracted in Spain.</p> + +<p>"He tried to go on as usual for several months, but it was no use. At +last, he left his practice, and all his connections, and wandered over +the United States—through towns and wildernesses. He rode across the +plains on a mustang; clambered through the gorges of the Rocky +Mountains; saw the tide come in through the Golden Gate at San +Francisco. He pushed north as far as Canada, and thence came down the +Mississippi to New Orleans. From there he crossed to the Pacific coast +again, and lived to find himself a second time in San Francisco. He +didn't stay there long, but struck overland, slanting southward, and, in +four or five months, appeared at Charleston, South Carolina. So he +worked up the Atlantic coast to New York. By the time he got there, he +was older and wiser, and strengthened, body and mind, by a rough +experience. He resolved to travel no more; but, as yet, it was not in +his power to feel happy.</p> + +<p>"Much had happened in his absence. His friend, after living three or +four years with his wife in Europe, was separated from her—not, +however, by a regular divorce—and she had disappeared, and had not +since been heard of. It was reported that she was dead. She had left +with her husband a son, two or three years old, at that time a sickly +little fellow, scarcely expected to live. It was supposed that the +mother had discovered that it was her money, and not herself, that her +husband cared for, and, perhaps, too, may have imagined him to be still +thinking of his first love, who, indeed, was said to have in some way +fomented the quarrel between them, though how, or to what end, was never +known. She, by-the-way, after an absence of some years from New York, +suddenly reappeared there, and married a wealthy old Knickerbocker, who +died not long afterward, and left her his property. She became eminent +in society, and was intimate with all the most distinguished people. Her +former lover returned from Europe, with his little son, and, I believe, +settled somewhere in the neighborhood of New York. They met, and, I +understand, came to be on very friendly terms with one another, but the +conditions of their lives would have prevented the possibility of +marriage, even had they desired it.</p> + +<p>"Well, it was before the old Knickerbocker's death that he I am telling +you of first arrived in the city. He gave up medicine, and devoted +himself to other studies; and, in the course of a few years, he found +himself occupying the chairs of History and of Science at the University +of New York. He also paid some attention to politics, and became, for a +while, a person of really considerable renown and distinction. He was +respected by the most influential persons in the city. Among the rest, +he became acquainted with the widow—as she was by this time—of the +Knickerbocker—and she showed him every kindness and attention. But he +did her the injustice of not believing her kindness genuine; he imagined +that she cared for nothing but fashion and display, and was polite to +him only because she thought he would add a little to her drawing-rooms. +At length, a sudden weariness of his mode of life coming over him, he +resigned his public positions, and his professorships, and took lodgings +in the family of a poor clergyman in Boston. While there, he took up the +study of divinity, and, before long, was fully qualified for ordination. +But, at this time, he fell, all at once, dangerously ill, and lay at +death's door.</p> + +<p>"He owed his life to the care that the daughter of the clergyman took of +him. She was a sweet, gentle girl, a good deal younger than he; but she +grew to love him—perhaps because she had saved him from death. When he +recovered, they were married, and found a great deal of happiness; there +was no more passionate love, for him, of course; but he could feel +gratitude, and tenderness, and a steady and deep affection. They had two +children, and when they were five or six years old, the parents moved to +the country, and took a house in an out-of-the-way village."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" demanded Bressant, eying the professor's face with great +intentness.</p> + +<p>"There's not much more. One of the first persons the minister—such he +was now—met, on his entrance into the village, was the woman he had +loved first—the wife of his false friend—she whom he had long believed +dead. She had settled, several years before, in this place, whither he +had unawares followed her. In an interview—the first for nearly half a +lifetime—all the old errors and falsehoods were cleared up. She told +him how her husband's heartlessness and insolent indifference had made +her leave him; and how, for the sake of her son, and partly also out of +pride, she had made no attempt to repossess herself of the fortune with +which she had endowed her husband at their marriage. The hardest of all +had been to leave her son, whom she loved with her whole heart; but he +was sickly, and she dared not expose him to the chances of privation and +hardship, such as she expected to endure. With some three thousand +dollars in her pocket, she had come to America, and since then had +never heard a word of those she had left, nor had they of her.</p> + +<p>"About three years after his arrival, the minister's wife died. He took +his two children, and went with them to New York, where they staid +nearly a year; and the widow of the old Knickerbocker found them out, +and was as cordial as ever. But finally the minister decided to return +to his country dwelling, and there he still remains."</p> + +<p>As Professor Valeyon concluded, he looked toward his auditor, having +been conscious, especially during the latter part of the narrative, of +the peculiar magnetic sensation which the steady glance of the young +man's eyes produced.</p> + +<p>But at the same moment, Bressant turned his head away, and closed his +eyes, as if wearied by the strain which had been imposed upon his +attention. The old gentleman presently arose, and, after a moment's +hesitation, he apparently decided not to disturb or rouse his patient +any further. He could wait until another time for whatever discussion +yet remained. So he betook himself quietly to the door.</p> + +<p>He had nearly closed it when, thinking he heard a sudden call or +exclamation from within, he hastily reopened it, and looked into the +room. But the invalid showed no signs of having spoken. His position was +slightly changed, indeed, but his eyes were still closed, and his face +turned somewhat away from the door.</p> + +<p>"I must have been mistaken," said Professor Valeyon, as he shut himself +into the study. He walked to the table, and, resting one hand upon it, +stood for several moments with his head bent forward, thinking. As he +raised it, a sigh escaped him; nor was his countenance so serene as it +had been half an hour before.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>AN INTERMISSION.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant's recovery was now very rapid, as he had himself foretold. The +wedding was finally fixed for New-Year's Day at noon. They were to be +married at the Parsonage; afterward they might go South for two or three +months, but it was understood that they would return to the village +before settling permanently anywhere.</p> + +<p>"If there isn't room for us here, we can board at Abbie's; it would be +very pleasant, wouldn't it?" said Sophie; but Bressant made no +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon was getting on well beneath the weight of his +prospective loss. He indulged in as many comforting reflections as he +could. Cornelia would still be with him, and he loved her as much in one +way as Sophie in another. He seemed to think, too, that the bride and +groom would probably settle somewhere in the neighborhood. Again, he +felt a greater natural affection for Bressant than for any other young +man; what son-in-law, after all, would he have preferred to have? And +there may have been additional considerations equally pleasant in the +contemplation.</p> + +<p>Sophie was in her element; the loveliness and richness of her character +came out like a sweet, sustaining perfume. In love, all her faculties +found their fullest exercise. There was no doubt nor darkness in her +soul. Without looking upon her lover as an angel, she saw in him the +grand possibilities which human nature still possesses, and felt that +she might aid them somewhat to develop and flourish.</p> + +<p>As for Bressant, originally the least inclined of any of the circle to +be pensive and sombre, he now seemed occasionally to contend with +shadows of some kind. He was far from being habitually gloomy, but his +moods were not to be depended upon; sometimes a turn of the conversation +would seem to alter him; sometimes a word which he himself might utter; +sometimes a silence, which found him light-hearted, would leave him +troubled and restless. Sophie, so strong and trustful was her happiness, +never suspected that any thing more than the fretting of his sickness +was responsible for this, and, indeed, thought little about it at all; +for, after all, what was it compared to the full tide which swept them +both along in such an overmastering harmony?</p> + +<p>Within a week from the day of the engagement, a letter came from +Cornelia, speaking of her desire to be at home again, and further +intimating that she meant to return in a month at farthest. She did not +write with as much liveliness and light-heartedness as usual. Sophie +read the letter aloud to Bressant and her father as they sat in the +former's room on a cool August afternoon.</p> + +<p>"How surprised she will be to hear what has been going on!" said Sophie, +looking for Bressant to sympathize with her smile. "I'll write to her +this evening and tell her all about it." She paused to imagine +Cornelia's delight, astonishment, and playful dismay on learning that +her younger sister, whom nobody ever suspected of such a thing, was +going to be married, and to "that deaf creature," too, whom they had +discussed so freely only two months or so before. "She must know before +anybody," said Sophie; and the professor, as he rubbed his spectacles, +grunted in approval.</p> + +<p>But Bressant chewed his mustache, and said, hastily, the blood reddening +his face: "No, no! wait—wait till she comes back. She can know it +first, still; but you had better tell her with words. You can see, with +your own eyes, then, how—how it pleases her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true," said Sophie, half reluctantly. "Well?"</p> + +<p>Bressant lay silent, with a peering, concentrated look in his eyes, his +brows slightly contracted. He must have had an intuitive foreboding that +this matter of the two sisters would cause some difficulty, but he could +hardly as yet have had a distinct understanding of what jealousy meant.</p> + +<p>Howbeit, the lovers grew every day more intimate. In the earlier days of +her intercourse with him Sophie had felt an involuntary shrinking from +she knew not what, but this had been entirely overcome, partly by habit, +partly from an unconscious resolve on her part not to yield to it. The +quick, intelligent sympathy of her nature discerned and interpreted the +germs of new ideas and impulses which were struggling into life in +Bressant's mind; she translated to him his better part, and warmed it +with a flood of celestial sunshine.</p> + +<p>But the sun which makes flowers bloom brings forth weeds as well, and +it would not be strange if this awakening of Bressant's dormant +faculties should have also brought some evil to the surface which else +might never have seen the light.</p> + +<p>In the course of another week or so the invalid had so far improved as +to be able to leave his room, and make short excursions about the house, +and on to the balcony. The feverish and morbid symptoms faded away, and +the indulgence of a Titanic appetite began to bring back the broad, firm +muscles to arms, legs, and body. He felt the returning exhilaration of +boundless vitality and restless vigor which had distinguished him before +his accident.</p> + +<p>The summer was now something overworn; the sultry dregs of August were +ever and anon stirred by the cool finger of September. The leaves, +losing the green strength of their blood, changed color and fluttered, +wavering earthward from the boughs whereon they had spent so many +sociable months. The surrounding hills seen from the parsonage-balcony +took on subtle changes of tint; the patches of pine and evergreen showed +out more and more distinctly; the over-ripe grass in the valley lay in +lines of fragrant haycocks.</p> + +<p>Every day, in the garden, a greater number of red and yellow leaves +drifted about the paths, or scattered themselves over the flower-beds, +or floated on the surface of the fountain-basin. Little brown birds +hopped backward and forward among the twigs, with quick, jerking tails +and sideway, speculative heads; or upon the ground, pecking at it here +and there with their little bills, as if under the impression that it +was summer's grave, and they might chance to dig her up again. But once +in a while they got discouraged, and took a sudden, rustling flight to +the roof-tree of the barn, seemingly half inclined to continue on +indefinitely southward. Then, a reluctance to leave the old place coming +over them, they would dip back again on their elastic little wings, to +hop and peck anew.</p> + +<p>Bressant and Sophie were sitting one afternoon—it was in the first days +of September, and within less than a week of the time when they might +begin to expect Cornelia—upon the little rustic bench beside the +fountain. Their conversation had filtered softly into silence, and only +the flop-flop of the weak-backed little spout continued to prattle to +the stillness.</p> + +<p>"I don't like it!" exclaimed Bressant, stirring his foot impatiently. +"I'd rather put my whole life into one strong, resistless shooting +upward, even if it lasted only a minute."</p> + +<p>"The poor little fountain is happy enough," said well-balanced Sophie.</p> + +<p>"To do any thing there must sometimes be a heat and fury in the blood; +or a whirl and passion in the brain. Volcanoes reveal the earth's +heart!" returned he, sententiously.</p> + +<p>"They're very objectionable things though," suggested Sophie, arching +her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"They make beautiful mountains, whole islands, sometimes; in a man, they +show what stuff is in him. It would be better to commit a deadly crime +than to dribble out a life like that fountain's!"</p> + +<p>"Even to speak of sin's bringing forth good, is a fearful and wicked +thing," said Sophie; and, although tears rose to her eyes, her voice was +almost stern. "But you don't know what you say: only think, and you +will shudder at it."</p> + +<p>But Bressant was perverse. "I think any thing is better than to be +torpid. I'd rather know I could never hope for happiness hereafter, than +not have blood enough really to hope or despair at all."</p> + +<p>"Why do you speak so?" asked Sophie, with a look of pain in her grave +little face. "Do you fear any such torpor in your own life? My love, +this hasn't always been so."</p> + +<p>"I feel too much in me to manage, sometimes," said he, leaning forward +on his knees, and working in the sanded path with his foot. "I'm not +accustomed to myself yet: it will come all right, later. My health and +strength, too, so soon after my weakness—they intoxicate me, I think."</p> + +<p>Sophie looked at his broad back and dark curly head, and brown, short +beard, as he sat thus beside her, and she grew pale, and sighed, "It +isn't right, dear," said she, shaking her head. "There is a quiet and +deep strength—not demonstrative—that is better than any passion: it is +less striking, I suppose, but it recognizes more a Power greater than +any we have."</p> + +<p>"It's true—what you say always is true!" responded Bressant, throwing +himself back in the seat. "Sophie," he added, without turning his eyes +upon her, "if I shouldn't turn out all you wish, you won't stop loving +me?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't, I think, if I tried," replied she; and there was more of +regret than of satisfaction in her tone as she said it. "Or, if I could, +it would tear me all to pieces; and there would be nothing left but my +love to God, which is His already. All of me, except that, is love for +you."</p> + +<p>"God and heaven seem unreal—unsubstantial, at any rate—compared with +you," said Bressant, striking his hand heavily upon the arm of the +rustic bench. "My love for you is greater than for them!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop! hush!" cried Sophie, flinching back as if she had received a +mortal thrust. The light of indignation and repulse in her gray eyes was +awful to Bressant, and his own dropped beneath it. "Have you no respect +for your soul?" she continued, presently. "How long would such love +last? in what would it end? it would not be love—it would be the +deadliest kind of hate."</p> + +<p>Bressant rose to his feet, and made a gesture with his arms in the air, +as if striving by a physical act to regain the mental force and +equilibrium which Sophie had so unexpectedly overthrown. The mighty +strength and untamed vehemence of the man's nature were exhibited in the +movement. Sophie saw, in the vision of a moment, on how wild and stormy +a sea she had embarked, and for a moment, perhaps, she quailed at the +sight. But again her great love brought back the flush of dauntless +courage, and her trembling ceased. She became aware, at that critical +moment, that she was the stronger of the two; and Bressant probably felt +it also. He had put forth all his power in a passionate and convulsive +effort to prevail over the soul of this delicate girl, and he had been +worsted in the brief, silent struggle. He did not need to look in her +clear eyes to know it.</p> + +<p>His love must have been strong, indeed; for it stood the test of the +defeat. He sat down again, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation, +he held out his hand toward her. She put her own in it, with its +pressure, soft and delicately strong.</p> + +<p>"I can't reason about these things—I can only feel," said he. "You can +look into my heart if you will. Don't give me up: you can help me to see +it all as you do. Isn't it your duty, Sophie, if you love me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I will pray for you, my darling," she answered, almost sobbing in +the tenderness of her great heart, and laying her head upon his broad +shoulder. "I would not lose your love for all the world; but I feared +you might be led to something—something that would prevent your loving +either God or me. Promise me something, dear: if you are ever in trouble +or danger, and I'm not with you, come to me! No harm can reach us when +we're together. You need me, and I you."</p> + +<p>"I promise," replied Bressant.</p> + +<p>In the short silence that followed, Sophie heard, though Bressant could +not, a quick, excited, warbling voice calling her again and again by +name. She released herself from her lover's hold, and sprang up with a +cry of delight.</p> + +<p>Bressant, surprised and defrauded, was about to remonstrate; but ere the +words came, he saw Cornelia appear upon the balcony, and he sank back +and held his peace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN.</h3> + + +<p>Sophie went flitting up the garden-path toward the house, and in a +moment more the sisters were in one another's arms. Bressant, glad of +the concealment afforded by the shrubbery, remained gazing moodily at +the fountain, his head on his hand. The two girls entered the house, and +sat down in the professor's study, where the old gentleman (who had been +the first to meet Cornelia) sat enclouding himself with smoke, but +betraying no other symptom of his huge delight.</p> + +<p>"But how came you to get here so soon, you dear darling?" said Sophie, +looking with lighted eyes at her sister. "We thought it would be a week +at least."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless your heart, I couldn't wait, you know. So awfully tired I got +of seeing new things and people. Dear me!"—and Cornelia threw herself +back in her chair and uplifted her gloved hands in a little gesture of +ineffability—"you would never imagine what a bore society is, after +all."</p> + +<p>The professor, from his cloud, cast, unobserved, a glance of quiet +scrutiny at his daughter. A certain jaunty embroidery of tone and manner +struck him at once—she wasn't quite the same simple little woman who +had gone to New York two months ago. Well, well, they would wear off, +perhaps, these little affectations; and then, too, it was not to be +expected of her that she'd be a girl all her life. They all must needs +pass through this stage to something better—or worse: all women of pith +and passion like Cornelia.</p> + +<p>"How did you leave Aunt Margaret?" inquired he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>désolée</i>, because I would go away," replied Cornelia, with a very +pretty laugh. "She vowed she could have spared me much better six weeks +earlier; for, you see, after I'd learned the ropes, and how to take care +of myself, I became, as she expressed it, 'such a dear, sweet, +<i>invaluable</i> little <i>attachée</i>.'"</p> + +<p>Sophie laughed at the comical air with which her sister repeated the +sentence; yet, when her laugh was gone, there remained a slight shadow +of disappointment. She, too, was unwillingly aware of some alteration.</p> + +<p>"Is she such a grand lady as you expected?" asked she.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, grandeur's a humbug, let me tell you. Gracious! by the +time I'd been there a week, I could put it on as well as anybody. Aunt +Margaret, she was no end of a swell, and all that; but, as for +grandeur!—And she was such an odd old thing. Sometimes I seemed to like +her, and sometimes she almost made me faint. Once in a while I thought +she was trying to pump me about something; though, to be sure, there was +nothing in me to be pumped. I told her about Abbie, for one thing, as +much as I knew, and she seemed awfully interested—it was put on, I +suppose, very likely; and yet she really did seem to mean it. I remember +she couldn't get over my forgetting Abbie's last name: she even told me +to mention it the first time I wrote to her. So queer of the old +person."</p> + +<p>"No necessity for you to write, my dear," observed the professor at this +point. "I've been intending to do it myself for some time, and I'll +thank her for her hospitality, and so forth."</p> + +<p>Cornelia nodded, yawned, and then allowed her eyes to wander around the +room.</p> + +<p>"How nice and cozy and home-like every thing does look! And so small. +Why, I should almost believe I was looking through the small end of the +telescope, or something."</p> + +<p>"New York houses are so big, I suppose?" said Sophie.</p> + +<p>"Gracious, dear!" exclaimed Cornelia, laughing again. "Why, the very +cupboards are bigger than this whole house. It'll take me ever so long +to get over being afraid to knock my head against something when I stand +up."</p> + +<p>"You can sit out-doors until the weather gets too cold," observed the +professor. "The sky is as high here as in New York, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia ignored this remark with admirable self-poise. "Aunt Margaret +was asking a good deal about Mr. Bressant, too," said she. "She said +she'd only heard about him from you, papa; but I thought, sometimes, she +must be fibbing. Once in a while, you know, she acted just as if she had +forgotten having said she didn't know him. However, that's absurd, of +course. By-the-way, where is he? Here still?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. O Neelie dear, I have such news to tell you. But—yes, he's +out there by the fountain, I believe. Go out and speak to him, and then +come up to my room and hear the secret."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll be there directly;" and, springing from her chair with +a sudden overflow of animal spirits, drowning out the small growth of +affectation, the beautiful woman danced out upon the balcony, and down +the steps. Sophie went to her chamber, and the professor remained in his +study to indulge his own thoughts, which, by the way, appeared to be +neither light nor agreeable.</p> + +<p>As Cornelia neared the fountain, her steps grew more staid. The +clustering shrubbery hid Bressant from sight until she was close upon +him. She thought, perhaps, in the few moments that passed as she walked +down the path, of that other time when she had picked her way, in his +company, between the rain-besprinkled shrubs. Here was the same tea-rose +bush, and hardly a flower left upon it. Yes, here was one, full-blown, +to be sure, and ready to fall to pieces; but still, perhaps he would +smile and remember when he saw it in her bosom; or perhaps—and Cornelia +smiled secretly to herself at the thought—perhaps he needed no +reminder. He was sitting by the fountain now. What more likely than that +he was thinking over that first strange scene that had been enacted +between them there? Dear fellow! how he would start and redden with +pleasure when he saw her appear, in flesh and blood, in the midst of his +reverie! Cornelia blushed; but some of the loose petals of the overblown +rose in her bosom became detached, and floated earthward.</p> + +<p>All at once her heart began to beat so as to incommode her: she was +uncertain whether she was pale or red. It seemed to require all her +courage to get over the last few steps of garden-path that brought her +into view. What was it? A premonition? Now she saw him, as he sat with +his legs crossed, his head resting on his hand, turned away from her, +staring moodily before him.</p> + +<p>He did not look up until Cornelia stood almost beside him; then, become +aware of her presence, he leaped suddenly to his feet, and towered +before her, one hand grasping the fantastically-curved limb which +ornamented the back of the rustic seat.</p> + +<p>In the space that intervened while Cornelia, startled at his abrupt +movement, remained motionless in front of him, the piece of branch which +his hand held parted with a sharp crack. It broke the pause, and +Cornelia laughed.</p> + +<p>"You seem to be recovering your strength pretty well, if you can break +the limb of a tree short off just by laying your hand upon it! How do +you do? Aren't you glad to see me?" and she held out her hand with a +frankness not all real, for she felt a secret misgiving, and an +undefined fear.</p> + +<p>But the strain of Bressant's suspense was removed. He concluded that +either Cornelia had as yet heard nothing of his bond with Sophie, or +that, having heard it, it had not seriously affected her. Of the two +suppositions he was inclined to the first (and correct) one; but he kept +scanning her face with an uneasy curiosity. He took her hand, shook it, +and dropped it.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said he.</p> + +<p>They took their places side by side upon the bench. Cornelia felt a +great weight pressing heavily and more heavily upon her, crushing out +life and vivacity. This was not what she had expected; what did it +mean? was it indifference? was it aversion? could it—could it be an +uncouth way of showing joy? Poor Cornelia held her clasped hands in her +lap, and knew not what to say.</p> + +<p>When the silence had lasted so long that in another moment she must have +screamed, she chanced to remember the watch. It was ticking steadily in +her belt. She dragged it out, her hands feeling stiff and numb, and then +commanding herself by a not inconsiderable effort to speak naturally, +she put it in his hand, which he opened mechanically to receive it.</p> + +<p>"Here it is, all safe. You can't think how punctual I've learned to be +since I've had it. I got to be quite superstitious about winding it up; +but it did run down once—just about six weeks after I left. It was in +the forenoon, about eleven. I—I happened to be looking at it at the +time, and suddenly the second-hand began to go slower and slower, and at +last it stopped. You can't think how frightened I was. I couldn't help +thinking that something must have happened at home. I wrote to Sophie +that I would come home the same afternoon. Of course you know"—here +Cornelia interrupted the hurried and nervous flow of her words to force +a laugh—"of course it wasn't any thing but that I'd been up late +talking with Aunt Margaret, and had forgotten to wind it. It isn't out +of order or any thing."</p> + +<p>She was out of breath now, and had to pause. She would gladly have kept +on indefinitely, for the sake of avoiding another of those dreadful +silences.</p> + +<p>Bressant was not in the habit of paying much attention to coincidences, +but it happened to occur to him that the stoppage of the watch must have +taken place pretty nearly, if not exactly, at the time of his engagement +to Sophie, and the thought rendered his discomposure still more painful.</p> + +<p>"Won't you keep the watch?" said he at length.</p> + +<p>"Keep it?" repeated Cornelia, timidly, uncertain what might be coming +nest. Her breath went and came unevenly. "How can I keep it?" faltered +she. "They know—papa and Sophie know—that I haven't any such watch. +I—I have no right to keep it."</p> + +<p>She could hardly have spoken more plainly; indeed, she had been +surprised into speaking much more plainly than she intended. The moment +after her pride rebuked her, and made her cheeks burn with shame; and a +feeling of anger at having so betrayed herself put a sparkle into her +eyes. Bressant, looking at her, was stricken by the angry glow of her +beauty. It began to dazzle his reason, and bind his will. Their eyes met +fully for a moment; a world of fatal significance can sometimes be +conveyed by a glance. The extremity of his danger perhaps aroused the +young man to a realization of it. He stood up, and pressed one hand over +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"If you've no right to keep the watch, I've no right to give it you, I +suppose," said he, sullenly.</p> + +<p>"I owe you an apology, certainly, Mr. Bressant," exclaimed Cornelia, +interrupting what more he might have been going to say. She was tingling +to her fingertips with the intolerable anger of a woman who finds +herself rejected and befooled. "Really, I am surprised at myself for +persecuting you so relentlessly. Not satisfied with depriving you of +your timepiece for two whole months, I actually am unable to surrender +my—my ill-gotten booty without giving you an uncomfortable feeling that +I want to task your beneficence further yet. Well, I've not a word to +say for myself. I had no grudge to pay. I'm sure your conduct to me has +always been—most unexceptionably polite! The most charitable +explanation is, that I was crazy. I hope you'll consent to accept it; +and I do assure you that I'm perfectly sane now, and mean to keep so. +You needn't," she continued laughing, "you really needn't be afraid of +my persecutions any longer. I'm going to be as circumspect as—as you +are. Now, good-by for the present." She held out her hand with an air of +formal courtesy. "I promised Sophie I'd be back directly. I'll see you +at dinner, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>As she came to the good-by, Cornelia had risen from her seat; by the +action the remaining petals of the tea-rose had been shaken off, leaving +the nucleus bare and unprotected. Bressant's eyes fastened idly upon it, +but he said nothing, and did not move, Cornelia withdrew her unaccepted +hand, smiled, and, turning about, walked up the path to the house with +an easy and dignified grace, which was not so much natural as the +inspired result of passion.</p> + +<p>Bressant looked down at the watch in his hand, and saw it marking the +hour at which a dark epoch in his life began. He knelt on one knee by +the basin of the fountain—but not to pray. Grasping in one hand the +guard-chain of his watch, he dashed the watch itself two or three times +against the stone basin-rim. When it was completely shattered, he tossed +it into the water, and then rose lightly to his feet.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>PUTTING ON THE ARMOR.</h3> + + +<p>Sophie, in her room, was moving about hither and thither, ostensibly to +put things in order, but really to make the time before her sister's +appearance pass the easier. She was little given to the manifestation of +impatience; but now, so much did she long to pour out her heart to her +sister on the subject of her love; to speak with a freedom which she +could use to no one else—not even to Bressant himself—and to receive +the full and satisfying measure of sympathy which she felt that only +Cornelia could give her—dear, loving, joyous Cornelia!—so much did all +these things press upon her, that she found waiting a very tedious +affair.</p> + +<p>At last she heard Cornelia's step along the hall, and up the staircase. +It sounded more slow and listless than a few minutes before, as if she +were treading under the weight of a weary load. Now that she was out of +Bressant's eyeshot, the support afforded by her anger had given way, and +she felt very tired, very reckless, and rather grim. She entered +Sophie's open door, crossed the room heavily, and, with scarcely a +glance at her sister, threw herself plump into the chair by the window.</p> + +<p>"Poor child," thought Sophie; "she's so tired with that long journey; +but she'll be refreshed by what I have to tell her."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you're here," she continued, aloud. "I've never wanted any +one so much,-especially since the last two weeks. A great happiness has +come to me, dear, but I haven't been able fully to enjoy it, because I +couldn't tell you—they didn't want me to write. But I wouldn't tell any +one before you, nor let any one tell you but me, because I wanted to +enjoy your enjoyment all myself."</p> + +<p>Sophie had sat down at Cornelia's feet, upon a little wooden cricket +which stood in the window, and had taken one of her hands in both of +hers. Cornelia glanced down at her somewhat indifferently; she had +scarcely attended to what her sister had been saying. But the fathomless +expression of happiness upon Sophie's uplifted face struck through her +gloom and pain. She had never seen any thing like it before, and +probably at no moment of her life had Sophie's earthly content been so +complete.</p> + +<p>"I am engaged to be married," said she, a rose-colored flush spreading +over her cheeks. She delayed lovingly over the words—they were dear, +because they expressed such a world of happiness.</p> + +<p>Cornelia repeated the words stupidly. She felt as if she were rooted +beneath a rock, which was about to fall and crush her. Yet, resolutely +shutting her eyes to what she knew must come—to gain an instant's time +to breathe and brace herself—she asked, with an air of vivacious +interest, bending down, and studying Sophie's face the while—</p> + +<p>"Engaged, did you say? To whom, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to Mr. Bressant. Who else could it be?"</p> + +<p>Sophie spoke in a soft tone of gentle surprise, but the words rang in +Cornelia's brain as if they had been fired from a cannon. She closed her +eyes, and leaned back in her chair. The strings of her hat choked +her—she tore them apart, and the hat fell from her nerveless hand to +the floor. She strove to open her eyes and command herself, but her +sight was blurred and darkened, and her head dizzy.</p> + +<p>In a minute or two, however, she recovered herself sufficiently to be +aware that Sophie was alarmed about her. The imperative necessity not to +betray herself gave her a brief and superficial control. Her mind was in +confusion, and it was, perhaps, for this reason—because she could not +collect her faculties and analyze the situation—that she was enabled to +feel a gush of the natural, tender love for her sister—a joy in her +joy. Knowing that such a mood could not last long, she hastened to make +it available: she bent down, and put her arms around Sophie's neck.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad, darling! so happy! How splendid! isn't it? What a perfect +match! Ah, Sophie, I sympathize with you with all my heart. I couldn't +have wished you any thing better."</p> + +<p>This was doing very well. Her manner was a little exaggerated; her +speech was hurried, and almost mechanical. She avoided looking Sophie in +the face while the lies were coming out of her mouth (if they were real +lies, and not a bastard kind of truth, good while spoken, and the next +moment degenerating into falsehood). Notwithstanding these minor +defects, it was a very successful effort—excitement, and even vehement +emotion, were quite admissible in a warm-hearted girl who had her +sister's welfare nearly at heart, and much might be allowed to +surprise. Indeed, Sophie, though a good deal agitated, and even anxious, +was not in the least suspicious or dissatisfied. Such was the loyalty +and humility of her own nature, that much stronger grounds would have +failed to inspire misgivings.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were going to be ill, at first," she remarked, with a +loving smile. "Perhaps I told you too abruptly—did I? You see, I +thought you half knew it already—at least, that you suspected it—and, +then, to tell the truth, dear," added she, with a bright smile in her +eyes, "I didn't think you'd care so much—be so <i>very</i> glad, I mean. +There never was so sweet a sister as you."</p> + +<p>Cornelia felt that this must not go on any longer. She could feel her +cheeks getting hot, and her eyes bright—very little more, and there +would be an outburst. She must leave the room at all hazards, and be by +herself.</p> + +<p>She got up, and stood unsteadily, with her cold hand to her hot +forehead.</p> + +<p>"I believe I <i>don't</i> feel very well, Sophie. I think I must have a +little palpitation, or something. I've been awfully dissipated, and all +that, you know, with Aunt Margaret. I feel a little run down. Oh! it's +nothing serious. Don't tell papa! no—don't on any account. I'll just go +to my room, and lie down for half an hour. I shall be all right before +tea-time. You must tell me all the particulars afterward—not just this +moment. Don't mention any thing about me, you know, and don't let any +one come up. Good-by till supper, dear. <i>Au revoir</i>."</p> + +<p>She got out of the room, not very gracefully, probably, but still she +escaped. A few hurried and uneven steps down the entry brought her to +her own door. She burst it open, entered, and locked it behind her in +feverish haste. Then, with a miserable sense of luxury, she flung +herself on the bed, and was alone.</p> + +<p>Her first sensation, as soon as the tumult in her thoughts suffered her +to have any intelligent sensation at all, was one of secret pleasure and +relief. It was a surprise to herself—she even struggled against it, and +tried to convince herself that she was only miserable, but still the +sensation remained. Guilty or not, there it was, and she could not help +it. The news of Bressant's engagement to Sophie was a relief and a +pleasure to her.</p> + +<p>The real pain—hard and bitter, and with no redeeming grain of +consolation—had been the unexpected and unexplained change in his +manner. She had met him, anticipating a tender and delicious renewal of +the relations on which they had parted—the memory of which had never +left her during her absence, and which had grown every day sweeter and +more precious in the recollection. His silence and coldness, +unaccompanied by any show of reasons, had penetrated her soul like iron. +It could only be that she had become distasteful to him, that what he +had said and done before her departure had been in a spirit of +deliberate trifling, or, at the best, that it had been a mistake, of +which he had been convinced during their separation, and now wished to +correct. The pride and resentment that were in her had risen up in +defence, and, had the matter rested there, might ultimately have gained +the victory.</p> + +<p>But his engagement to Sophie—that was another story. In the first +place, if he loved her sister, it did not therefore follow that he +disliked her; quite the contrary. And, on the other hand, it readily +explained the restraint and embarrassment of his manner. How otherwise +could he have acted? Well—and was this all?</p> + +<p>Ah! no—not all! There was a tawny light in Cornelia's eyes as she lay +upon the bed, flushed and dishevelled. She was thinking of a +moment—that one little moment—when their glances had met, and +penetrated to a fatal depth. For a time, the ensuing events had swept it +from her memory; but now it returned, charged with a deeper and darker +meaning than Cornelia at present cared to recognize. She was satisfied +that it gave her comfort. She hid her thought away, as a miser does his +gold: it was enough that it had existence, and could be used when the +fitting hour should come. She had not seen the little episode of the +watch; but that was, perhaps, scarcely necessary.</p> + +<p>The intensity of the beautiful woman's reflections at length exhausted +her mind's power of maintaining them: she turned over on her side, and +began to follow with her eye the arabesques worked upon the white +counterpane. It was just the sort of occupation which suited her mood. +The arabesques were pretty and graceful; the counterpane was of +immaculate whiteness; there was just enough of effort in tracing out the +intricacies of the interlacements to give a gentle sensation of +pleasure; and there was the latent consciousness, behind this voluntary +trifling, that it could be exchanged at any moment for the most terribly +real and absorbing excitement.</p> + +<p>At length it occurred to her that time was passing, and the hour for tea +must be near at hand. She sat up on the bed, threw off her light sack, +and unbuttoned her boots. Going to the glass, she saw that her hair was +in disorder, and partly fallen down, and that one cheek was stamped with +the creases of the pillow. She pulled off her gloves, and looked +critically at her hands.</p> + +<p>"It'll never do to go down this way!" determined she. "I must make +myself decent."</p> + +<p>In half an hour more she was finished, and took a parting peep at +herself in the mirror. Cold water and a soft sponge had taken from her +face all traces of travel and emotion. Her dark, crisp hair was arranged +in marvelous convolutions, and from the white tip of each ear, peeping +out beneath, hung an Etruscan gold ear-ring, given her by Aunt Margaret. +Her cheeks were pale, but not colorless; her eyes glowed like a tiger's. +She was dressed in a black demi-toilet, relieved with glimpses of yellow +here and there; an oblong piece cut out in front revealed, through +softened edges of lace, the clear, smooth flesh of the neck and bosom. +The dream of a perfume hovered about her, and touched the air as she +moved. Her wide sleeve fell open, as she raised her arm, disclosing the +white curves, which were remarkably full and firm for one of her age.</p> + +<p>She gave a little laugh as she stood there that made the ear-rings +quiver, and parted her lips enough to show that her small white teeth +were set edge to edge.</p> + +<p>"It can't do any harm," was passing through her mind. "If I'm to be his +sister, he ought to like me. It's no use making him detest me. If he +loves Sophie so much, what harm can it do for him to be pleased with my +beauty? Besides, haven't I a right to my own good looks?"</p> + +<p>She kissed her fingers to her reflection, and made a deep courtesy. As +she did so, she caught sight of the little petal-less rose-stalk which +had fallen out of her traveling-dress on to the floor. She picked it up, +and, after turning it idly in her fingers for a moment, she yielded to a +sudden fancy, and fastened it into the bosom of her dress; so that this +symbol of a body from which the soul had departed formed the central and +crowning ornament of the voluptuous and lovely woman.</p> + +<p>"There!" ejaculated she, with a smile which did not part her lips, but +seemed to draw her dark eyebrows a little closer together.</p> + +<p>"Strange I'm so quiet!" she mused, as she walked slowly to the door. +"What an ordeal I have to go through! I must sit down with Sophie, and +papa, and—him: listen to all the particulars, ask all the proper and +necessary questions, smile and laugh; and it would be well, I suppose, +to rally the lovers archly on the ardor of their affection, and the +suddenness of the consummation. Better still, I can laughingly allude to +my own prior claim—suggest that I feel hurt at being distanced and left +out in the cold by that demure little younger sister of mine! Oh, yes!" +exclaimed Cornelia, clapping her hands together, "that will cap the +climax; what fun!"</p> + +<p>Here the tea-bell rang. Cornelia put her hand on the door-handle.</p> + +<p>"Of course, nobody could help loving Sophie—such a dear, simple, good +little thing! and why not he as well as any one else? and, of course, in +that case, Sophie must think that she loved him back—thought it her +duty, too, perhaps! Nobody was to blame."</p> + +<p>"But he was mine first!" she whispered to her heart, again and again, +and she found a disastrous solace in each repetition. She flung open the +door, and ran down-stairs with a light step, a smiling face, and a +fierce, tight heart.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3>LOCKED UP.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant's health was now sufficiently established to warrant his moving +back to Abbie's. Not that he was particularly anxious to go, but he had +no pretext for staying, and his engagement to Sophie was a reason in +etiquette why he should not. Accordingly, about a week after Cornelia's +arrival, such of his books and other property as had been sent to him +from the boarding-house were packed in a box, which was hoisted in to +the back of the wagon; he and Professor Valeyon mounted the seat, and, +with Dolly between the shafts, they set out for the village.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you remember a talk I had with you the first evening you came +here?" said the old gentleman, as they turned the corner in the road. +"Told you it would be work enough for a churchful of missionaries to +make any thing out of you, in the way of a minister, and so on?"</p> + +<p>"Very well; I remember the whole conversation," said Bressant, pushing +up his beard into his mouth and biting it.</p> + +<p>"Thanks to God—I can't take any credit to myself—you've been more +changed than I ever expected to see you. You've found your heart and how +to use it. That goes further toward fitting you for the ministry than +all the divinity-books ever printed."</p> + +<p>Bressant's hankering after the ministerial life was not so strong as it +once had been; but he said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You'll need means of support when you're married," resumed the +professor. "A few months' hard study will qualify you to take charge of +a parish. The next parish to this will be vacant before next spring. If +I apply for it now, I may be able to give it you, with your wife, as a +New-Year's gift."</p> + +<p>"I thought of getting a place in New York. What could I do in a country +parish?"</p> + +<p>"Expensive, living in New York!" said the professor, with a glance of +quiet scrutiny at his companion's profile. "Marriage won't be a good +pecuniary investment for you, remember. Better begin safe. The village +salary will be good enough."</p> + +<p>Bressant communed with himself in silence a few moments, before +replying:</p> + +<p>"As my father's will stands, Mrs. Vanderplanck—I believe he owed some +obligation or other to her—receives half the fortune, and I the other +half. Are you certain that my marriage, and the disclosure it would +bring about, will forfeit the whole of it?"</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon touched Dolly with the whip, and turned inward his +white-bearded lips.</p> + +<p>"All I can tell you about it," said he, "is this: when your mother +married your father, all her property was settled upon her; so that it +was only the event of her death, intestate, that could have given your +father the right to will it away at all."</p> + +<p>At this information, Bressant folded his arms, and, looking steadfastly +before him, said not a word. A silence followed between the two, which +lasted over half a mile. Dolly seemed to be in a meditative humor, +likewise; she whisked her tail with an absorbed air, and once in a while +shook her ears, or wagged her head, as though accepting or rejecting +some hypothesis or proposition. Most likely, her problems found their +solution in the manger that afternoon; but those of the professor and +his companion received neither so early nor so satisfactory a +settlement.</p> + +<p>When they had entered upon the willow-stretch, where the trees had +already scattered upon the ground their first tribute of narrow golden +leaves, the younger man came to the end of his meditations, straightened +himself in his seat, and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Let it be as you said about the country parish; if you can get it for +me, I'll be ready for it."</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon's face, which had been somewhat overcast, cleared +beautifully; he appealed to Dolly's sympathies with a flick of the whip, +to which she responded with a knowing shake of the head, and a +refreshing increase of speed.</p> + +<p>"That's well, my dear boy," said he. "I respect you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not the only one concerned," continued Bressant, who still sat in +the same position, with folded arms; "it involves about as much for Mrs. +Vanderplanck as for me. I shall have to consider that point, and attend +to it first of all."</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth," returned Professor Valeyon, with an emphatic +deliberation of manner, "I don't think you can give her any information +that she's not possessed of already. She knows as much as you do, that's +certain. You'll do well to begin business nearer home than at Mrs. +Vanderplanck's."</p> + +<p>Bressant lifted one hand to his beard, which he twisted about +unmercifully. "It's only since Cornelia came back that you have thought +that," he said, at length, with sudden keenness.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman nodded, and met steadily the rapid glance which the +other gave him.</p> + +<p>"At all events," the latter resumed presently, "she don't know that I +know, and she don't know what I intend. It's not a pleasant business, +altogether—understand? You know how I've been brought up. It isn't so +easy for me to fall into the right sentiments as it might be for other +men. And—I feel it to be a private matter; I ought to go about it +alone, and in my own way. Now"—here he turned around, and changed his +tone, watching the professor's countenance as he spoke, "are you willing +to leave it entirely in my hands?—promise not to question me, nor to +speak to me, nor to anybody else, until it's all settled?"</p> + +<p>"More than willing, my dear boy! more than satisfied; you shall have a +clear field, that's certain. I sha'n't do any thing—sha'n't say a word, +meanwhile; shall wait with perfect confidence till you're ready to +report, whenever and however you please."</p> + +<p>"I should like to make you a present on my wedding-day, in return for +the parish, you know. Will that be soon enough?" and the young man met +the elder's eye with a sharp look of significance.</p> + +<p>"No more fitting time, no more fitting time," replied Professor Valeyon. +The old gentleman's heart was full; he shifted the reins to his right +hand, and laid his left upon Bressant's, which he pressed with much +feeling. Perhaps it was of bad omen thus to seal a bargain with the left +hand, but no misgivings of the sort troubled the professor. He felt more +at ease than at any time since his pupil first sprang up the steps of +the Parsonage-porch.</p> + +<p>But Bressant, if he were a child in the world of the affections, was, in +other respects, a man of exceptional shrewdness and comprehensive +ability. Although he had never as yet turned his attention to business +matters, he had every faculty and instinct required to make a successful +business-man. When he found his own interests deeply at stake, he may +have had more than one motive for wishing to secure to himself a clear +field. But Professor Valeyon was still as simple-hearted a soul—as +quick to trust wherever his sympathies dictated—as ever in his younger +days.</p> + +<p>Bressant did not intend to deceive him, but then he had no irrevocably +settled plans. He was not one of those who follow blindfold the +promptings of any principle, simply because it chances to be a lofty +one. Although passionate, and hot of blood, he could believe that the +greatest good might be made not inconsistent with the greatest comfort. +He undoubtedly intended to do what honor, generosity, and his future +father-in-law, urged him to do; but it was less from an abstract love of +virtue, than from an overmastering unwillingness to give up Sophie (his +affection for whom was the most deeply-seated necessity of his nature—a +fact which must be borne in mind through all that follows), and +also—this was likewise a consideration of the greatest weight; indeed, +Sophie alone counted for more—also, from a very confident conviction +that, after every thing had been accomplished, according to the highest +dictates of truth, and justice, and all that—he would not, to all +intents and purposes, lose his fortune after all; that, whatever might +be the legal disposition of it, all the enjoyments and benefits that it +could confer would still be his, with the additional grace of having +acted in a most lofty and self-sacrificing spirit; that, in short, and +to use a homely illustration, he would be able to give away his cake and +eat it too.</p> + +<p>After being safely landed at the boarding-house—Abbie was not at home +at the moment—Bressant bade farewell to the professor, and, assisted by +the fat Irish servant-girl, carried his box up to his room. It was +neatly swept, dusted, and put in order; a bunch of fresh flowers upon +the table; others, in pots, upon the window-sill. Their fragrance gave a +delicate tone to the atmosphere of the room, and perhaps penetrated more +nearly to Bressant's heart than an hour full of unanswerable arguments +and exhortations. He turned to the fat servant, who stood smiling, and +wiping her hands on her apron.</p> + +<p>"Who brought these flowers? Who arranged them here?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, and wasn't it Abbie herself!" replied the functionary, giving her +mistress her Christian name, with true democratic freedom. "More than +that; isn't it herself has swept out the room every week, let alone +dusting of it every day of her life! which is not mentioning that the +flowers has been exchanged every day likewise, and fresh put in place of +them, by reason that the old shouldn't fade; which is a fact +unprecedented, and unbeknown in my experience, which have been in this +house nine year come St. Patrick's day—God bless him!"</p> + +<p>Having thus delivered herself of what had evidently been weighing on her +mind for weeks past, the fat servant-girl stopped wiping her hands on +her apron (without help of which praiseworthy act she could no more have +talked, than a donkey with a heavy stone tied to his tail can bray), and +turning herself about, waddled toward the door. Bressant hesitated a +moment, passed his hand rapidly down over his face and beard, and then, +catching open the door just as the fat servant-girl was closing it, he +requested her to inform Abbie, when she came back, of his return, and +tell her he would like to speak with her.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, sir; rest easy," was the encouraging reply. "Faith, and +it's a handsome man he is, and a sweet, lovely look he has out of his +eyes; leastways now, which is, maybe, more than could be said when first +he came here, three months ago, and looked that cold and sharp at a body +as might make one shiver like. It's likely his being going to marry Miss +Sophie up to the Parsonage as has fetched a change in him; which, she's +a dear good girl; and may they be happy—God bless the both of them!" +Thus soliloquizing, the fat servant-girl, apron in hand, descended the +narrow stairs, and betook herself to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Bressant paced restlessly up and down his small room, stopping every +minute or so to bend over the flower-pots in the window, or take a sniff +from the bouquet on the table. His cheeks and forehead were flushed, and +his eyes very brilliant. His lips worked incessantly against one +another, and he held his hands now clasped behind his back, now thrust +into the pockets of his coat. But there was certainly a noble and a +gentle light upon his features, different from their usual expression of +dazzling intellectual efficiency, different from the passionate fire +which Cornelia's presence had more than once caused to flicker over +them, different even from the purer and deeper illumination which his +love for Sophie sometimes kindled within him. A virtuous act stirs the +soul by its own innate beauty, even when the motive is not all +unselfish. It was probably the first time that precisely such a look had +ever visited Bressant's face; and it was certainly a great pity that no +one but a fat Irish servant-girl should have had the privilege of +beholding it there.</p> + +<p>Presently, as he stood facing the door, he saw the latch lifted. The +moment had come. Involuntarily he caught hold of the back of the chair, +and drew in his breath.</p> + +<p>Pshaw! only the fat servant again. Bressant bit his lip, stamped his +foot upon the floor, and frowned.</p> + +<p>The fat girl met these demonstrations with a fat smile, and extended to +the young man a long, narrow envelop, laid crossways over the dirty palm +of her large, thick hand.</p> + +<p>"A letter!" exclaimed she, resuming her apron as soon as her hand was at +liberty. "A letter from New York I'm thinking it is; and sure the +handwriting's a lady's, every bit of it; which I don't know what Miss +Sophie would be after saying if she should hear of it—nay, don't fear +me, sir, that I'd ever have the heart to be telling her of it! And it's +Abbie as fetched it, and the same bid me tell you as how she'd be after +coming up here directly; she'll be cleaning her face first, and +removing her bonnet; which she's always a right neat body, and it's +myself can testify, as has lived with her nine years, and never had +cause to complain, God bless her!"</p> + +<p>When Bressant was alone, he sat down in the chair, with the letter +between his fingers. On such slight hinges do our destinies turn. If +Abbie had neglected to call at the post-office, or if she had been +satisfied to give the letter to the young man herself, instead of +sending it to him five minutes beforehand, or if the writing of the +letter had been delayed a few hours (how many <i>ifs</i> there always are in +such cases!), Bressant would have had a far different fate, and this +story would never have been written. But as it was, five fatal minutes +intervened between the delivery of the letter and Abbie's appearance, +during which time he had read it through twice—at first hurriedly, the +second time slowly and carefully—had replaced it in the envelop, and +put the envelop in his pocket. Then he sat quite quiet, leaning back in +his chair, his head thrown forward, his under eyelids drawn up, and +contracted around the piercing glance of his eves, his jaws and lips set +tight, and a straight line up his forehead from between his eyebrows. A +more unpleasant and forbidding expression one does not often meet; but, +such as it was, it grew still more stern and unpromising when the door +once more slowly opened, and Abbie appeared upon the threshold.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he at once rose, and inclined forward his lofty shoulders +in a remarkably courteous bow. Abbie, who showed some traces of +discomposure, and held one finger nervously to her under lip, stepped +into the room, and they shook hands.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to welcome you back," said she, apparently unable to remove +her eyes from his face. "You'll not likely find this place as convenient +as the Parsonage, though."</p> + +<p>"It's very pleasant; these flowers are delightful. I wanted to thank you +for them; it seems like home to be here."</p> + +<p>"Like home!" repeated Abbie. Her body seemed to bend and sway toward +him, and the outer extremity of the eyebrows drooped a little, giving a +singularly soft and gentle expression to her elderly visage. But seeing +that he only colored, turning his head aside, and fumbling with his +beard, her expression changed into one of constraint, which appeared to +stiffen on her features.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you like the flowers; I didn't know as you cared for such +things. I thought if you were ill they might be pleasant to you. But +you're looking very well, sir, for one who has had so severe an +accident."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I'm as well as ever. I've had very good nursing."</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes," she said, slowly; "it was better you should be there; you +couldn't have been so well cared for here. I told Professor Valeyon so +at the time. I knew you'd feel happier there—more at home. It's all for +the best—all for the best, in the end." She rattled the keys in her +girdle before proceeding, with a distraught, embarrassed manner: +"By-the-way, you had something more than good nursing to help you to +health, I heard. Is it Cornelia—or Sophie?"</p> + +<p>Bressant hesitated and stammered—a weakness he seldom was guilty of, +especially when there was so little reason for it as at present.</p> + +<p>"It's—I'm—oh!—Sophie!" said he.</p> + +<p>"I heard it was Sophie, but I thought likely as not it was a mistake of +one for another. Sophie," repeated she, musingly, "that sweet, delicate +little angel. Oh, I should fear, I should fear! Cornelia would have been +better—not so sensitive—she can bear more—and who knows?—No; but I +do him wrong; he loves her: she'll be happy; she can't help it!"</p> + +<p>Here Abbie became aware that she had been thinking aloud; her hand +sought her mouth, and she glanced apprehensively at Bressant. But he had +evidently heard nothing of the latter part of her speech, which was +spoken in a low tone. He had taken a flower from the bunch on the table, +and was pulling it ruthlessly to pieces. He did not look up. Abbie, +rattling her keys, retired toward the door.</p> + +<p>"I'll bid you good-morning, sir. A house-keeper always must be busy, you +know; and, of course, you can't afford to be disturbed. You need never +fear any disturbance from me—never, I assure you. By-the-way, you +received your letter? I gave it to the servant, instead of waiting to +bring it myself, because I thought it might be important."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I have it; no—no importance at all. Good-morning."</p> + +<p>Abbie walked hurriedly and unevenly to her room, shut herself in, and +fastened the door. She sat down on a chair which stood by the +old-fashioned desk in the corner, and it seemed to her she could not +rise from it again. A faintness was upon her, which she thought might, +perhaps, be death. There was a sensation within her as if a clock had +run down in her head, and had dropped the heavy weight into her heart. +She could feel the paleness of her face, and the drops of moisture on +her forehead. Her breathing was wellnigh imperceptible. She sat quite, +still, in a kind of awful expectation, as if listening for the echoless +footfall of Death. But he passed by on the other side, and left her to +face her life again.</p> + +<p>She felt rather tired of it, as she sat up and looked dimly around her. +Putting her hand in the pocket of her dark dress, she drew out the small +square morocco case which contained the daguerreotype. It was rather +mortifying, certainly: every one knows what it is to appear, dressed for +a party, and find you have mistaken the night. In what pleasant little +episode had Abbie flattered herself that this portrait, with its grave, +dark, baby eyes, its soft, light curls, its slender, solemn little face, +might be going to play a part? No matter: the hope was gone by; and +every day the portrait faded more and more indistinguishably into the +dark background. Abbie looked at it a moment or two only, then closed +the case, and carefully fastened the two little hooks which kept it +shut. Opening the old-fashioned desk, she put the daguerreotype in its +little drawer, and locked it up. She held the key—a small brass +key—between her finger and thumb, meditating. Presently she went to the +window, opened it, and looked out. Beneath, a little to one side, stood +a huge black water-butt, half buried in the earth, and partly full of +rain-water, contributed by the tin spout whose mouth opened above it. +Into this butt Abbie dropped the key. It struck the water with a faint +pat, and disappeared, causing two or three circles to expand to the +edges of the butt, against which they disappeared also.</p> + +<p>She did not immediately draw back, but remained leaning with her arms +upon the window-sill. It was a beautiful, cool, September morning, such +as makes breathing and eyesight luxurious. The fat Irish girl sat on the +back steps, peeling potatoes for dinner. On the step by her side was a +large earthen bowl, into which she put the potatoes, while throwing the +skins into the swill-pail on her right. She was obliged to give her +whole mind to the operation, there being a danger lest, in rapid +working, she should happen to throw the potato into the swill-pail, and +put the skin into the earthen bowl. She was much too absorbed to notice +the beautiful weather, even had she been inclined to do so; but it +remained beautiful, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"I'd be a fool to find fault with him," said Abbie to herself. "How can +I expect him to see any thing in me, more than I can see myself in the +looking-glass? And then, he loves Sophie, and perhaps he thinks I'd rob +her; the Lord knows I only coveted the luxury of giving away my own, and +seeing them happy with it. Well, he may set his mind at rest; he shall +never suffer the mortification of having to thank a boarding-house +keeper for his fortune.</p> + +<p>"O my boy—my dear, dear boy!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Bressant, having been relieved, by the timely arrival of the +letter, from any present necessity of visiting his aunt, was devoting +himself pretty diligently to the cultivation of that line in his +forehead running perpendicularly up from between the eyebrows. It bade +fair to become a permanent feature in his face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3>ARMED NEUTRALITY.</h3> + + +<p>One afternoon in the cool heart of October, Cornelia and Sophie found +themselves on the hill which rose up in front of the house, above the +road, bound on a hunt for autumn leaves. They were alone. Bressant's +time for coming was still an hour distant. A few nights before there had +been a frost, which had inspired a rainbow soul into the woods; and the +glory of the golden and crimson leaves made it imperatively necessary +that they should be gathered and allowed to illuminate the dusky +interior of the Parsonage.</p> + +<p>Since Cornelia's return home, the sisters had not been so much together +as formerly. Sophie had observed it, and secretly blamed herself: she +allowed Bressant to monopolize her—left Cornelia out in the cold—was +selfish and thoughtless just because she was happy—and so forth: taking +herself severely to task, and resolving to amend her behavior forthwith. +But there seemed to be some difficulty in the way of consummating her +best intentions.</p> + +<p>Cornelia was no longer so easily to be come at; she did not volunteer +herself now in the liberal, joyous way she used to do; did not, in fact, +appear half so ready to do her share in the work of reconstruction. It +began to force itself upon Sophie that the edifice of their former +relations was not lightly to be rebuilt; and the growth of this +conviction occasioned her to mar her ordinarily serene and justly +harmonized existence with sundry little fits of crying and other +mournful indulgences.</p> + +<p>As for Cornelia, if she noticed the estrangement at all, she did not +allow it to occasion her any anxiety. Jealousy and discontent are more +self-absorbing passions than love, and they closed her eyes to whatever +they did not involve. Yet the effect of the estrangement was more +hurtful upon her than upon Sophie; for never had her pure-minded +sister's influence been so needful to her as now, when the very nature +of the malady forbade its being so relieved.</p> + +<p>But this afternoon it had so happened that they found themselves +together, on the hill. Each had filled a basket with the most brilliant, +or harmonious, or vividly contrasted colors they could find. They had +emerged from the wood into the clear autumn sunshine which rested upon +the hill-side, and sat down upon a gray knee of rock, encased with crisp +gray and black lichens. Below lay the Parsonage, with its +weather-blackened, shingled roof, and the garden, full of shrubbery, +intersected by winding paths, the fountain in the centre. The stony road +wound around the spur of the hill, and was visible here and there, in +its slopes and turnings on the way to the village, light buff between +the many-colored bordering of foliage. The winding valley looked like +Nature's color-box; the tall hills beyond, sleeping beneath their +Persian shawls, contrasted richly with the cool pearl-gray of the lower +sky behind them. Away to the right, though seemingly nearer than from +the road below, rose the white steeple of the meeting-house, and, +peeping out around it, the roofs and gable-ends of the village houses.</p> + +<p>"There could not be a more lovely place to be happy in!" said Sophie, +sighing from excess of pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Any place is as lovely as another when you're in love, I suppose," +remarked her sister; "that is, if being in love is as nice as poets say +it is."</p> + +<p>Sophie looked around with a smile, implying that the best description a +poet ever wrote could give but a faint impression of the reality.</p> + +<p>"But," pursued Cornelia, "don't you find it very stupid when he's away? +The happier you are with him, the unhappier you'd be without him, I +should think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, dear!" returned Sophie. "I'm happy mostly, because I know he +cares for me more than for any one else in the world, and because I know +he's one of the best and truest of men. I can feel that, you know, just +as much when he's at Abbie's, as when he's here. The happiness of love +isn't all in seeing and hearing, and—all that tangible part."</p> + +<p>"Don't it make any difference, then, if you never Bee one another from +the day you're engaged until you're married?"</p> + +<p>Sophie began to blush, as she generally did when called upon to speak of +her love. "Of course, it's delicious to be together," said she, "and it +would be very sad if we could not meet. But it would be more sad to +think that our love depended on meeting."</p> + +<p>"Well, it may be so to you," returned Cornelia, picking lichens from the +rock and crushing them between her rounded fingers; "but my idea is that +the whole object of being engaged and married is to be together all the +time. I don't see what on earth we are made visible and tangible for, +unless to be seen and touched by the persons we love."</p> + +<p>Sophie looked distressed, and a little embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"You can't think our bodies are the most important part of us, Neelie, +dear? It's our souls that love and are loved, you know. How could we +love in heaven if it were not so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know any thing about that. It's love in this world I'm +speaking of. I believe it has as much to do with flesh and blood, as an +instrument has with the music that it makes. What would become of the +music if it wasn't for the instrument?"</p> + +<p>"That's a beautiful illustration, my dear," observed Sophie, after a +thoughtful pause, "but I think it can be used better the other way. The +music of love, like other music, is an existence by itself, exclusive of +the flesh-and-blood instruments, which weren't given us to create music, +but to interpret it to our earthly senses. Our souls are the players; +but in the next world we shall be able to perceive the harmony without +need of any medium. We can remember music, too, and enjoy it, long after +we have heard it—that is why we don't need to be always together. And +yet it's always sweet to meet, to hear a new tune; and the number of +tunes is infinite; so love needs all eternity to make itself complete."</p> + +<p>When Sophie hit upon an idea which seemed to her spiritually beautiful +and harmonious, she was apt to be carried away—sometimes, perhaps, into +deep water. Yet thus, occasionally, did she catch glimpses of higher +truths than a broader and safer wisdom could have attained. Cornelia +took one of the glowing leaves out of her basket, and looked at it. +Perhaps she saw, in the perfect earthly self-sufficiency of its +splendor, something akin to herself.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I don't half appreciate your theory, Sophie, though it's +certainly pretty enough. But you're more soul than body, to begin with, +I believe. For my part, I almost think, sometimes, I could get along +without any soul at all, and never feel the least inconvenience. Perhaps +everybody hasn't a soul—only a few favored ones."</p> + +<p>"What is it gives you such thoughts, Neelie?" said her sister, in a tone +which, had it not been charged with so ranch depth of feeling, would +have been plaintive. Her gray, profound eyes, from a slight slanting +upward of the brows above them, took on an expression in harmony with +her tone. "I never knew you to have such, until lately."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, until lately, I didn't have any thoughts at all." There was +a pause. Sophie looked away over the beautiful valley, but it could not +drive the shadow of anxious and loving sorrow from her face. Cornelia +busied herself selecting leaves from her basket, and arranging them in a +bouquet. Like them, she was more vividly and variously beautiful since +the frost.</p> + +<p>"Do you think men's ideas of love, and such things, are as high as +women's?" asked she presently.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't they be?" answered Sophie, coming back from her reverie +with a sigh. "I'm sure Bressant's are: if they weren't—"</p> + +<p>She sank again into thought, and another long silence followed. This +time Cornelia's hands were still, but she watched Sophie closely.</p> + +<p>"Well—suppose they weren't—suppose he were to turn out not quite so +high-minded, and all that, as you think him: you would stop loving him, +wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you suggest it!" cried Sophie, almost with a sob. She bent down, +resting her face upon her arms, and against the rock. "That question has +come to me once before. How can I know? If he were to degenerate +now—now, after I have told him that I love him—it must be because he +no longer loved me; and I should have no right to love him, then."</p> + +<p>Cornelia looked down, for there was a certain light in her eyes which +had no right to be there. When she thought it was subdued, she raised +them again.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't you hate him always afterward? Shouldn't you want to kill +him?" demanded she, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"I should want to kill only the memory of his unworthiness," replied +Sophie, her voice rising and clearing, while she regarded her sister +with a full, bright glance. "As to hating him—I cannot hate any one I +have loved, Neelie." She raised herself up as she spoke, and sat erect.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a strange girl!" said Cornelia, who was a little confused. +"I don't see how you can ever be either happy or unhappy. Nothing human +seems to have any hold upon you."</p> + +<p>"I'm very human," returned Sophie, shaking her head. "There are some +things, I think, would soon drive me out of the world, if God wore to +send them to me."</p> + +<p>The idea of death, when brought home to Cornelia, never failed to affect +her. If she had been planning the destruction of an enemy, she would +have wept bitterly at the sight of that enemy's dead body; nay, even at +a vivid account of his death. Sophie's words brought tears to her eyes +at once, and a quaver into her voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't—please don't talk that way, dear; it isn't so easy to die as you +think, I'm sure. The idea of dying because anybody was wicked! It's only +because you've been ill, and have got into the habit of expecting to +die, that you have such ideas—isn't it? don't you think so? You'll stop +feeling so as soon as you're well again—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Sophie, with, it may be, a particle of satire in her +smile.</p> + +<p>They now got up from the rock and began to descend toward the Parsonage. +Sophie stepped with a quick but careful precision, never slipping or +missing her footing. Cornelia made short rushes, and daring jumps, often +coining near to fall. Her mind was a Babel of new thoughts; or rather +one idea spoke with many tongues, and made much disturbance.</p> + +<p>The greatest crimes are often perpetrated by those who, in their own +phrase, follow the lead of the moment, and let things take their course. +Things never take their own course, in a certain sense; what we do, and +say, and think, creates circumstances and shapes results. There seems +always to be a choice of paths. We profess—and believe—that we are +neutral; that we surrender ourselves to the chance of the current. But +let an evil hope—a dangerous wish—once enter our minds: something we +venture only half to hint to ourselves in the non-committal whispers of +a craven, unacknowledged longing-working secretly within us, it will act +upon our course as a rudder, which, hidden beneath the water, steers the +vessel inevitably toward a certain goal. Perhaps, when the current has +become too swift, and the rudder, clamped in one fatal position, cannot +be turned, we may realize, and recoil; but now, indeed, we follow the +lead of the moment; now, beyond a doubt, we let things take their +course: we are hurried on irresistibly; that which we dared not openly +to name, or fairly to face, now looms awfully above us—an irrevocable, +accomplished fact.</p> + +<p>Beyond doubt it would have been safer to have steadily and fearlessly +kept the end in view from the outset: for the full horror of it would +have been visible while yet there was time to change our minds. Few +people have the nerve to jump from a precipice, or stand in way of a +railway-engine, without first shutting their eyes, and perhaps their +ears also.</p> + +<p>In Cornelia's mind there was no intention of ruining her sister's +happiness by interfering between her and Bressant; but then she did not +think it likely that to lose him would occasion Sophie any thing more +than a temporary and comparatively trifling degree of suffering. If she +could allow her love for him to depend upon the immaculateness of his +moral character, she did not love him as much as Cornelia, to whose +affection any considerations of that kind were immaterial. What, after +all, was Sophie's love but an idealization, which had, to be sure, taken +Bressant as its object, but which placed no vital dependence upon him? +But Cornelia's love was to her a matter of life and death: she was +quite convinced that to live without Bressant would be an impossibility.</p> + +<p>The next question was, whether Bressant was really as good as Sophie +believed him to be. Cornelia did not think he was. Perhaps a secret +sense of his attitude toward her suggested her suspicions; perhaps they +were the result of her New-York experience, which had taught her just +enough about men to make her imagine there was more or less of dark and +indefinite villainy in the composition of all of them; perhaps it was +her wish that fathered her moral misgivings about him—for it must be +confessed that Cornelia was very far from shrinking at the idea of +seeing her suspicions verified.</p> + +<p>Indeed, was it not, on all accounts, desirable that, whatever +objectionable points and passages the young man's life-record contained, +should be at once forthcoming? Cornelia could not restrain a feeling of +satisfaction at the growing conviction that it would be doing Sophie a +kind and friendly service to inform her, in time, what a reprobate she +was about to marry—if he only could be proved a reprobate! This +question of proof was the only one difficulty in Cornelia's way; all the +rest was as clear and easy as is generally the case in such matters.</p> + +<p>It would not do to lie about it: Cornelia had a natural if not a moral +disinclination to falsehood, and was, moreover, acute enough to see how +strong, in this case, would be the chances of detection. It was not +likely that Sophie would accept upon hearsay any imputations or +accusations against her lover: she would speak to Bressant at once; the +lie would be revealed, and the result would be not only a failure to +alienate Sophie from him, but a certainty of alienating him from +Cornelia.</p> + +<p>No; her reliance must be placed upon facts. Whatever she could hear to +the young man's disadvantage that was true, beyond the possibility of +his denial, that she must at once make known to Sophie: it was no less +than her duty. Or, better still, why would it not be enough simply to +inform Bressant of her dark discovery, and compel him, by the threat of +revelation, to give up Sophie of his own accord! Cornelia, in +congratulating herself upon this shrewd idea, did not perceive how +entirely it transformed the whole aspect and spirit of her intention.</p> + +<p>So much being arranged, the next thing was to put herself in the way of +learning the objectionable truths which she had persuaded herself +existed. This was rather an awkward point. How should she go to work? to +whom apply? who would be most likely to know, or, knowing, to impart +what Cornelia desired to hear? Aunt Margaret? But it was not certain +that she knew any thing about him more than the little Cornelia had +herself told her: if not useless, it would certainly be rash to make +inquiries of her, especially since it would have to be done by letter. +Aunt Margaret wouldn't do.</p> + +<p>Her papa? No, no! that was quite out of the question. He might not +approve—he was old-fashioned—he wouldn't understand the necessity—he +might ask her disagreeable questions—and besides—no, he must be given +up.</p> + +<p>But besides Aunt Margaret, and Professor Valeyon, who was there? +Cornelia was quite at a loss. To think of being obliged to give up the +whole explosion, merely for want of a match to touch off the powder, +that was unendurable! She would not give it up; she would let herself be +guided by circumstances; something would be sure to turn up that would +serve her purpose; she must be on the alert, that was all, and let +things take their course. One thing troubled her—the day of the wedding +was not much over two months distant! Every thing must be done before +then. It was to be hoped that things would take their course with a +reasonable degree of rapidity.</p> + +<p>As regarded the favorable result to herself of Bressant's separation +from Sophie, Cornelia seems never to have entertained a doubt. That he +would fall into a state of despair, and of bitterness against all women, +herself included, she was unable, consistently with her confidence in +herself, to believe. Far more natural was it, that, finding Sophie no +longer could care for him, he would seek to repose and refresh his heart +elsewhere: and where so soon as with Cornelia? Indeed it was a mystery +to her how he had ever come to care for Sophie at all; and the reason of +the mystery was, that she had felt a movement of passion in him toward +herself. There was certainly not much similarity between the sisters, +and it was not strange that Cornelia should be inclined to doubt the +validity of her rival's claim to supremacy in Bressant's heart.</p> + +<p>Her rival! The current of events had already carried Cornelia a +considerable distance beyond her position on the evening of her return +from New York, when she had excused her beautiful appearance, to +herself, by suggesting that it would not do for the husband of her +sister to detest her! That was sophistry, and it was sophistry that +served her now; but the subjects upon which she exercised it were +becoming hourly more and more ticklish. The woman of two weeks back +would have started and turned pale before the woman of to-day.</p> + +<p>It would be very funny—if it were not so deep a tragedy—the havoc +bungling human fingers make in essaying the work of Providence. No one +but God can know how delicate are the petals of his flowers, nor on what +depend their bloom and fragrance. Hearts are sacred things; we should +beware of meddling, not alone with others' but with our own.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h3>A BIT OF INSPIRATION.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant was in the habit of spending three hours every afternoon at the +Parsonage. Part of this time was passed in the professor's study, +pursuing theological lore; for, whatever the young man's ultimate +expectations with regard to his career and fortune may have been, it was +no part of his plan to allow his future father-in-law to suspect any +tiling else than what he had already given him to understand.</p> + +<p>After lessons were over he joined Sophie on the balcony, walked with her +in the garden, or gave her his arm up the hill. Cornelia was seldom to +be seen, at least within speaking distance. At the same time she did not +keep entirely out of the way. Often, when wandering with her sister +through the garden-paths, Bressant would catch a glimpse of her buoyant +figure and rich-toned face upon the balcony; or, if himself established +there, would presently behold her, in a garden hat and shortened skirt, +raking the fallen leaves off the paths and flower-beds, and perhaps +trundling them stoutly away in a wheelbarrow afterward. It thus happened +that, although seldom exchanging a word with her, he was continually +receiving fresh reminders of her, in one way or another; and he was, +moreover, haunted by an idea that Cornelia was not unconscious that he +was observing her.</p> + +<p>Two or three days subsequent to Cornelia's conversation with Sophie on +the hill-top, Bressant, on his afternoon way to the Parsonage, met the +former coming in the opposite direction. It was nearly at the end of the +long level stretch, which was now resplendent with many-colored maples, +which were interspersed at short intervals between the willows. He had +been walking; swiftly with his eyes on the ground, when, chancing to +raise them, lie saw Cornelia walking on toward him.</p> + +<p>How beautifully she trod, erect, her round chin held in, stepping +daintily yet firmly; it seemed as if the earth were an elastic sphere +beneath her feet, she moving tirelessly onward. She had plucked a branch +of gorgeous leaves from one of the maples, which she brandished about +ever and anon, to keep the flies away. A straw hat, narrow-brimmed, +slanted downward over hair and forehead. Her oval cheeks were more than +usually luminous from exercise; her eyes were bright tawny brown, the +lids shaped in curves, like the edges of a leaf. The vigorous roundness +of her full and perfect figure was hinted here and there through the +light drapery of her dress, as she walked forward. The October breeze +seemed the sweeter for blowing past her.</p> + +<p>"You must be rather late—I don't often meet you!" said she, with a +smile which put Bressant traitorously at his ease.</p> + +<p>"Early, more than late," responded he, stopping as he saw that she +stopped.</p> + +<p>"Are you?—well, then—I don't often see you—would you mind walking +with me just a little way?" and she touched him lightly on the shoulder +with her maple-branch, as with the wand of an enchantress.</p> + +<p>He, in obedience rather to the touch than the words, turned about and +walked beside her.</p> + +<p>"I've a right to a sister's privileges, you know," continued she, +slipping her hand beneath his arm, and letting it rest upon it.</p> + +<p>How very delightful, as well as simple, to solve the problem of their +intercourse on this basis! Bressant did not know how it might feel to +have a sister, but he could, at the moment, imagine nothing more +delightful than to be Cornelia's brother—unless it were to be Sophie's +husband. But to be both!</p> + +<p>"Do you know," pursued she, with apparent hesitation, looking up in his +face, and then immediately looking down again, "I've had a notion, since +coming back from New York, that you don't like me so well as you did?"</p> + +<p>This might be either audacity or delicacy, as one chose to take it. +Bressant, feeling himself put rather on the defensive, answered hastily +and without premeditation:</p> + +<p>"I like you more!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm so glad to hear you say so!" exclaimed she warmly, and as she +spoke he felt her hand a little more perceptibly on his arm. "It takes +such a load off my heart! seeing you and Sophie love one another so +much, I couldn't help loving you, too, in my way; and it made me so +unhappy to think I was disagreeable to you."</p> + +<p>Bressant was quite unprepared for all this. Whatever had been his +speculations as to the future footing upon which he and Cornelia should +stand, it had been nothing like that she was now furnishing. It did not +seem at all in the vein which she had opened on the day of her return. +He was puzzled: had he been more used to ladies' society, he would have +mistrusted her sincerity.</p> + +<p>"You could never be disagreeable to me!" was his answer: and he looked +down at her oval cheek, with his first attempt at fraternal admiration. +It turned out badly. She looked unexpectedly up: his glance fell through +her tawny eyes, and sank down, burning deliciously, into her heart. She +turned pale with the pain and the pleasure: but it was such pain and +pleasure that she sought, and wanted more of.</p> + +<p>"Well, then! it's all clear between us again—is it?" resumed she, +drawing a long breath, which sounded more like the irrepressible +out-come of a tumultuous heart, than a sigh of relieved suspense upon +the point in question. "No more misunderstandings, or any thing? and you +won't get out of the way ally more, as if I were poison—will you?"</p> + +<p>"I never did!" protested he, laughing awkwardly. In the last few minutes +he had developed a sentiment hitherto unknown to him—pique! He had been +imagining Cornelia in love with him, and angry at his preference for +Sophie; whereas, it would now seem that the only reason she cared for +him at all, was because he was Sophie's lover: a most correct spirit in +her, no doubt; but, instead of being gratified, as was his duty, he felt +provoked.</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, you behaved shockingly!" rejoined Cornelia, laughing with him. +"Mind! I don't care how devoted you are to Sophie—the more the better; +but, when you do notice me, I want you to do it kindly—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be sure to, now that I know you care any thing about it."</p> + +<p>"And what made you think I didn't care about it, if you please, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Why," stammered he, quite at a loss what to say, and so coming out with +the truth, "I thought you were offended at my being engaged to Sophie!"</p> + +<p>"But what should there be in that to offend me?" demanded Cornelia, with +the mouth and eyes of Innocence.</p> + +<p>"I don't know:—well—I knew you first!" he blurted forth, beginning to +wish he had been satisfied to hold his tongue.</p> + +<p>Cornelia took her breath once or twice, and then bit it off on her under +lip, as if about to say something, and afterward hesitating about it.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand you," she managed to get out at last; "do +you—forgive me if I'm wrong—but perhaps you're thinking of that +time—when—just before I went away?"</p> + +<p>Saying this, she drooped her eyes in a confusion, which, because more +than half of it was genuine, made her look very fascinating. Nothing is +more seductive than a little truth. As Bressant looked at her, and +thought of what lie had done at that last interview, soft thrills crept +sweetly through his blood, and he felt a most extraordinary tenderness +for her.</p> + +<p>"I've often thought of it," answered he, in a tone which did not belie +his words.</p> + +<p>"Well—so have I, to tell the truth!" rejoined Cornelia, looking up for +a moment with glowing candor. "But we won't either of us think of it any +more, will we? It seems very long ago, now; and it'll never be again, +and we ought to forget it ever was at all. But, oh! most of all, you +must forget it if it will ever be a reason for your disliking me, or +wishing not to see me! I know how disagreeable it must be to you to +think of it now."</p> + +<p>Did Cornelia know what she was about? had she netted beforehand all the +meshes of this web she was throwing over him? the admirable mixture of +frankness and subtlety, nature and art—must it not have been planned +and calculated beforehand, to bewilder and mislead?—It may well be +doubted. No preconceived and elaborated programme can come up to the +inspiration of the moment, which is genius. Such felicitous wording of +subject-matter so objectionable: such an unassailable presentation of so +indefensible a principle—could hardly have been the fruit of +premeditation. Cornelia was allowing things to take their course.</p> + +<p>"It isn't disagreeable! it's—" Bressant broke off, unable or unprepared +to say what it was. "Why must we forget it?" he added, with a +half-assured look of significance. "You said we were brother and sister, +you know!"</p> + +<p>She laughed in his face, at the same time drawing her hand from his arm, +and stepping away from him. How tantalizingly lovely she looked!</p> + +<p>"It won't do to carry the privileges of relationship too far, my dear +sir! at least, not until after you're married. There! go back to your +Sophie—I didn't mean to keep you so long—really! No, no!" as he made +an offer to approach her; "go! and be quick, I advise you. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Bressant, as he walked on to the Parsonage, was possessed by an +undefined conviction that he was learning a great deal not set down in +the books. The page of the passions, once thrown open, seems to comprise +every thing. The world has but one voice for the man of one idea.</p> + +<p>Evidently, this man did not comprehend the nature of his position +between these two women. Reason told him it was impossible he could love +both at once; but there her information stopped. His senses assured him +that, with Cornelia, he experienced a vivid rush of emotion, such as +Sophie, strongly as he loved her, never awakened in him; but his senses +could give him no explanation of the fact. His instinct whispered that +he would not have dared, in his most ardent moments, to feel toward +Sophie as he invariably felt toward her sister; but no instinct warned +him of the danger which this implied. A sturdy principle, if it had not +thrown light upon the question, would, at least, have pointed out to him +the true course to adopt; but, unfortunately, principles, and the +impulses which they are formed to control, are neither of simultaneous +nor proportionate growth. Bressant, while partaking so liberally of +emotional food, had quite neglected to provide himself with the +necessary and useful correctives to such indulgences. Thus it happened +that when he arrived, a little past his usual hour, at the +Parsonage-door, his mental digestion was in a very disturbed condition.</p> + + +<p>In palliation of Cornelia's conduct, there is little or nothing to be +adduced. Strong forces had been laboring within her during the last few +months. Love, disappointment, a passionate nature, a sense of wrong—not +least, her New-York experience—had developed, warped, and transformed +her. Bressant's homage had been the first, of any value to her, which +she had ever received. It had come unasked and unexpected, and had been +all the more attractive, because there was something not quite regular +about it. Being lost, she had felt a fierce necessity for repossessing +it, under whatever form, under whatever name. To-day, it was but the +turn of the conversation that had suggested the expedient of calling +herself his sister.</p> + +<p>The very beauty and purity of the fraternal relation cloaks the +miserable rottenness of the imitation. So innocent does it seem, it +might almost deceive the parties to the deception themselves. "I may +love him, for I'm his sister!" said Cornelia; but could she in reality +have become his sister, she would, beyond all else, have shrunk from it. +"Nothing I do is in itself an impropriety," she could say: but her +secret sense and motive were enough to make the most innocent act +criminal. She closed her ears to the inner voice, and her eyes, looking +at her conduct only through the crimson glass of her desire, pronounced +it good.</p> + +<p>She walked swiftly, immersed in thought, along the October road, beneath +the splendid canopy, and over the gorgeous strewn carpet, of the dying +trees. She was going to call on Abbie, it having occurred to her that +perhaps the kind of information she wanted concerning Bressant might be +forthcoming there. Presently, the rapid rise in the road at the end of +the level stretch checked the current of her ideas, and threw them into +confusion. Out of the confusion rose unexpectedly one.</p> + +<p>Cornelia stopped in her walk, with one foot advanced, her head thrown +up, her finger on her chin. She looked like a glorious young sibyl, +reading a divine prophecy upon the clouds. After a moment, she waved her +autumn banner over her head, with a gesture of triumph, and, turning on +her heel, began to walk back toward home.</p> + +<p>The grandest discoveries are so simple! Cornelia laughed to think how +blind she had been—how stupid! What a sense of power and independence +was hers now! To turn homeward had been instinctive. So strong was the +sense of an end gained—a point settled—that, whatever may have been +the actual errand on which she had started, she felt that her work, for +that day, at least, was done.</p> + +<p>She had been planning, and speculating, and worrying, to discover a safe +and sure method of separating Bressant and her sister. Peering into the +past for materials, and searching on one side or another for sources of +information, she had overlooked all that was best and nearest at hand. +What need for her to scrape together a reluctant tale of what had been? +for was not the future her own? Why rely for assistance upon this or +that suspicious and unsatisfactory witness? What more trustworthy one +could she find than herself? Suppose Bressant never to have done any +thing that could make him unworthy of Sophie, was that a bar against his +doing something in the future?</p> + +<p>Yes; she had power over him, and would use it. She herself would be the +means and the cause for attaining the end at which she aimed. She would +be the accomplice of his indiscretion, and thus obtain over him a double +advantage. No matter how intrinsically trifling the indiscretion might +be, it would be just such a one as would be sure to weigh heavily in the +balance of Sophie's pure judgment. So plain would this be to Bressant +himself, that Cornelia would be able to rule him (as she argued) merely +with the threat of accusation. And, since his desertion of Sophie would +appear to her causeless, the indignation she would feel thereat would +save her from repining. Cornelia would have him all to herself!</p> + +<p>Well! and what would she do with him when she had him? She did not stop +to consider. Nor, going on thus from step to step, did she have a sense +of the hideousness of the wrong she contemplated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h3>ANOTHER INTERMISSION.</h3> + + +<p>It was something of a surprise to Bressant, after his interview with +Cornelia, that she still continued to avoid him. But, after what she had +said to him, to set his mind at rest regarding the spirit and manner of +their intercourse, she felt an intuition that it would be as well he +should believe that she herself was not over-anxious to be on any terms +with him whatever.</p> + +<p>Still, he often saw her, and always carried away a charming impression +of what he saw. Once, she had mounted a chair in the library, and was in +the act of reaching down a book from a high shelf, when he entered +unexpectedly. She turned, caught his eye, and dimpled into a mischievous +smile. All day he could not drive the picture out of his head—the +bounteous, graceful form, the heavy, dark, lustreless hair, the +fascinating face, and the smile. He had but just left Sophie, yet the +fine chords she had struck in him were drowned in Cornelia's sensuous +melody.</p> + +<p>Again, one day, coming into the house, he chanced to enter the parlor, +and there sat Cornelia, in an easy-chair, her feet stretched out upon a +stool, fast asleep. He came close up to her, and stood looking. What +artist could ever have hoped to reproduce the warmth, glow, and richness +of color and outline? He watched her, feeling it to be a stolen +pleasure, yet a nameless something, surging up within him, compelled +him to remain. In another moment—who can calculate a man's strength and +weakness?—he might have stooped to kiss her, with no brother's kiss! +But, in that moment, she awoke, and perhaps surprised his half-formed +purpose in his eyes.</p> + +<p>She was too clear-headed to regret having awaked, for she saw that he +regretted it. And, because he did not venture, she being awake, to take +the kiss, she knew he was no brother, and knew not what it was to be +one. So she put on a look of annoyance, and told him petulantly to go +about his business. Off he went, and passed his hour with Sophie, who +was as lovely, as fresh, and as purely transparent as ever. But some +turbid element had been stirred in Bressant's depths, which spoiled his +enjoyment for that day, making him moody and silent.</p> + +<p>Such little incidents—there were many of them—were far too simple and +natural to be the work of deliberation and forethought. But Cornelia was +disposed to use them, when they did occur, to her best possible +advantage, and therefore they acquired potency to affect Bressant. She +wished that to be, which he had not stamina enough to oppose: thus a +subtle bond was established between them, lending a significance to the +most ordinary actions, such as could never have been recognized between +indifferent persons.</p> + +<p>This was all progress for Cornelia, and she well knew it, and yet she +was not at ease nor satisfied. She began to find out that it was no such +light matter to usurp the place of such a woman as Sophie, though the +latter was laboring under the great disadvantage of being ignorant of +the plot against her. In most cases, indeed, the attempt would have been +wellnigh hopeless, but Cornelia had two exceptionally powerful +allies—her own supreme beauty, and Bressant's untrained and +ill-regulated animal nature, which he had not yet learned to understand +and provide against. And there was another thing in her favor, too, +although she knew it not—the demoralizing effect upon the young man's +character—of his failure to fulfil his agreement with the professor. +The evils that are in us link themselves together to drag us down, their +essential quality being identical, whatever their particular +application.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, time went on, and November had stalked shivering away +before the frosty breath of December, and still Cornelia had +accomplished nothing definite; nay, she scarcely felt sufficiently sure +of her footing to attempt any thing. And what was it that she was to +attempt? On looking this question in the face, at close quarters—it +wanted less than four weeks now of that wedding-day which Cornelia had +promised herself should see no wedding!—when she found herself pressed +so peremptorily as this for an answer, it might be imagined that she +turned pale at what was before her. And, indeed, the prospect, viewed in +its best light, was discouraging and desperate enough. For at what price +to herself must success be bought, and at what sacrifice be enjoyed? She +must either lose, or deserve to lose, all that a woman ought to hold +most sacred and most dear—home, the esteem and love of friends, the +protection of truth, and, above all, and worst of all, her own +self-respect. All these in exchange for a baffled, angry, selfish man, +at whose mercy she would be, with only one word to speak in +self-defense and justification; and it was much to be feared that he +would, considering the circumstances, reject and scoff at even that. The +one word was—she loved him! and, if there be any redeeming virtue in +it, let her, in Heaven's name, have the benefit thereof. She can rely on +nothing else.</p> + +<p>But Cornelia would not be disheartened. If she saw the rocks ahead, +against whose fatal shoulders she was being swept—if she heard, dinning +in her ears, the rush and roar of the headlong, irresistible rapids—if +her eyes could penetrate the void which opened darkly beyond—she only +nerved herself the more resolutely, her glance was all the firmer, her +determination the more unfaltering.</p> + +<p>The peril in which she stood but kindled in her heart a fiery depth of +passion, such as overtopped and tamed the very terrors of her position. +Because she must lose the world to gain her end, that end was exalted, +in her thought, above a hundred worlds. The faculties of her soul, +which, in her time of innocence and indifference, had been dormant—half +alive—now sprang at once into an exalted, fierce vitality. The hour of +evil found Cornelia a creature of far higher powers and more vigorous +development than she could ever, under any other conditions, have +attained. She showed most gloriously and greatly, when illuminated by +that lurid light whose flame was fed by all that was most gentle, +womanly, and sweet within her. She looked nearest to a goddess, when she +needed but one step to be transformed into a demon.</p> + +<p>In following out her psychological progress, we have necessarily +outstripped, to some extent, the sober pace of the narrative. It was +about the first of December that rumors began to be circulated in the +village of an approaching ball at Abbie's. It was to be the +grandest—the most complete in all its appointments—of any that ever +had been given there. It was looked upon, in advance, as the great event +of the year. Real, formal invitations were to be sent out, printed on a +fold of note-paper, with the blank left for the name, and +"R.S.V.P."—whatever that might mean—in the lower left-hand corner. +There were to be six pieces in the band; dancing was to be from eight to +four, instead of from seven to twelve, as heretofore; and the toilets, +it was further whispered, were to be exceptionally brilliant and +elaborate. Certain it was that dress-making might have been seen in +progress through the windows of any farm-house within ten miles; and at +the Parsonage no less than elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Sophie had an exquisite taste in costume, though her ideas, if allowed +full liberty, were apt to produce something too fanciful and eccentric +to be fashionably legitimate. But, let a dress once be made up, and +happy she whose fortune it was to stand before Sophie and be touched +off. Some slight readjustment or addition she would make which no one +else could have thought of, but which would transform merely good or +pretty into unique and charming. Sophie had the masterly simplicity of +genius, but was generally more successful with others than with herself.</p> + +<p>As for Cornelia, she knew how she ought to look; but how to effect what +she desired was sometimes beyond her ability. She had little faculty for +detail, relying on her sister to supplement this deficiency. She was +more of a conformist than was Sophie in regard to toilet matters; +and—an important virtue not invariable with young ladies—she always +could tell when she had on any thing becoming.</p> + +<p>One December day, when a broad, pearl-gray sky was powdering the +motionless air with misty snow, the sisters sat together at their sewing +in what had been known, since his accident, as Bressant's room. There +was no stove; but a rustling, tapering fire was living its ardent, +yellow, wavering life upon the brick hearth, and four or five logs of +birch and elm were reddening and crackling into embers beneath its +intangible intensity. It made a grateful contrast to the soft, cold bank +of snow that lay, light and round, upon the outside sill and the +slighter ridges that sloped and clung along the narrow foothold of the +window-pane frames. Presently Cornelia got up from the low stool on +which she had been sitting, and, having slipped on the waist of her new +dress, invited Sophie's criticism with a courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, Neelie!" exclaimed she, in gentle consternation, "are you +going to wear your corsage so low as that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, why not?" returned Cornelia, with a kind of defiance in her tone; +"it's the fashion, you know. Oh, I've seen them lower than that in New +York!"</p> + +<p>"But there'll be nothing like it here, dear, I'm sure. Think how +frightened poor Bill Reynolds will be when he sees you."</p> + +<p>Sophie looked up, expecting to see her sister smile; but she, having in +view the opinion of quite another person than Mr. Reynolds, remained +unusually grave.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me, dear," Sophie added, fearing she might have given +offense. "You know I'd rather see you look well than myself, especially +as I may not be here to see you another year."</p> + +<p>She drew a long breath of happy regret, thinking of what was to follow +the next day but one after the ball.</p> + +<p>Cornelia, looking into the fire, her pure, round chin resting on her +bent forefinger, started, as the same thought entered her mind. Was it +so near, though—that marriage? or would an eternity elapse ere Bressant +and Sophie called one another husband and wife?</p> + +<p>"Are you glad the day comes so soon, Sophie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered she, with quiet simplicity. "A few weeks ago it +frightened me—it seemed so near; but not now. I love him much more than +I did—that's one reason. And he loves me more, I think."</p> + +<p>"Loves you more! why? what makes you think so?" demanded Cornelia, a +frown quivering across her forehead.</p> + +<p>"His manner tells me so: he's more subdued and gentle; almost sad, +indeed, sometimes. He's lived so much in his mind since we were engaged: +I can see it in his face, and hear it in his voice, even. He's not like +other men; I never want him to be; he has all that makes other men worth +any thing, and still is himself. He has the greatest and the warmest +heart that ever was; but when he first came here he had no idea how to +use it, nor even what it was for."</p> + +<p>"And he's found out now, has he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—especially in the last few weeks. Before, he used sometimes to be +violent, almost—to lose command of himself; but he never does now."</p> + +<p>"But doesn't he ever tell you that he loves you more than ever?"</p> + +<p>"We understand each other," replied Sophie, with a slight touch of +reserve, for she thought she was being questioned further than was +entirely justifiable. "Nothing he could say would make me feel his love +more than I do."</p> + +<p>Cornelia smiled to herself with secret derision; she imagined she could +give a more plausible reason for her sister's reticence. She took off +her "waist" and resumed her place upon the stool.</p> + +<p>"What should you do, Sophie, supposing something occurred to prevent +your marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Die an old maid," returned she: not treating the question seriously, +but as a piece of Cornelia's wanton idleness.</p> + +<p>Cornelia began to laugh, but interrupted herself, half-way, with a sob. +She was seized by a fantasy that if Sophie died an old maid her sister +would have been the cause of it—would be a murderess! The sudden +jarring of this idea—tragical enough, even without the ghastly spice of +reality that there was about it—against the ludicrous element with +which tradition flavors the name of old maid—caught the young woman at +unawares, and threw her rudely out of her nervous control. It was a +result which could scarcely have happened, had she been less morbidly +and unnaturally excited and strained to begin with; as it was, it may +have been an outbreak which had long been brewing, and to which Sophie's +answer had but given the needful stimulus.</p> + +<p>The sob was succeeded by a convulsion of painful laughter, that would +go on the more Cornelia tried to stop it. At last, in gasping for +breath, the laughter gave way to an outburst of tears and sobs, which +seemed, in comparison, to be a relief. But at the first intermission, +the discordant laughter came again: she hid her face in her hands, and +made wild efforts to control herself: she slipped from her stool, and +flung herself at full length upon the floor. Now, the paroxysms of +laughing and crying came together, her body was shaken, strained, and +convulsed in every part: she was breathless, flushed, and faint. But it +seemed as if nothing short of unconsciousness could bring cessation: the +sobs still tore their way out of her bosom, and the laughter came with a +terrible wrench that was more agonizing to hear than a groan.</p> + +<p>Sophie had never seen Cornelia in hysterics before, and was tortured +with alarm and apprehension. She knew not what to do, for every attempt +she made to relieve her, seemed only to make her worse.</p> + +<p>"Let me call papa—he must be somewhere in the house—he will know what +to do!" she said, at last, trembling and white.</p> + +<p>"No! no!" cried Cornelia: and the shock of fear lest her father should +see her, overcame the grasp of the hysterical paroxysm. She half raised +herself on one arm, showing her face, red and disfigured, the veins on +the forehead standing out, full and throbbing. "Come back! come back!" +for Sophie had her hand on the door.</p> + +<p>She returned, in compliance with her sister's demand, and knelt down +beside her on the floor. Cornelia let herself fall back, her head +resting on Sophie's knee, in a state of complete exhaustion. There she +lay, panting heavily; and a clammy pallor gradually took the place of +the deeply-stained flush. But the fit was over: by-and-by she sat up, +sullenly shunning Sophie's touch, and appearing to shrink even at the +sound of her voice. Finally, she rose inertly to her feet, attempting to +moisten her dry lips, walked once or twice aimlessly to and fro across +the room, and ended by sitting down again upon her stool, and taking up +her sewing.</p> + +<p>"Are you all well again, dear?" asked Sophie, timidly.</p> + +<p>"Better than ever," replied Cornelia, with a short laugh, which had no +trace of hysteria about it.</p> + +<p>There was, however, a slight but decided change in her manner, which did +not pass away: a sort of hardness and impenetrability: and so +incorporated into her nature did these traits seem, that one would have +supposed they had always been there. Some unpleasant visitors take a +surprisingly short time to make themselves at home.</p> + +<p>But Sophie, seeing that her sister soon recovered her usual appearance, +did not allow herself to be disturbed by any uncalled-for anxieties. +Love, at its best, has a tendency to absorb and preoccupy those whom it +inspires: if not selfish, it is of necessity self-sufficient and +exclusive. Sophie was too completely permeated with her happiness, to +admit of being long overshadowed by the ills of those less blessed than +herself. Not that she had lost the power to sympathize with misfortune, +but the sympathy was apt to be smiling rather than tearful. She was +alight with the chaste, translucent, wondering joy of a maiden before +her marriage: the delicate, pearl-tinted brightness that pales the +stars, before the reddening morning brings on the broader daylight.</p> + +<p>She was not of those who, in fair weather, are on the lookout for rain: +she believed that God had plenty of sunshine, and was generous of it; +and that the possibilities of bliss were unlimited. She was not afraid +to be perfectly happy. A little sunny spot, in a valley, which no shadow +has crossed all day long, was like her: there seemed to be nothing in +her soul that needed shadow to set it right.</p> + +<p>Cheerfulness was soon reestablished, therefore, so far as she was +concerned; and the remembrance of Cornelia's distracting seizure +presently yielded to the throng of light-footed thoughts that were ever +knocking for admittance at her heart's door. Once afterward, however, +the event was recalled to her memory, by the revelation of its cause. +Little that happens in our lives would seem trifling to us, could we but +trace it, forward or backward, to the end.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<h3>BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION.</h3> + + +<p>Friday, December 30th, was the day appointed for Abbie's ball, and the +morning of the 28th had already dawned. Bressant stood, with his arms +folded, at the window of his room, watching the downfall of a thickening +snow-storm which had set in the previous midnight. There had evidently +been no delay or intermission in the cold, white, silent business; to +look out-of-doors was enough to make the flesh seem thin upon the bones.</p> + +<p>In spite of the snow, however, the little room was feverishly hot, owing +to the gigantic exertions of the small iron cylinder-stove. The round +aperture over the little door was glowing red, like an enraged eye; and +the quivering radiation of the heat from the polished black surface was +plainly perceptible to the sight. The room had lost something of the +neat and fastidious appearance which it had worn a few months before. +The colored drawing of a patent derrick, fastened to the wall by a tack +at each corner of the paper, had broken loose at one end, and was +curling over on itself like a withered leaf. The string by which the +ingenious almanac had been suspended over the mantel-piece was broken, +letting the almanac neatly down into the crevice between the wall and a +couple of fat dictionaries, which lay, one on top of the other, upon the +ledge. It was quite hidden from view, with the exception of one corner, +which was a little tilted upward, showing the hole through which the +faithless string had passed.</p> + +<p>The terrestrial and astronomical globes bore the appearance of not +having revolved for a long time. A part of the pictured surface of the +latter had scaled off, disclosing a blank whiteness beneath. Even the +heavens, it seemed, were a sham; nothing more than a varnished painting +upon a plaster-of-Paris foundation. The flower-pots still stood in the +windows, but hot air and an irregular water-supply had made sad inroads +upon the beauty of the plants. The lower leaves were turned brown; some +of them had fallen off, and lay—poor, little unburied corpses—upon the +narrow circle of earth which, having failed to keep life green within +their cells, now denied to them the right of sepulture. A few of the +topmost sprouts still struggled to keep up a parody of verdure, and one +or two faded flowers had not yet forsaken their calices—a silly piece +of devotion on their part! Icy little blasts, squeezing in through the +crevices of the window-sash, whistled about the forlorn stalks, cutting +and venomous. The poor flowers would never see another summer; better +give up at once!</p> + +<p>Even the books which met the eye on every side, wore a deserted air. Not +that they were dusty, for the chambermaid did her duty, if Bressant +failed in his; but there was something in the heavy, methodical manner +of their sleeping upon one another, such as they could never have +settled into had they been recently disturbed or opened. The outside of +a book is often as eloquent, in its way, as any part of the contents.</p> + +<p>Bressant's arms were folded, and the perpendicular line up from between +the eyebrows was quite in harmony with the rest of his appearance. He +was weary, harassed, and divided against himself. Insincerity made him +uncomfortable; it compelled continual exertion, and of a paltry and +degrading kind; and it gave neither a sense of security, nor a prospect +of future advantage. Five days from now he was to be married; the duties +of a parish minister were to be undertaken, and he felt himself neither +mentally nor morally fitted or inclined for the office. Five days from +now the professor would expect from him that gift at which he had hinted +during their drive; and he had done nothing, either in act or purpose, +to fulfil his promise concerning it.</p> + +<p>He was cut off from all sympathy. How could he confide to Sophie the +very wrong he meditated against herself—the very deception he was +practising upon her father? And what other person in the world was there +to whom he might venture to betake himself? Cornelia?—not yet! he dared +not yet yield himself to the influence he felt she was exercising over +him; the surrender implied too much; matters had not gone far enough. +But did there not lurk, in the bottom of his heart, a presentiment that +it was to her alone he would hereafter be able to look for countenance +and comfort? And would he avail himself of the refuge? When those whom +their friends—whether justly or not—have abandoned, chance to stumble +upon some oasis of unconditional affection, they are not squeamish about +its source or orthodoxy; if the sentiment be sincere and hearty, that +is enough. In the present case, moreover, Cornelia, as a last resort, +was by no means so uninviting an object as she might have been.</p> + +<p>But since the question lay between his fortune and Falsehood on one +side, and a wife and Truth on the other, how was it possible for him to +pause in his decision? Undoubtedly, had the young man once fairly +admitted to himself that his choice lay between these two bare +alternatives, he would have been spared much of the misery arising from +casuistry and duplicity. But people are loath to acknowledge any course +to be, beyond all appeal, right or wrong; they amuse themselves with +fancying some modification—some new condition—some escape; any thing +to get away from the grim face of the inevitable. Bressant, for +instance, might surely succeed in consummating his marriage with Sophie, +no matter what else he left undone; and that being once irrevocably on +his side of the balance, all that was vital to his happiness was secure; +by a quick stroke he might capture the fortune likewise, and could then +afford to laugh at the world.</p> + +<p>This scheme, however, otherwise practical enough, involved a fallacy in +its most important point. A marriage so contracted, with a woman of +Sophie's character, could by no possibility turn out a happy or even +endurable union. She would not be likely long to survive it; if she did, +it would be to suffer a life more painful than any death; for no one +depended more than Sophie upon integrity and nobility in those she +loved; and the break in her family relations would be another source of +agony to her, and of consequent remorse and misery to her husband. No: +to bind her life to his, unless he could also compel her respect and +admiration, would be a good deal worse than useless.</p> + +<p>He must, then—and there was yet time—resign his fortune, and accept +Sophie and a clear conscience, poverty and a country parish. But persons +who have wealth absolutely in their power, to take or to leave, sec +clearly how much poetical extravagance, hypocrisy, and cant exist in the +arguments of those who advocate the beauties and advantages of being +poor. Deliberately and voluntarily to forego the opportunities, the +influence, the ease, the refinement, which money alone can command—let +not the sacrifice be underrated! Few, perhaps, have had the choice +fairly offered them: of those, how many have chosen poverty? In +Bressant's case, the fact that the money was not legally his, was, +abstractly, enough to settle the matter; but in real life, where every +one is expected to do battle for his claims, it would only be an +argument for holding on the harder. If he could but manage to be happily +married and wealthy both! He would not confess it impossible; at all +events, he would delay the confession till the very latest hour, and +then trust to the impulse of the moment for his final decision and +action. He had given up, it seemed, that promising idea of trusting to +the generosity of the rightful owner; yet, considering their mutual +relation, and one or two minor circumstances, he might certainly do so +without misgiving, embarrassment, or dishonor.</p> + +<p>"It's that infernal letter!" muttered the young man between his teeth, +staring gloomily out at the cheerless snow-storm. "I wish it had never +been written. No! that I could feel sure there was no truth in it."</p> + +<p>Turning from the window, he stepped over to the table, and dropped +himself into his chair. He took from his pocket a well-worn envelope, +hardly capable of holding on to the inclosed letter, which peeped forth +at the corners, and through various rents in the front and back. He did +not open it, for he had long known by heart every word and italic in it; +but, placing it in front of him, he leaned upon his elbows, with his +forehead resting between his hands, and gazed fixedly down upon it. It +is an assistance to the vividness of thought to have some object in +sight connected with the matter under consideration.</p> + +<p>"Ought I to have answered it?" ran his soliloquy: for though he had +frequently taken counsel with himself concerning this letter before, he +recurred again and again to the subject, pleasing himself with the hope +that still, in some way, a fortunate ray of light might be struck out; +"but, if I had, what should I have gained by it? It's as well not to +have risked putting any thing on paper; and if she really has the proofs +she talks about, I shall hear from her again, and soon, for she knows +which is my wedding-day; and it must all be decided, one way or another, +before then. But she couldn't have made the assertion if she hadn't +known some good grounds for it; and yet I can't understand it—I +cannot." He pressed his temples strongly between his hands, and chewed +his brown mustache. "As to my having 'no legal claim to a cent,' I knew +that before. What puzzles me is, 'There is no consideration—not a +<i>shadow</i> of relationship, or affection, or generosity—nothing to give +you the least <i>prospect</i> of receiving any thing.' How can that be? And +yet what she says at the end—it sounds more like a threat she knows she +can fulfil than an attempt to humbug." Bressant took his right hand from +his forehead, and tapped with his finger on the envelope as he repeated +the words: "If this is enough—convinces you without your requiring +proof—it would be much pleasanter for you, and a great relief to me. +Oh! beyond <i>words</i>! But if not—if you will <i>go on</i> entangling yourself +with this foolish girl, Sophie, and this boarding-house keeper, and +all—I <i>shall</i> be obliged—I shall hate to <i>do</i> it, but there will be no +alternative—to give you the <i>explanation</i> of what I tell you now."</p> + +<p>"Well! let her!" cried the young man, rising roughly from his chair, and +shouldering backward and forward across his room with short, incensed +steps. "If her proofs can prevent my marriage, let her bring them. She'd +better be quick about it! Four days from now! They'd better never have +come at all. It's her interest as much as mine—more than mine. She's a +half-crazy old creature. She can do nothing for herself. If she has any +thing to say, let her say it. I'm no baby, to shape my life after an old +woman's story. Who is she? What is she to me?</p> + +<p>"Let something happen, I say," continued he, stretching out his great +arms, with the fists clinched. "I'm tired of this—the life of a dog +with his tail between his legs. Is it <i>I</i> who go about, afraid to look +man or woman in the face? Am I the same who came here six months ago? +Did I come here to learn this? Who was it taught it to me, then? I say, +I've been deceived; it's no work of mine. Professor Valeyon—he's made +me a subject for experiment; he's tried his theories on me; dissected +me, and filled in the parts that were wanting. It's a dangerous +business, Professor Valeyon. You've lost one daughter; the other may go +too."</p> + +<p>Bressant's voice, which had been growing hoarser and more rapid as he +went on, abruptly sank, at this last sentence, into a whisper; yet, had +any one been there to listen, the whisper would have sounded louder and +more terrible than the most violent vociferation of angry passion. It +breathed a sudden concentration of evil intelligence, that startled like +the hiss of a serpent.</p> + +<p>He stopped his short, passionate walk, and leaned against his table, +with his arms once more folded. The idea that he had been tampered with +had gained possession of him, and nothing tends more to demoralize a +man, and make him unmanageably angry. His was an uncandid position, +without doubt: he was attempting to lay upon others the responsibility +which—the greater part of it, at least—should have been borne by +himself; but still, the vein of reasoning he pursued was connected, and +comprehensible, and was rendered awkward by an ugly little thread of +something like truth and justice, which showed here and there along its +course.</p> + +<p>"They've taught me to love; did they think they could stop there? that I +shouldn't learn to lie, as well? and to hate, and be revengeful? and to +be afraid? Was I so bad when I came here, that all this has made me no +worse? I was happy, at any rate; my brain was clear; my mind had no +fear, and no weariness—it was like an athlete; my blood was cool. Look +at me now! Am not I ruined by this patching and mending? I can do no +work. When I think, it's no longer of how I might become great, and +wise, and powerful—of nothing inspiring—nothing noble; but all about +these petty, heated, miserable affairs, that have twisted themselves +around me, and are choking me up. I don't ask myself, any more, whether +my name will be as highly honored and as long remembered as the +Christian Apostles', and Mohammed's, and Luther's. My only question is, +whether I'm to turn out more of a fool, or of a liar! And <i>I</i> love +Sophie Valeyon! I'm to be her husband."</p> + +<p>The young man came to a sudden stop, and slowly lifted his head. Through +the sullen, unhappy, and resentful cloud that darkened his eyes, there +glimmered doubtfully a light such as can be reflected only from what is +most divine in man. It was a strange moment for it to appear, for at no +time had Bressant's moral level been so low as now; but, happily, the +phenomenon is by no means without precedent in human nature. God is +never ashamed to declare the share He holds in a sinner's heart, however +black the heart may be.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" said he; and, as he said it, the first tears that he had ever +known glistened for a moment in his eyes; "such as I am, I must never +marry her."</p> + +<p>The point on which this sudden and momentous resolve turned was so +subtle and delicately evanescent as scarcely to be susceptible of +clearer portrayal. To be consistent, the weight of his revengeful +sentiments should have been directed upon Sophie, for she it was who had +played the most effective part in changing his nature, and swerving him +from his cold but sublime ambitions. By teaching Bressant love, she +had, by implication, done him deadly injury, yet was the love itself so +pure and genuine as to prompt him to resign its object; he being +rendered unworthy of her by that same moral dereliction which she +herself had occasioned.</p> + +<p>But the very quality which enables us to do a noble deed dulls our +appreciation of our own praiseworthiness. Bressant took no encouragement +or pleasure from what he had done; probably, also, his realization of +the extensive and fearful consequences of the action, to others as well +as to himself, was as yet but rudimentary; so soon as the momentary glow +was passed, he fell back into a yet darker mood than before, and felt +yet more adrift and reckless. To make a sacrifice is well, but does not +hinder the need of what is given up from crippling us.</p> + +<p>Again the young man turned to the window, and, raising the sash, he +secured it by the little button used for the purpose, and leaned out +into the snow-storm. The flakes fell and melted upon his face, and +caught in his bushy beard, and rested lightly upon his twisted hair. +They flew into his eyes, and made little drifts upon the collar of his +coat and in the folds of his sleeves. He gazed up toward the dull, gray +cloud whence they came, and presently, out of the confusion, and +carelessness, and morbid impatience of his heart, he put forth a prayer +that some awfully stirring event might come to pass; let a sword pass +through his life! let him be smitten down and trampled upon! let his +mind be continually occupied with the extreme of active, living +suffering! let there be no cessation till the end! He could accept it +and exult in it; but to live on as he was living now was to walk +open-eyed into insanity. Rather than that, he would commit some capital +crime, and subject himself to the penalty. Let God take at least so much +pity upon him, and grant him physical agony!</p> + +<p>It is not often that our prayers are answered, nor, when they are, does +the answer come in the form our expectations shaped. Occasionally, +however—and then, perhaps, with a promptness and completeness that +force us to a realization of how extravagant and senseless our desires +are—does fulfillment come upon us.</p> + +<p>As Bressant's strange petition went up through the storm, a sleigh came +along from the direction of the railway-station. It was nothing but a +cart on runners, and painted a dingy, grayish blue; it was loaded with a +dozen tin milk-cans much defaced by hard usage, each one stopped with an +enormous cork. The driver was clad in an overcoat which once had been +dark brown or black, but had worn to a greenish yellow, except where the +collar turned up around the throat, and showed the original color. His +head and most of his face were enveloped in a knit woolen comforter, and +mittens of the same make and material protected his hands. His legs were +wrapped up in a gray horse-blanket. He was whitened here and there with +snow, and snow was packed between the necks of the milk-cans. He drove +directly toward the boarding-house, and he and Bressant caught sight of +one another at the same moment.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" called the stranger; "you're Bressant, I guess, ain't you? I've +got something for you." Here he drew up beneath the window. "You see, I +was down to the depot getting some milk aboard the up-train, and Davis, +the telegraph-man, came up and asked me, 'Bill Reynolds, are you going +up to Abbie's? 'cause,' says he, 'here's a telegraph has come for the +student up there—him that's going to marry Sophie Valeyon—and our boy +he's down with the influenza,' says he. 'I'm you're man!' says I, 'let's +have it!' and here 'tis," added Mr. Reynolds, producing a yellow +envelope from the bottom of his overcoat pocket.</p> + +<p>Bressant had heard little or nothing of the explanation volunteered by +the bearer of the message, but he at once recognized the yellow +telegraph-envelope, and comprehended the rest. But, ere he could leave +the window to go down and receive it, he saw the fat servant-girl, who +had witnessed the scene from the parlor, run down to the front-gate, +sinking above her ankles at every step, take the envelope from Bill's +mittened paw, exchange a word and a grin with him, and then return, +carefully stepping into the holes she had made going out.</p> + +<p>Bill gave a nod of good-will to Bressant's window—for Bressant was no +longer there—whipped up his nag, and jingled off with his milk-cans. In +another minute the fat servant-girl, after stamping the remains of the +snow off her shoes upon the door-mat, opened the door, and introduced +the dispatch and her own smiling physiognomy. Bressant snatched the +former, and shut the door in the latter, before the hand-wiping and +haranguing had time to begin.</p> + +<p>Before opening the envelope, he stood up at his full height, and filled +his lungs with a long, profound breath; then emitted it suddenly in a +sort of deep, short growl, and took his seat at the table. He tore open +the end of the envelope, pulled out the inclosure, which was an ordinary +printed telegraph-blank, filled in with three lines of writing, as +follows: "Been very ill come on at once at once must hear all no +alternative" in the scrawly and unpunctuated chirography peculiar to +written telegrams. The name signed was "M. Vauderp." Bressant read the +message, and afterward carefully perused the printing, even down to the +name of the printer's firm, which was given in very small type at the +bottom of the paper. Then he glanced over the writing once more, and +returned the paper to the envelope.</p> + +<p>"At once, at once!" muttered he; "that's the only way of writing italics +in telegraphy, I suppose. Well, I'll go at once; it's ten now; there's a +train at half-past."</p> + +<p>He unlocked a drawer in his table, and took from it a purse, which he +put in his pocket. He buttoned a pea-jacket across his broad chest, +pressed a round fur-cap on to his handsome head, took a pair of thick +gloves from the mantel-piece, and walked away without giving one +backward glance.</p> + +<p>The snow blew and drifted through the open window into the empty room; +the few remaining flowers were hustled from their stalks; the red eye of +the stove grew dimmer and dimmer, and finally faded into darkness, and +the colored drawing of the patent derrick broke loose at another corner, +and flapped and fluttered against the wall in crazy exultation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + +<h3>FACT AND FANCY.</h3> + + + +<p>The snow-storm continued all that afternoon. The customary hour for +Bressant's visit to the Parsonage went by, and he did not appear. The +professor smoked two extra pipes, and spent half an hour looking out +across the valley trying to discern the open spot upon the top of the +hill. Finally, the early twilight set in, and he returned to his chair, +but felt no impulse to light a lamp and take up a book. He sat tilted +back, pulling Shakespeare's nose with meditative fingers. A gloom +gradually settled over the room, withdrawing one after another of the +familiar objects around him from the old gentleman's sight; it even +seemed to creep into his heart, and create a vague uneasiness there. He +tried to shake it off, telling himself that he was the happiest and most +fortunate old fellow alive; that every thing was coming out just as he +had hoped and prayed it might; that one daughter, with the man of her +choice, would be just far enough removed from his fireside to give +piquancy to the frequent visits he should receive from her; while the +other would still, for a time, continue to pour out sunshine in the +house, and redouble her love for him by way of compensating for what he +should miss in Sophie's absence. And then the professor built an airier +and a fairer castle still: beneath it lay the heavy clouds of suffering, +barren effort, and hope deferred; its sunlit walls were hewn of solid +faith; the banner which floated over the battlements was woven with +white threads of truth; over the arched entrance-gate was written +"Constancy." Yet, fair and lofty as the castle was, the +building-materials were taken from no less homely edifices than the +village boarding-house and his own Parsonage!</p> + +<p>By-and-by, however, the vision faded, or else the clouds upon which it +was built rose up and hid it. The professor, returning to himself, found +that he was now surrounded with thick darkness, and, strive as he would, +he could paint no fancies upon it which did not partake more or less of +the character of the background. Sophie seemed to have lost the steady +cheer of her aspect; she was pale and fragile, and every moment took +away yet more of earthly substance, till scarcely any thing but the +faint lustre of her face and form remained. Then, all at once, the +features which had heretofore been only sad, changed into an expression +of horror and torture and despair; and, while the professor, himself +aghast, strained his old eyes to make out more clearly the +half-indistinguishable image, it vanished quite away. But, at the last +moment, it had spoken—at least, the lips bad moved as if in speech, +though no sound had reached the professor's ears; yet he fancied he had +caught a glimmering of the purport. He pressed his hands over his +forehead to shut out the thought, and wondered no longer at the +expression upon Sophie's face.</p> + +<p>Then Cornelia moved across the hollow blackness of the room. She was +sunshiny no longer, but morose and stern; her eyebrows were drawn +together; a secret defiance was in her tigerish eyes; her lips were set, +yet seemed, ever and anon, as she turned her face aside, to tremble +with a passionate yearning. As he gazed, she disappeared, but the +professor had a feeling that she was still concealed somewhere in the +darkness. And, at last, she came again—she, or something that looked +like her. The old gentleman shivered and recoiled, as though a +snow-drift had somehow blown into his warm, old heart. Was it his +daughter who looked with those unmeaning eyes, encircled with dark +rings, in which life and passion burned out had left the dull ashes of +remorse and hopelessness? Where were the luminous cheeks and the queenly +step of his proud and beautiful Cornelia?—What words were those? or was +it only fancy?—Ah!—The professor started with a sharp exclamation: but +he was alone in his dark study, and the phantom of Cornelia was gone.</p> + +<p>He composed himself in his chair again, and, presently, a third figure +grew into form and color before him. At first, as a stately young girl, +with the arched feet and hot blood of the south, and her eyes dark and +soft as a Spaniard's; but her beauty lasted but for a moment. A +withering change came over face and figure: she was cold and hard; her +youthful ardor, warmth, and freshness, had been shrivelled up or worn +away. The rich black hair grew rusty, and the dark, delicate complexion +became dull and lustreless. Nevertheless, the professor continued to +look with hopeful expectation, confident that a further alteration would +ensue, which, though, it would not restore the grace of youth, would +give a peace and happiness yet more beautiful. And, indeed, it seemed, +for a moment, as though his expectation would be gratified. The figure +raised its head, and held forth its hands, and the professor's bright +anticipation was reflected in its eyes. But, alas! the brightness faded +almost before it could be affirmed to exist. The hands dropped to the +sides, the head was averted, and the whole form shrank back, and sank to +the ground. For the third time—the professor's imagination was +certainly playing him strange tricks this evening—the ghost of spoken +words appeared to fall upon his ears, and sink like molten lead into his +heart. He groaned, and there was an oppression on his chest, so that he +struggled for breath; but, in another moment, the crouching figure was +gone, and the oppression with it; but drops of sweat stood upon the old +man's broad forehead.</p> + +<p>Still another vision awaits him, however, and he draws himself up +sternly to encounter it, and a heavy frown lowers on his thick gray +eyebrows. But the lofty form which confronts him, massive and stalwart, +alike in mind and body, meets his gaze unflinchingly, and frowns back in +angry defiance. The old professor pauses in his intended denunciation, +being taken aback somewhat, at the unexpected counter-accusation which +strikes out at him from the young man's eyes. Yet do his self-confidence +and indignation become reconfirmed, for there, behind, the three former +phantoms appear together, and seem to launch against the last a deadly +shaft of bitter reproach and judgment. The professor watches it cleave a +passage through the stalwart figure's heart, and he bows his head, and +thinks—it is but justice! In the same instant, a cry of intensest pain +and horror escapes him: the deadly arrow, additionally poisoned by the +blood it has just shed, has passed quite through the spectre of his +former pupil, and is buried up to the feather in Professor Valeyon's +own vitals! This shock effectually wakened the old gentleman—for, after +all, he had only been having an uneasy nap in his straight-backed +chair!—and he started to his feet, and fumbled nervously for the +match-box. Just then, Sophie appeared at the door with a lamp in her +hand—the real Sophie, this time—no intangible shadow.</p> + +<p>"Why, papa dear! What are you doing in here in the dark? Have you been +asleep?"</p> + +<p>"Come here, my dear!" said the professor, in a shaken voice, holding out +his hand. He took her on his knee, and hugged her to him eagerly, +passing his hand down her arm, and pressing her slender fingers. "Are +you well and happy, Sophie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa," she answered, laying her head as usual on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"He—your—young man didn't come to-day?" continued the professor, with +an attempt to be jocose. "He's getting very squeamish to be kept back by +a snow-storm!" Sophie replied only by nestling closer to her father's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Where's Neelie?" inquired the professor, again breaking the silence.</p> + +<p>"She's seeing about supper, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Have you heard any thing about Abbie lately?" proceeded the other. He +must have been either strangely anxious to keep up a conversation, or +unusually inquisitive, this evening.</p> + +<p>"Not very lately; I saw her about a week ago. She didn't look in very +good spirits, it seemed to me."</p> + +<p>"Not in good spirits, eh? not in good spirits? and that was a week ago! +was she ill?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think there was any thing the matter—with her health, I mean; +she only looked very sad—as if something had almost broken her heart. +But then she always is grave, you know."</p> + +<p>"She has been of late years, that's certain," muttered the old man, +gruffly; "and does she begin to be broken-hearted <i>now</i>!" he added, to +himself. More thoughts, and angry ones, he might have had, but the +memory of his untoward dream still hovered about him, and he suppressed +them.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, papa?" demanded Sophie, with an inquietude of +manner which attracted the professor's attention. He laid his finger on +her pulse, and touched her forehead.</p> + +<p>"You've taken cold, my dear," he said, with the most tender anxiety of +tone. "What have you been doing? How have you exposed yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I was out on the porch about an hour ago," replied she, languidly. "I +wanted to—to see if he was coming, you know. The snow came on me a +little, I believe, and I had on my slippers. But I didn't feel any +thing—any cold. I was out only a moment."</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon turned his strong-featured face away from the lamp, so +that the shadow covered his expression. He could feel the heat of +Sophie's cheek through his coat, as she lay heavily on his shoulder; +heavily, but not half so heavily there as upon his heart. But, with the +physician's instinct, his voice was on that account all the more +cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, my little girl; it won't do to run any risks nowadays, +remember! I shall make you drink a big cup of hot water, with a little +tea and sugar in it, and go to bed early, with three or four extra +blankets. Meanwhile, come! let's go and see whether Cornelia has got +supper ready yet." So saying, the old gentleman gained his feet, +offering his arm with a bow, took up the lamp with his other hand, and +off they went, leaving Shakespeare's plaster bust placidly to face the +darkness alone, as he had often done before.</p> + +<p>The next morning the storm was over, and the sun came dazzling over the +spotless fields, but Sophie kept her bed, with bright, restless eyes, +and hot checks. The professor dreaded a return of the typhoid pneumonia, +and paced his study incessantly, in a voiceless fever of anxiety; +physically exhausting himself the better to affect quiet and unconcern +when in her room. He mentioned his fears to no one—not even to +Cornelia; besides, if care were taken, she might recover yet, without +fatal, or even serious danger. To herself, therefore, and to all who +inquired, he spoke of her attack as merely a cold, which must be nursed +for prudence' sake. Meanwhile, no signs of Bressant. Sophie said not a +word, but Cornelia showed uneasiness, and kept making suggestive remarks +to her father, and hazarding unsatisfactory explanations of his absence. +She never ventured to say any thing to her sister on the subject, +however. There was a gulf between the two that widened like a river, +hour by hour.</p> + +<p>Toward evening a letter came from the boarding-house, directed to +Professor Valeyon. It was in Abbie's handwriting, and must contain some +news of Bressant. The old gentleman shut himself up in his room, the +better to deal with the intelligence, and the paper rustled nervously +in his fingers as he read; but the news amounted to little, after all.</p> + +<p>"For fear dear Sophie and you should feel anxious about Mr. Bressant, I +will tell you all I know of his absence," said the letter. "A telegram +came for him yesterday morning about ten. Joanna, the servant, who took +it up to him, says Mr. Reynolds told her it was from New York. So I +suppose some friend there—you will probably be able to say who—has +been taken very dangerously ill, or perhaps is dead. The summons must +have been very urgent, for he left his room not ten minutes afterward, +and took the half-past ten o'clock train down.</p> + +<p>"I feel sure he will be back by to-morrow evening. Don't let your +daughters fail to be here to meet him."</p> + +<p>After reading this, and without pausing to indulge in casuistry, +Professor Valeyon betook himself straight to Sophie's chamber.</p> + +<p>"You've heard something!" said she, in a low, assured tone the moment he +entered. "A letter? give it me—I would rather read it myself."</p> + +<p>The professor gave it into her hand, with a smile; but Sophie's eyes +were too deep and dark for any smile to glimmer through. As she opened +it he turned his back upon her, and saw out of the window the sinking +sun redden the snow-covered hill-top above the road.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm sure he will be back to-morrow," said Sophie's quiet voice +after a minute or two. She made no comment on his having allowed any +thing to take him away at such a time—on the eve of his +marriage—without first sending word to her; but gave Abbie's letter +back into her father's keeping, and lay with closed eyes. He sat down in +the chair by the bedside, and presently noticed that she lay more +peacefully, and breathed inaudibly and easily, and that the feverish +flush was leaving her cheeks. A slight moisture, too, made itself +perceptible on her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Her life is in this fellow's hand!" thought the professor, and he +trembled to his very heart, but dared not ask himself wherefore.</p> + +<p>"Do you really think it would hurt me to sew, dear papa?" said she, at +length, looking up from her pillow.</p> + +<p>"Better let sewing and every thing else alone for the present, my dear; +it'll be enough work to get all well again by next Sunday."</p> + +<p>Sophie sighed. "I did so want to finish my wedding-dress all myself," +said she. "It needs only a few hours' work now, and Cornelia is so busy +on her own account, it's hard to ask her. Oh, yes! dear papa, I know how +glad she'd be to help me," she added quickly, seeing the old gentleman's +eyebrows meet, and his forehead redden.</p> + +<p>"I should hope she would! Must be very busy if she hasn't time to do so +much as that!" growled he. "I'll send her up to you, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Papa!" said Sophie, calling him back from the door; and it was not +until she had possession of his hand and was holding it against her +cheek that she went on. "Don't let the wedding be put off, if I +shouldn't be able to sit up on Sunday. I'll be carried down into the +guest-chamber, where he was ill for so long. Don't—papa, I know you +won't think hardly of me; but I feel a kind of superstition about that +particular day and hour: that if all is not done then, it never will be. +Am not I foolish? But do let it be so, and never mind wisdom!"</p> + +<p>There was a vein of strenuous earnestness only partly concealed beneath +her words and manner, which the gruff old gentleman, who was as +sensitive as a photographic plate, where his affections were concerned, +did not fail to note. He kissed her on both cheeks—a fully sufficient +answer to her request, and shuffled out of the room in his old slippers; +which, thanks to Sophie's filial attentions, still held together with +dying faith fulness.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day the two sisters passed together—Cornelia working +upon her sister's wedding-dress, and Sophie guiding her by directions +and suggestions. Not since they first began to grow apart, had there +been between them so great an appearance of sisterly love and +cordiality. Yet, if Cornelia allowed herself to think at all, it must +have seemed, in the light of her purpose regarding Bressant, as if she +was preparing a shroud rather than a wedding-garment. Or, perhaps, as +she observed the change which even so brief and light an illness had +made in Sophie's delicate face, there may have lurked, in the secret +places of her mind, a darker and guiltier thought than that. But let not +our condemnation be too unconditional, lest the precedent come home, +some day, to ourselves. It may astonish us, hereafter, to discover how +many of our most respectable acquaintances are murderers—only in +thought!</p> + +<p>But Sophie's condition seemed steadily to improve, and, by the morning +of the 30th, the professor apprehended no danger but from imprudence. +That she should attend Abbie's party was, of course, out of the +question; but there was no longer any obstacle in the way of Cornelia's +availing herself of the entertainment, if she were so inclined.</p> + +<p>Deadly and immitigable as woman's purpose is often represented to be, it +may, especially before she becomes thoroughly hardened to crime, be +swayed by shades of feeling or sentiment which would appear, to a man, +ridiculously trifling, and which, indeed, she could not herself explain +or calculate upon; and there is the more likelihood of this, in +proportion to the depth to which her emotions and affections are +involved in the affair. As to Cornelia, there are no means of +determining whether she ever wavered in her designs against her sister's +happiness, and her friend's constancy, or not; she, at any rate, decided +to go to the ball, and even condescended to accept Mr. Reynolds's tender +of his escort thither. There are a host of respectable motives always on +hand for such occasions, and Cornelia might be going either from a +curiosity to find out whether Bressant would return, and in order, if +so, to bring her sister the latest news; or, to obtain relief from the +monotony of home-life; or, to oblige Abbie, who counted upon her +appearance; or, to display her ball-dress, cut after the latest New-York +pattern; or, all these small matters may have been the wheels whereon +rolled the invisible car, but for which they would not have existed.</p> + +<p>As she was attiring herself, Sophie, who was seated in her deep +invalid-chair, looking at her, was seized by an uncontrollable longing +to put on her wedding-dress, and satisfy her mind as to its being a good +fit. There it lay, upon the sofa, and nothing could be easier than just +to slip into it. Cornelia, absorbed in her own crowded thoughts, never +dreamed of opposing the idea, and lent all necessary assistance to carry +it out. It was not until Mr. Reynolds had sent up word that the sleigh +waited at the door, and, gathering up her cloak and tippet, she had +kissed Sophie, left her, and was hurrying down-stairs with rustling +skirts, that she realized that she had given her parting salute to one +dressed as a bride!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + +<h3>A DISAPPOINTMENT.</h3> + + + +<p>There could not have been a better night for sleighing. The temperature +had risen considerably since the storm, and the snow, which had fallen +to the depth of a foot, was already packed down hard upon the road, so +that the runners seldom sank beneath the surface. Moreover, there was a +full moon, just pushing its deep orange circumference above the horizon. +It had chanced to come up just where a black skeleton forest stood out +against the sky, encouraging the fancy that it had somehow got entangled +in the branches, and had grown red in the face from struggling to get +out. But, ere the young people reached the scene of the entertainment, +the struggle was over; the perfect circle was calmly and radiantly +uplifting itself above the world, far beyond the reach of the +outstretched arms of the gnarled and black-limbed forest; yet did the +dark earth benefit by its defeat, in the chaste illumination which +descended upon its wintry countenance.</p> + +<p>Mr. Reynolds was perfectly happy; it is pleasant to reflect how small an +amount of bliss can overflow some souls. Cornelia was brief but kind in +her answers to his turbid and confused pourings forth; not that she paid +heed to any thing the poor fellow said—she was only occasionally aware +of his presence. Her mind was revelling in dreams of heated and exalted +imagination; she was filled with inspiration, as with the rich, +palpitating blast of a mighty organ; but the tumultuous chorus of her +thoughts produced upon her an effect of magnetism which found its +expression in a gentle graciousness of words and manner.</p> + +<p>She had made up her mind that the first person she should meet would be +Bressant; and, so full did she feel of victorious power, it seemed as +if, with scarcely a conscious effort, she could overbear and bring him +to her feet. Yes, and dictate the terms upon which she would consent to +receive his homage. What a pity that the key-notes of so few natures +correspond, at the critical moment, with our own; and that Providence +sees fit to forward, by even negative help, so small a proportion of our +superbly-conceived plans!</p> + +<p>It was half-past eight when they drew up at the boarding-house door. No +sooner had Cornelia set foot within the threshold, and caught sight of +Abbie's face, than it was borne in upon her that Bressant was not there; +and the former, after questioning her about Sophie's non-appearance, +confirmed her fear. He had not come, nor was it now probable that he +would arrive before morning. It would have been useless to expect him by +the late train, due at half-past ten, since, to avail himself of that, +it would be necessary to make a difficult connection by walking two or +three miles from one railway to another.</p> + +<p>After climbing to such a height, it was terrible to fall. Cornelia +had not allowed herself to anticipate the disaster, precisely because +it was so crashing. In a moment the great, rainbow-tinted bubble of her +hope and imagination had burst, leaving only a bitter and unpleasant +sense of the paltry and unclean materials—the soap-suds and +clay-pipe—wherewith it had been created.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, the polite fictions which she had lubricated her conscience +withal, regarding her desires and intentions, were shown up at precisely +their true value, and a very discreditable spectacle they made. Nothing +is more exasperating after a failure than to be stared out of +countenance by the unworthy means we have employed. During her progress +up-stairs to the dressing-room, and brief stay there, Cornelia had ample +leisure to review her thoughts and deeds during the latter months of her +life. What a waste of time, opportunity, and emotion! It was a tragedy +of ridicule and a farce of profound pathos.</p> + +<p>Her perception of these things was assisted by the depression which +reacted upon her previous excitement: it had an embarrassing way of +presenting, in the clearest colors, whatever in her conduct had been +most unwise and indefensible. She could have borne it easily had there +been as much as one stirring struggle for victory, even had the struggle +resulted in defeat. Her state of mind might have borne analogy to his +who, having deeply caroused overnight in celebration of some glorious +triumph, learned, upon coming to his racked and tortured senses the next +day, that it was a triumph for the other side.</p> + +<p>Had the sense of despair been less overwhelming, had Cornelia been +merely disappointed, rage would have taken the place of depression, and +her thoughts would have run in far different channels. But there was no +hope: this was her last chance of all: hereafter a rampart would be +erected against her, which she neither was able nor dared to scale. +There was no element in her position that could make it endurable, and +yet there was no escape. She had not enough spirit of enterprise left to +return home at once, but yielded herself with torpid insensibility to +whoever chose to make a suggestion. She wonderingly speculated as to how +she had ever been able to originate an idea herself.</p> + +<p>The evening dragged its slow length along, and dragged Cornelia with it. +To be where she was, was insupportable; but to go back to the Parsonage +was worse still; and the thought of the solitary drive thither with the +overflowing Mr. Reynolds filled her with a nauseating pain of +anticipation.</p> + +<p>It could not have been far from midnight when she awoke to a sense of +being alone and not far from the side-door into the yard. Her +partner—whoever he was—had gone to get her some ice-cream or a cup of +coffee. Cornelia did not wait for his return, but walked quickly and +unobserved to the door, which stood a few inches ajar, opened it, passed +through, and stood in the unconfined air. The keen intensity of the +tonic made her nostrils ache, and her uncovered bosom heave. She +unbuttoned one of her gloves, and, taking some snow in her hand, pressed +it to her warm temples, and then let it drop shivering into her breast.</p> + +<p>"It must feel like that to die, I suppose," thought she. "If I were +Sophie, now, that snow would be the death of me in two days: as it is, I +shall only have a cold in the head to-morrow. There seems to be no +reason in these things."</p> + +<p>A dark figure turned the farther corner of the house, and came +ploughing through the snow immediately under the eaves, dragging one +hand along the clapboards as it came. The crunching of the snow caught +Cornelia's ears, and she turned and recognized the figure in half a +breath. The great height, the massive breadth, the easy, springing +tread—it was Bressant from head to foot. He was buttoned up in a short +pea-jacket, and there was a round fur cap on his head. As Cornelia +turned upon him, he stopped a moment, standing quite motionless, with +the fingers of one hand resting on the side of the house. Then he came +close up to her and grasped her wrist with his gloved hand.</p> + +<p>"Where is Sophie?" demanded he in his rapid, muffled voice.</p> + +<p>"She's ill: she caught cold: she's at home," answered Cornelia, who, at +the first recognition, had felt a kind of twang through all her nerves, +and was now trying to control the effects of the shock. There was +something queer in Bressant's manner—in the way he looked at her.</p> + +<p>"But you came," rejoined he, stooping down and peering into her +beautiful, troubled face. He broke into a laugh, which terrified +Cornelia greatly, because he laughed so seldom. "One might know you'd +come. You thought I'd be here: you came to see me, and here I am. Will +Sophie get well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! she was much better. When I left she had on +her—wedding-dress."</p> + +<p>Bressant drew in his breath hissingly between his teeth, and his fingers +tightened a moment round Cornelia's wrist. The pain forced a sob from +her and turned her lips pale. He paid no attention to her, presently +dropped her wrist, and put his hands behind him, grinding the snow +beneath his heel, and looking down.</p> + +<p>"Whom is she going to marry?" was his next question, asked without +raising his head.</p> + +<p>"You!" exclaimed Cornelia, in astonishment and fear. The answer sprang +to her lips without forethought or reflection, so much had the strange +question startled her.</p> + +<p>But he again stooped down and peered into her eyes, watching the effect +of his words on her as he spoke them.</p> + +<p>"No, no! I am not he who promised to marry her. She wouldn't have me, if +I asked her: she don't know me. I'm going to marry some one else. +<i>She'll</i> love me, no matter who I am. Shall I tell you her name?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia could only shiver—shiver—with dry mouth and dilated eyes. +Bressant put his hand on her shoulder, and drew her forward a step or +two, so that the white moonlight fell upon her.</p> + +<p>"Cornelia Valeyon is her name," said he, and then, as she remained +rigid, he bent forward, with a whispered laugh, and kissed her on the +face.</p> + +<p>"There! now we belong to each other—a good match, aren't we? Quick! +now; run into the house, and get your things on. You must walk home with +me, and we'll arrange every thing. Go! I shall wait for you here."</p> + +<p>She reentered the house, cold and dizzy, just as her partner arrived +with the coffee. She explained—what scarcely needed to be told—that +she felt faint: she must go up-stairs. In three minutes she had put her +satin-slippered feet into a pair of water-proof overshoes, pinned up +her trailing skirts, thrown on her long wadded mantle, with sleeves and +hood, and had got down-stairs again before "assistance" could arrive. +All the time, there was a burning and tingling where his lips had been, +but she would not put up her hand to touch the spot, and relieve the +sensation. It was, in a manner, sacred to her; albeit the sanctity was +largely mingled with bewilderment, remorse, and fear. When she came out, +Bressant was standing where she had left him, tossing a couple of +snow-balls from one hand to another. He dropped them as she approached, +and brushed the snow from his gloves. She took the arm he offered +her—timidly, and yet feeling that it was all in the world she had to +cling to. It was true—by that kiss she belonged to him, for it had made +her a traitor to all else on whom she had hitherto had a claim. Yet upon +how different a footing did they stand with one another from that which +she had prefigured to herself! This was he whom she was to have brought +vanquished to her feet! With one motion of his strong, masculine hand he +had swept away all her fine-spun cobwebs of opportunity and method, and +had laid his clutch upon the very marrow of her soul. But though she had +lost the command, she was party, if not principal, to the guilt. It was +he who had taken fire from her.</p> + +<p>"You remember last summer," said he, "that night when an arch was in the +sky? We didn't understand one another then, and I didn't understand +myself. But, during the last day or two, I've been thinking it all over. +I've had too good an opinion of myself all along."</p> + +<p>"What is it that you've been thinking?" asked Cornelia, feeling +repelled, and yet driven, by a piteous necessity, to know all the +contents, good or bad, of this heart which was her only possession.</p> + +<p>"Of all that had been said or done this last half-year. There's nothing +you care for more than me, is there?" he demanded, concentrating the +greatest emphasis into the question.</p> + +<p>"If you care for me—if I can be every thing to you"—Cornelia's voice +was broken and tossed upon the uncontrolled waves of fighting emotions, +and she could give little care to the form and manner of her speech.</p> + +<p>"I love you—of course I love you!—what else is there for me to do? But +I've been all this time trying to find out what love was. I thought I +loved Sophie, you know."</p> + +<p>Bressant's strange words and altered manner dismayed Cornelia. What was +the matter with him? She could not get it out of her head that some +awful event must have happened, but she knew not how to frame inquiries. +Bressant continued—a determined levity in his tone was yet occasionally +broken down by a stroke of feeling terribly real:</p> + +<p>"I was a great fool—you should have told me; you knew more about it +than I did. It was my self-conceit—I thought nothing was too good for +me. When I saw you I thought you were the flower of the world, so I +wanted you. Well—you are—the flower of the world!"</p> + +<p>"He does love me!" said Cornelia to herself, and she knew a momentary +pang of bliss which no consideration of honor or rectitude had power to +dull or diminish.</p> + +<p>"But, afterward," he went on, his voice lowering for an instant, "I saw +an angel—something above all the flowers of this world—and I was fool +enough to imagine she would suit me better still. You never thought so, +did you, Cornelia?" he added, with a half laugh; "well—you should have +told me!"</p> + +<p>How he dragged her up and down, and struck her where she was most +defenseless! Did he do it on purpose, or unconsciously?</p> + +<p>"I mistook worship for love—that was the trouble, I fancy. Luckily, I +found out in time it won't do to love what is highest—it can only make +one mad. Love what you can understand—that's the way! See how wise I've +become."</p> + +<p>Bressant's laugh affected Cornelia like a deadly drug. Her speech was +fettered, and she moved without her own will or guidance.</p> + +<p>"I found out—just in time—that I needed more body and less soul—less +goodness and—more Cornelia!" he concluded, epigrammatically.</p> + +<p>So this was her position. It could hardly be more humiliating. Yet how +could she rebel? for was not the yoke of her own manufacture? Indeed, +had she been put to it, she might have found it a difficult matter to +distinguish between the actual relation now subsisting between Bressant +and herself, and that which she had been, for months past, striving to +effect. He had met her half-way, that was all.</p> + +<p>But surely it was only during this absence that this idea of abandoning +Sophie, and turning to herself, had occurred to him. Half as a question, +half as an exclamation, the words found their way through Cornelia's +twitching lips—</p> + +<p>"What has happened to you since you went away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! since we love each other, there's no use talking about that at +present. If I had any idea of marrying Sophie, now, I should have to go +and tell her every thing. It's so convenient to be certain that +<i>nothing</i> can change your love for me, Cornelia! No, no! I wouldn't be +so suspicious of you as to tell you now."</p> + +<p>"When am I to know, then?" she asked, fearful of she knew not what.</p> + +<p>"After we're married, there shall be a clearing up of it all. You'll be +much amused! By-the-way, I found out one queer thing—what my real name +is!"</p> + +<p>"Your real name!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—who I am; you know I said I wasn't the same who was engaged to +marry Sophie. Well, I'm not; he was a myth—there was no such person. I +always thought 'Bressant' was an <i>incognito</i>, didn't you? But it turns +out to be the only name I have! I hope you like it; do you think 'Mrs. +Bressant' sounds well?"</p> + +<p>"What does all this mean? What are you going to do with me? Are you +making a sport of me?" cried Cornelia, clasping both hands over +Bressant's arm, in a passion of helplessness. Much as she loved life, +she would, at that moment, have died rather than feel that she was +ridiculed and deserted by him.</p> + +<p>They had come to the brow of the hill on which the village stood, +overlooking the valley, which moon and snow together lit up into a sort +of phantom daylight. The moon hung aloft, directly above their heads, +and the narrow circumference of their shadows, lying close at their +feet, were mingled indistinguishably together. Cornelia, in the energy +of her appeal, had stopped walking, and the two stood, for a moment, +looking at one another. Seen from a few yards' distance, they would have +made a supremely beautiful and romantic picture.</p> + +<p>The stately poise of Bressant's gigantic figure—the slight inclination +of his head and shoulders toward Cornelia—presented an ideal model for +a tender and protecting lover. She, in form and bearing, the incarnation +of earthly grace and symmetry, her lovely upturned face revealed in +deep, soft shadows and sweet, melting lights, her rounded fingers +interlaced across his arm, her bosom lifting and letting fall +irregularly the cloak that lay across it—what completer embodiment +could there be of happy, self-surrendering, trusting, young womanhood? +And what were the fitly-spoken words—the apples of gold in this picture +of silver?</p> + +<p>"Cornelia," said Bressant, throwing aside the levity, as well as the +underlying passion, of his tone, and speaking with a slightly impatient +coldness, "don't you begin to be a fool as soon as I leave it off. You +may call what joins us together love, if you like, but it's not worth +getting excited about. You take me because you were jealous of Sophie, +and because you've compromised yourself. I take you because you're +beautiful to look at, and—because nobody else would have me! We shall +have plenty of money, which will help us along. But what is there in our +relations to make us either enthusiastic or miserable?—Come along!"</p> + +<p>This was the consummation of Cornelia's passionate hopes and torturing +fears, of her dishonorable intriguing and reckless self-desecration. She +became very calm all of a sudden, and, without making any rejoinder, she +"came along" as he bade her, and they descended the hill.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + +<h3>FOUND.</h3> + + + +<p>Sophie, having carried her point regarding her wedding-dress, had +nothing better to do after Cornelia had left her than to give herself up +to reverie. She had a private purpose to sit up until her sister's +return, that she might hear all about Bressant, and why he had stayed +away so long and sent no word. That he had returned, expecting to meet +her at the ball, she entertained not the slightest doubt; nor was there +at this time any suspicion or misgiving in her mind about his fidelity +and love.</p> + +<p>Mankind's ignorance of the future is, beyond dispute, a blessing; yet we +could wish, for Sophie, that so much presentiment of what was to come +might be hers as to lead her to concentrate all possible happy thoughts +into the few hours that remained wherein she might yet be happy. She had +full scope and freedom to think what she would—no less than if a +hundred years of earthly bliss had awaited her. Her life had been full +of all manner of spiritual beauties and perfumes—a divine poem, though +written upon clay. Let only the harmony of sweet music float about her +now, and the shadow of what was to come be not cast over her.</p> + +<p>She sat in her deep, soft easy-chair, with its high back, and square, +roomy seat. An open-grate stove furnished light to the room, for Sophie +had blown out her candle. As the flame rose or sank, the various objects +round about stood visible, or vanished duskily away. Endymion, over the +mantel-piece, still slept as peacefully as ever, and the smile, though +forever upon his lips, seemed always to have but that moment alighted +there. How tenderly the lustrous touch of the moon brightened on his +white shoulder!</p> + +<p>The golden letters of the Lord's Prayer gleamed ever and anon from the +shadow above the bed, and sent the shining beauty of a sentence across +to Sophie's eyes; and the face of the cherub, with his chin upon his +hand, was turned upward in immortal adoration. Sophie's glance rested +thoughtfully upon one and then the other. They were incorporated into +her life. Would they have power to protect her from evil and suffering? +Well, the words of the Prayer settle that question most wisely.</p> + +<p>How silent the house was and how light it was out-doors! Sophie rose +from her chair by the fire and walked slowly to the window. A board +creaked beneath her quiet foot and a red coal fell with a gentle thud +into the ash-receiver. Then, as Sophie leaned against the window, she +heard the little ormolu clock, in the room below, faintly tinkle out the +half-hour after eleven. Before long—in an hour, perhaps—Cornelia would +be back, rosy with the cold, fresh, laughing, and full of news. Dear +Neelie! How Sophie wished that she might find a love as deep and a +happiness as perfect as had come to her. It hardly seemed fair that she +should monopolize so much of the world's joy. True, God knows best; but +Sophie, with her forehead against the cold window-pane, prayed that +Cornelia might speedily become as blessed as herself. Then she turned +to go back to her chair, casting a parting glance at the white road, +with the glistening track of sleigh-runners visible as far as the bend. +No moving thing was in sight. In stepping from the window her foot +caught in the skirt of her wedding-dress, and she narrowly escaped +falling. The loose board creaked again, dismally; but Sophie laughed at +her clumsiness, and, recovering her balance, reached her chair and sat +down in it. How warm and pleasant it was! The walls of the room seemed +to draw up cozily around the stove, and nod to one another +good-naturedly. They loved Sophie and would do all they could to make +her comfortable and secure. She sat quite still, and perhaps fell into a +light, half-waking slumber.</p> + +<p>A while afterward, she suddenly started in her chair, her head raised, +as if listening. The fire burnt as warmly as ever, but Sophie was +trembling incontrollably, and her heart was beating most unmercifully. +She walked quickly and blindly, with outstretched hands, to the window. +This time the ominous board forbore to creak. Its omen was fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Without hesitating, she threw up the window, and, unmindful of the +tingling inrush of cold air, she leaned out, and looked down through the +arched window of the porch. The bare vines that struggled across it +afforded no interception to the view of the two figures standing within. +Sophie gazed at them as a bird does at a snake; she could not take her +eyes away; she could not move nor utter a sound. It was like the +oppression and paralysis of a fearful dream. Was she dreaming?</p> + +<p>It was a terribly vivid dream, at any rate. She seemed to see one of +the figures—a woman—clasp the man's hand passionately in hers and +speak. The voice was known to her; it was as familiar as her own; but +the words it uttered made her sure she was asleep. Thank God! it wasn't +real. She would wake up in a moment, and shudder to think how ugly a +dream it had been. Oh, if she could only awaken before this conversation +went any further! It was breaking her heart: it was killing her. She had +heard of people who died in their sleep—was it from such dreams as +this?</p> + +<p>She seemed to have heard two voices—voices that she loved and knew as +well as her own heart—talking a horrible, unholy jargon about some +purpose—some plan—something that it was a sin even to listen to or +imagine; but, as in a dream, she had no choice but to listen. She tried +to shake off the delusion—to see, to prove that what she saw and heard +was false. But still it lasted, and lasted. Still those wicked sentences +kept creeping into her ears and deadening her heart. O God! would it +never cease—would there never be an end?</p> + +<p>At length the end seemed about to come. But, ah! the end was worst of +all. Shame—shame to her that such sinful imaginings should visit her +brain. She saw the figure of the man turn away as if to go; but the +woman caught him by the arm, and lifted her beautiful, guilty face up +toward his as if beseeching him for a parting kiss. She saw him stoop +his dark, bearded head, with a half-impatient gesture, and kiss the +beautiful woman's mouth, then motion her toward the house. "Make haste +and put on your travelling dress," he seemed to say; "I'll walk up the +road a little way and wait for you."</p> + +<p>Sophie found power to slip down from the window after that, but she knew +she was dreaming still. She heard a stealthy footstep on the stairs and +along the entry; it seemed to pause, and hesitate a moment at her door; +but then it went on and entered Cornelia's room. If she only could go to +her lover, Sophie thought. If she only could speak to him and feel his +arms around her. And why should she not? he had but just gone up the +road. She would slip out and run after him. It was deadly cold: she was +in her white wedding-dress. Yes; but then it was a dream—nothing but a +dream—no harm could come of it.</p> + +<p>She lifted herself softly from the floor, and moved toward the door. She +passed the looking-glass on the dressing-table as she went, and cast a +darkling glance into it. A haggard ghost seemed to stare back at her, +with crazy eyes. A braid of brown, silky hair had become loosened, and +was creeping down upon the spectre's shoulders.</p> + +<p>Sophie stole along as noiselessly as a cat. She descended the staircase, +glided down the passage, opened the outer door, and was on the frozen +porch. The chill of the air passed through her as if she had been indeed +but a spirit. The dream must surely be a dream of death. She ran down +the icy path to the gate, and, looking along the road, saw that a tall +figure had nearly reached the spur of the hill, around which the road +turned. By hurrying she would yet be able to over-take him. She passed +through the gate without causing a creak or a rattle, gathered up her +light skirt, and started to run as speedily as she might.</p> + +<p>The cold snow penetrated through her thin slippers and made her feet +ache and sting. The breeze forced a cruel entrance through the bosom of +her dress, as if to freeze the heart that was beating so. As she ran on, +she began to pant so heavily it seemed as if every breath must be her +last. The familiar road, the well-known outline of the hills, the +stone-walls, the stretch of woods to the left, where she had walked so +often last fall, all looked now ghastly and unreal—a world whose only +sun was the moon—a fitting world for such a dream as this.</p> + +<p>Still she staggered onward, slipping in the polished ruts of the +sleigh-runners, plunging into the deep snow. Her body was cold as the +winter itself, but her head was burning as if a fire were within it. She +reached the bend, and her eyes strained wildly up the road. There! far +ahead, marked black against the ghastly snow—there! still moving +away—farther away. Would she ever reach him?</p> + +<p>It was hopeless, and yet she kept on. Rather than let him go without +having assured her it was all a wicked dream—without having hugged her +in his arms, and given her her good-night kiss—without having called +her his own, only Sophie, and promised he would always love her and no +other—rather than give up all this, she would die in the pursuit, and +it were well that she should die. So on she ran: her brain reeled, she +could scarcely feel whether her limbs yet moved: there was a griping in +her heart, and her breath came in short gasps of agony. The earth +darkened and tipped before her eyes, but her resolve never faltered. To +reach him, or die. Oh! how gladly she would die, if only she might +reach him. Was not that he—there—only a short way on? Might not her +voice reach him? Would not some good angel bear it to him? Even then she +stumbled, and fell forward on her knees; but, ere she sank quite down, +she threw forth a wild, piercing, despairing cry, giving to it her whole +desolate soul—</p> + +<p>"Bressant! Bressant!"</p> + +<p>Then blackness obliterated every thing. But Bressant, as he walked +heavily along, encompassed with bitter and miserable thoughts, suddenly +halted, as if an iron hand had been laid upon his shoulder. Either he +had actually heard a faint echo of that unearthly cry, or his spiritual +ear had taken cognizance of the call of Sophie's soul. He turned himself +about, with a quaking heart. There was the long white road, but no human +being was visible upon it. Yet he knew that Sophie's voice had called +him. She must be near. Slowly he began to walk back, half dreading to +behold her image rise before him, with deep, reproachful eyes.</p> + +<p>He had not gone twenty yards, when he started back, having almost set +his foot upon something which lay face downward in the snow, clad in a +dress almost as white. He would not have seen her but for her brown +hair, which, falling loosely about, was caught and stirred by the +inquisitive breeze. She herself lay quite still.</p> + +<p>Bressant took her beneath the arms, and lifted her up. Crouching down, +he supported her head against his shoulder, and brushed away the snow +that had adhered to her face. There was a cut upon her chin, but the +blood, after running a few moments, had congealed. Her eyes were not +quite shut, but the lids were stiff and immovable. The mouth, too, was a +little open. Was it the moonlight that gave her that death-like look? or +was she dead indeed?</p> + +<p>The young man broke out into a long, wavering cry. It was not weeping; +it was not laughter; yet it bore a resemblance to both. It curdled his +own blood, but he could not repress it. It was the voice of +overstrained, unendurable emotion, and a horrible voice it was to hear. +He feared he was losing his senses—looking in that white, motionless +face, and uttering such a cry! At last, however, it died away, and there +was silence. The silence was almost worse than the cry—the utter +silence of a winter night.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" he said to himself, helplessly.</p> + +<p>The unearthly voice, and the discovery to which it had led, following +the other events of the night, had made Bressant unfit to deal with this +matter after his usual ready and practical style. But he would have +found the problem an awkward one at his best. How could he appear at the +Parsonage? What account could he give there of this lifeless body? What +account could he give of it to himself? He was utterly bewildered and +aghast. It seemed that the dead had risen from the grave, to drag him +relentlessly back to the fullest glare of earthly ignominy—to the +keenest experience of human suffering. And yet, did he quite deserve it? +Was there no grain of leaven in his lump of sinfulness and weakness, if +all were known? He is a hardened criminal, indeed, who can find no hope +in the thought of appealing from human judgment to Divine!</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Mr. Reynolds had been luxuriating in a very unmistakable +sense of injury. To some persons there are a positive relief and +gratification in being really wronged: it raises their estimate of their +own importance: by virtue of their title to feel angry, disappointed, or +deceived, they can take their place in a higher than their ordinary +rank. So Mr. Reynolds, finding himself qualified to plead a clear case +of absolute and unwarrantable desertion, held up his head, and bore +himself with becoming dignity.</p> + +<p>His dignity did not, however, interfere with his seeking to drown his +slight in the good, old-fashioned way. He solaced himself beyond +prudence with the varied products of the hotel bar, and then settled +himself solitary in his sleigh and jingled homeward. His road took him +past the Parsonage, and he enlivened the lonely way by scraps of songs, +reflections upon the perfidy of women, and portentous yawns at intervals +of two or three minutes. In fact, by the time he had gone a mile the +most predominant sensation he had was sleepiness, and half a mile more +came very near making a second Endymion of him. From this, however, he +was preserved by the very sudden stoppage of his sleigh, which threw him +on his knees against the dasher, and forcibly knocked his eyes open. He +rolled over to the ground, but, happening to light on his feet, he stood +unsteadily erect, and asked a very tall and powerful man, who was +holding his horse's head, when he was going to let that drop?</p> + +<p>Receiving no intelligible answer, he stumbled in the powerful man's +direction, perhaps contemplating the performance of some deed of +desperate valor. Meanwhile the object of his hostility had relinquished +his hold of the horse, and appeared kneeling on the ground, supporting +the form of a woman, dressed in a tasteful white dress, with dark, +disordered hair lying around her colorless face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> + +<h3>LOST.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Reynolds immediately paused, and regarded this group for some +moments with an air of singular sagacity and archness.</p> + +<p>"I say, young fellow," ejaculated he, at length, with an evident effort +to attain distinctness of utterance, "that sort of thing won't do, you +know."</p> + +<p>Bressant looked up and recognized the rustic bacchanalian for the first +time. He had always had a peculiar antipathy to this young gentleman; +but at this moment it was intensified into a loathing. How could he ask +assistance from such a degraded creature as this?</p> + +<p>The recognition had been mutual, and Mr. Reynolds, tacking unsteadily +around, brought himself to bear in such a position as to catch a fair +view of Sophie's face, with the spot of blood on her chin. The first +glance so terrified him, that he utterly, forsook his footing, and came +abruptly to the ground, never once taking his eyes from the face, all +the way. But the shock of his fall, and the awful solemnity of what he +saw, sobered him considerably. He turned to Bressant, and eyed him with +anxious earnestness.</p> + +<p>"Why, you're the fellow she's engaged to, ain't you? What on earth's +been the row? She ain't dead, is she? How did she get here? In her +wedding-rig, too, by golly!"</p> + +<p>Bressant's frame vibrated with a savage impulse; but Mr. Reynolds, not +being of a sensitive temperament, was not at all disconcerted.</p> + +<p>"Well, say, I guess she'd better be fetched home, first thing," said he, +bestirring himself to arise from the chilly seat he had taken. "Lucky I +happened along, too. Guess you was hoping I might, wasn't you? Well, you +hoist her under the arms, and I'll hang on by the feet—ain't that it? +and we'll have her into the sleigh in no time."</p> + +<p>"Don't touch her!" said the other, fiercely. "Let her alone, you drunken +fool!"</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Mr. Bressant," rejoined Bill Reynolds, resting his +hands on his knees, and looking intently in Bressant's face, "I may not +be rich and a swell, like you are; but I guess I'm an honest man, any +way, as much as ever you be; and I ain't insulting nobody by helping +take home a poor frozen girl. I don't care if she is engaged to you. You +don't mean to keep her here till morning do you? and seeing she ain't +married yet, I guess the right place for her to be in, is her father's +house."</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the moonlight, glinting on Bill's immovable eye-glasses, +that gave extraordinary impressiveness to his words; or it may have been +Bressant's reflection, that this young country bumpkin, sullied with +drink, coarse and ignorant though he was, would have probably found his +sense of equality in no way diminished, had he known more of the facts +to which the present catastrophe was a sequel; at all events, he made no +further objections. His manner changed to an almost submissive +humbleness, and, without more words, he helped Bill to place the +insensible woman in the sleigh.</p> + +<p>"That's the talk," remarked Mr. Reynolds, as he drew the sleigh-robe +over her. "Now, then, Mr. Bressant, just you jump in and hold on to her, +and I'll lead the horse along. We'll be there in half a shake."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Bressant, after a mental conflict as violent as it was +brief; "I'll lead the horse myself." The only pleasure now left to this +young man was to insult and torture himself to the utmost of his +ingenuity. He had forfeited all right to protect or care for Sophie, and +it was with a savage satisfaction that he resigned it to Bill Reynolds, +as being the worthier and better man. It was the quixoticism of +self-degradation, but was doubtless not without some wholesome +influence.</p> + +<p>In three minutes more they were at the Parsonage-gate. They made a +stretcher of the sleigh-robe, and carried Sophie in on it. The gate, +flapping-to behind them, sounded like a fretful and querulous complaint. +As they mounted the porch-steps, which creaked and crackled beneath +their weight, the door was opened by Cornelia, in her travelling-dress. +Her face expressed so vividly the unspeakable horror which she felt as +her eyes rested on her sister's half-opened lids, that Bressant, seeing +it, was stricken anew with the perception of his own misery. As Cornelia +looked up from the pure and innocent features—which never had worn an +awful and forbidding expression until now, when all power of expression +was gone—her glance and Bressant's met; but, after a moment's +encounter, both dropped their eyes, with an involuntary shudder. Their +trial and sentence were condensed into so seemingly brief a space.</p> + +<p>But Bill Reynolds neither dealt in nor appreciated such refinements upon +the good old ways of communicating sentiments.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Miss Valeyon," exclaimed he. "I guess we didn't expect to +see one another again to-night. Pray don't imagine, miss, that I bear +you any grudge. At times like this personal considerations don't +count—not with me. I'll shake hands with you, Miss Valeyon, first +chance I get, and we'll be just as much friends as ever we was before. +That's the right way, I guess."</p> + +<p>The door of the guest-chamber stood open, and the sleigh-robe, with its +burden, was laid upon the bed whereon Bressant had spent so many weary +days. Then the voice of the professor, who had been awakened by the +noise and the sound of feet, was heard from the top of the stairs, +demanding to know what was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Come down," said Bressant, stepping to the guest-chamber door. "Be +quick!"</p> + +<p>He spoke more slowly and deeply than was his wont. In spite—or perhaps +in consequence—of his abasement, forlornness, and unworthiness, he +showed a dignity and impressiveness which were novel in him. The +boyishness, vivacity, and motion, had quite vanished. There were a depth +and hollowness in his eyes which gave a singular power to his face. +There must have been a vein of genuine strength and nobleness in the +man, or he would have been too much crushed to show any thing but weak +despair or brutal sullenness. Had Professor Valeyon's attention been +directed to the point, he might have recognized his pupil as being now +thoroughly grounded in the elements of emotional experience.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman, in dressing-gown and slippers, came thumping hastily +down-stairs, in response to Bressant's summons. The strange solemnity in +the latter's tone, no less than the ominousness of the hour, probably +gave him premonition of some disaster. He reached the threshold of the +room, and paused a moment there, settling his spectacles with trembling +fingers, and looking from one silent face to another. The room was +lighted only by the declining moon, which shone coldly through the +windows. The bed, and that which was on it, were in shadow. In an +instant or two, however, the professor's eyes made the discovery to +which none of those who stood about had had the nerve to help him. And +then the old man proved himself to be the most stout-hearted of them +all. He only said "Sophie" in a voice so profoundly indrawn as scarcely +to be audible; then walked unfalteringly across the room, bent over the +bed, and proceeded to examine whether there were yet life in his +daughter or not. Even the moonlight seemed to wait and listen.</p> + +<p>"Bring a candle," said be, presently, breaking the awful silence.</p> + +<p>Cornelia brought it, and the warmer light inspired a sickly flicker of +hope into the expectant faces. The little ormolu-clock on the +mantel-piece whirred, and struck half-past one. As the ring of the last +stroke faded away, Professor Valeyon raised himself, and turned his face +toward the others. So strongly did his soul inform his harsh and +deeply-lined features, that it seemed, for a moment, as if there were a +majestic angel where he stood.</p> + +<p>"Be of good cheer," quoth the old man—for no smaller words than those +which Christ had spoken seemed adequate to clothe his thought; "she is +not dead; we shall hear her speak again."</p> + +<p>Bressant threw up his arms, as if about to shout aloud; but only gave +utterance to a gasping breath, and, stepping backward, leaned heavily +against the wall, near the door. Cornelia, standing in the centre of the +room, broke into quivering, lingering sobs, opening and clinching her +hands, which hung at her side. Bill Reynolds, however, being overcome +with joy, at once gave intelligible manifestation of it.</p> + +<p>"Good enough!" cried he, slapping his leg, and looking from one to +another with a giggle of relief. "Bully for her! Bless you, <i>I</i> knew +Sophie Valeyon warn't dead. Speak again! I believe you. <i>She'll</i> tell us +what's the matter, I guess."</p> + +<p>Professor Valeyon rapidly and collectedly gave his directions as to what +steps were to be taken, and in a few minutes every thing was being done +that skill could do. Snow was brought in to encourage back the life it +had dismayed, and camphor and coffee awaited their turn to take part in +the resuscitation. Slow and reluctant it was, like dragging a dead +weight up from an unknown depth. More than another hour had passed away +before Sophie's eyelids quivered, and a slight tremor moved her lips. +By-and-by she opened her eyes, slowly and uncertainly, let them close +again, and once more opened them; and, after several inaudible efforts, +there came, like an echo from an immeasurable distance, one word, twice +repeated:</p> + +<p>"Bressant! Bressant!"</p> + +<p>They looked around for him, but he was not in the room, nor in the +house. Questioning among themselves, none could tell whether it were an +hour or a minute since he had departed. When life began to take fresh +hold on her he had so loved and wronged, his heart had failed him, and, +without a word, he had gone out and away. But not to escape; for on no +heart was the weight of sorrow and suffering so heavy as on his.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> + +<h3>MOTHER AND SON.</h3> + + +<p>The grand ball at Abbie's was still in progress, though showing signs +of approaching dissolution, when Bressant entered the house quietly at a +side-door, and crept up to his room. He wished not to be seen or heard +by anybody; but it happened that Abbie saw him, and the sight partly +alarmed and partly relieved her. She could now account for the +mysterious disappearance of Cornelia some hours before. But why had +Bressant returned so secretly? and why were his movements all so +surreptitious? Something must be out of order, either at the Parsonage +or elsewhere. She reflected and conjectured, and of course became +momentarily more and more uneasy. Nor did a short visit to his door +relieve her apprehensions: a confused and non-descript sound had +proceeded from within, as if the young man were packing up. Whither +could he be going, she asked herself, on the very eve of his marriage?</p> + +<p>It is never difficult to find cause for anxiety; but it seemed to Abbie +that the misgivings she entertained were reasonable and logical. +Bressant had made up his mind to desert Sophie, because the fortune +which he had all his life considered his own turned out to belong to +another, on whose generosity he was too proud or too suspicious to +depend. He was going off, either to struggle through poverty to a +fortune of his own making, or, giving himself up to his misfortune, to +remain all his life in want and misery; or, perhaps—Abbie did not +openly admit this alternative, but still, knowing what she thought she +did of his nature and the circumstances, the suspicion had +existence—perhaps, in conjunction with a certain evil-disposed person +in New York, he contemplated fraudulently absconding.</p> + +<p>Now, Abbie imagined that the key whereby alone all these difficulties +could be unlocked, lay in her own hands. It was a key of which, so long +as her own interest alone had been concerned, she had refused to avail +herself; but, when the welfare of those she loved was called into +question, she made up her mind (in spite of pride—her strongest passion +next to love) to make use of it without hesitation.</p> + +<p>When the last guests had taken their departure, Abbie went to her room, +and looked at herself in the glass, by the light of a kerosene-lamp. She +was dressed plainly, though becomingly enough, in black silk; a lace cap +rested on her gray hair; her face was worn and wrinkled, but had a fine +expression about it, that would have recalled former beauty to the +memory of any one who had known her in early life. She was deeply +excited, without being at all nervous, the excitement being so +profoundly rooted as to be really a part of herself.</p> + +<p>"Why am I happy?" she asked herself. "No, not because I've buried all my +pride. Because I've found a reason to justify me in burying it: that's +why!"</p> + +<p>She went, for the third time that night, to Bressant's door, and this +time turned the latch and pushed it open. He was sitting at his table, +with his head on his arms. His trunk and a large iron-bound box lay +packed and strapped beneath the window, which was thrown wide open. The +rush of air between that and the door roused the young man: he got +slowly to his feet, and came forward.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see you," said he, with a heavy utterance. "I warn you +to go away. You and I had better have nothing to say to each other."</p> + +<p>"We must; the time to speak has come!" she returned. "I've come to you, +because you could not bring yourself to rely on me. It's your own want +of faith—"</p> + +<p>"You'd better not go on," interrupted Bressant, with a strange smile. "I +had more faith than you imagine. But there are some mountains that faith +can't move."</p> + +<p>"Why do you still keep me off?" cried Abbie, in a tone which might have +made his heart bleed, except that of late it had been stabbed so often. +"Good God! am I so repulsive to you that, for the sake of being happy +and comfortable all your life, you can't bring yourself to recognize my +existence? Don't imagine I want to buy your love or toleration with this +money of mine. I want nothing in exchange—nothing! I can't help the +knowledge that I shall have made you rich, and so put happiness in your +power; but I ask no acknowledgment—no return. Take every thing and go! +Leave me here and believe that I am dead! Is that enough?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal too much! You'll be sorry you've said all this. If you +knew what you were talking about, you wouldn't have said a word of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are hard to please, indeed!" exclaimed Abbie, gazing at him and +shuddering. "I pray God your heart is so cold to no one else as to me! +Poor Sophie! She would die at one such word."</p> + +<p>"Don't speak her name," said Bressant, in a tone so stern as to be +equivalent to a threat.</p> + +<p>He held his eyes down, so that the ugly gleam in them was hidden. Abbie +had no thought of fearing him as yet, and she would have her say.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I don't know you're going to leave her? If it's because +you don't love her, I can say no more. You are beyond any help in this +world. But if you do, let me save her, even if I must oblige you in +doing it! You know little of her love, though, if you think she can be +happier with you rich than poor. Oh! are you so cold yourself as to +believe you are acting generously to her in this? Go back to her, or she +will die!"</p> + +<p>The old woman took fire as she spoke, and many of the signs of age were +for the time obliterated. Some of the power and brilliancy of her youth +shone again in her eyes; her form seemed to acquire a different and +statelier contour. In the earnestness of her speech, involuntary +gestures accompanied her words; free from all exaggeration, and so truly +and gracefully fitted to her meaning as to be virtually invisible. But +Bressant was not won by it: his expression grew more ugly and repellent +with every successive sentence.</p> + +<p>"You fool!" said he, coming one heavy step nearer, and frowning down +upon her; "I warned you away; I told you to be silent. You've meddled +with what was no concern of yours; you've thrust yourself where you had +no right to come—"</p> + +<p>"No right!" she interrupted, with an intensity of indignant emphasis +that seemed adequate to smite to the ground the towering figure that +faced her. Then, clasping her hands, and in a voice of yearning, +ineffable tenderness, she added, "Oh, I have prayed for you, and wept +for you, and loved you so! For your own sake, my darling, do not use +such words to me!" Here she held out her arms, and tears ran hot down +her faded cheeks. "Am I not your mother? Are you not my son?"</p> + +<p>"No!" answered Bressant.</p> + +<p>He threw so tremendous a weight of malignant energy into the utterance +of this single word, although not raising his voice higher than his +usual tone, that the moral effect upon the woman was as if he had dealt +her a furious blow on the breast. Completely stunned at first, she stood +as if dead, except that her body, upright and rigid, vibrated slightly +from side to side, like a column about to fall. So sudden, too, had been +the shock, that her arms still remained outstretched, and the track of +her tears still glistened upon her cheeks, tears shed so utterly in vain +as to acquire a trait of ghastly absurdity.</p> + +<p>As sense and reflection began to dawn again, the first instinctive +defence she attempted was that of incredulity. It was to gain +breathing-space rather than from any hope in its efficacy. But +afterward, following the ability to hear and the capacity to comprehend, +the grim reality settled darkly down. Her life for the last twenty-five +years, then, had been a miserable blunder; her love, hopes, and fears +wasted, and turned to ridicule; her self-sacrifice, a wretched +self-deception, a throwing of all possibilities of happiness into the +bottomless pit, whence no return could ever come to her; every thought, +aspiration, and desire, which had visited her heart had been a +mockery—meaningless and empty. This was the reality to which she was +awakened. And, lest this should not be sufficient, here stood one before +whom she had abased and humbled herself, whose insolence she had borne +meekly and lovingly, whose feet she had set upon her neck. Here he +stood, insolent and unfeeling still; a false impostor, whom might God +refuse to pardon!</p> + +<p>And who and what was he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for +him? Surely—surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he?</p> + +<p>These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which +were now awful to behold—eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant +forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by +impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an +amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have +swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to +contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength.</p> + +<p>"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head. +"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault +and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive +yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can +regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!".</p> + +<p>In this last sentence the tone of mockery he had assumed was somewhat +overstrained; a suspicion of underlying sincerity grated through it.</p> + +<p>"Don't say you didn't know!" said Abbie, in a guttural voice, clasping +and wringing her hands, and turning her head from one side to another; +"don't dare to say it! No—no! you did—you did! You did know it, and +God will punish you—God will condemn you! He must—He will!" She could +not endure to believe that, having been defrauded in her love, she was +to be defrauded also in her hate and thirst for revenge. She could live +by either; but to be deprived of both was death!</p> + +<p>Bressant made no reply to her uncanny petition, and a silence followed. +Abbie stood wringing her hands, waving her head, and drawing her breath +sobbingly between her teeth. Was she the same woman—stately, and almost +beautiful—who had spoken so loftily and tenderly but a few minutes +before? Are human generosity and affection founded on no securer basis? +Her appearance was now revolting. Suddenly a thought struck her.</p> + +<p>"Ah! but she—<i>she</i> can't escape," she broke forth, seizing upon the +idea with a grisly eagerness of exultation. "You can't get <i>her</i> away +from me; I know her, oh! I know her, and I condemn her, I hate her—God! +how I hate her. She shall never be forgiven—never, never. You can never +cheat me out of <i>her</i>, for I know her."</p> + +<p>Abbie pressed both hands to her head.</p> + +<p>"You had better hold your tongue, old woman," Bressant said, in a low +voice, and a deadlier passion than anger looked from his eyes as he +fastened them upon her. "You're so hungry to send a soul to hell, take +care you don't find yourself there. Do you think your past life can save +you? Wait till I've told you what it has been. You began by blasting a +true man's life, trusting too easily, against all internal evidence, to +the lies that were told you about him. Next, you married the liar, not +loving him, but so that the other might hear it, and believe you had +forgotten him; so you acted a lie to him, and prostituted yourself +bodily and spiritually to gratify your pride and revenge. Not the sort +of thing that gets people to heaven, so far, is it?"</p> + +<p>Abbie still pressed her hands to her head, and stared before her without +speaking.</p> + +<p>"You were false to your marriage vows; after that, you neglected your +husband no less than he you; you never tried to make yourself lovable to +him; you were the only wronged one! you could do no wrong yourself! At +last you had a son."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes, which, during the last few minutes had become +bloodshot, and fixed them fearfully upon the young man's face, as he +continued:</p> + +<p>"You loved him, as most females do love their young, and yet not so +generously as most. It was not as his father's child, but only as your +own, that he was dear to you; he was <i>your</i> child, a part of yourself, +and you loved him only because you loved yourself.</p> + +<p>"When he was still a baby you left your husband's house, and thereby, if +justice were done, forfeited the recognition of good women, and pure +society; but you took great credit to yourself because you left your son +and your money behind you. Was it nothing in the balance, then, the +scandal, worse than any poverty, which the recovery of your property +would have caused? Nothing but self-sacrifice, to leave a sickly child +to all the advantages that wealth could give it? Well, a month +afterward, in spite of wealth, your son died."</p> + +<p>At this announcement, Abbie's convulsive strength, which had thus far +served to keep her erect and motionless, exhaled itself in a long groan, +and left her placid and nerveless. Seeing her about to fall, Bressant +put forth his hands and grasped her arms below the shoulder, holding her +thus while he went on. Her eyes were closed and her head fell forward on +her bosom; but, so blinded was the young man by the remorseless passion +which had gradually been working up within him, he failed to perceive +that the old woman's ears were no longer sensible to his voice, nor her +heart sensitive to his words.</p> + +<p>"He died, and I was younger than he, but stronger, and more like my +father. I was put in his place, and was called by his name. I grew up +proud of what I thought my aristocratic birth! I resolved to become the +most famous of mankind, and I found an angel and was going to marry her. +But the evil began to come with the good: it began long ago, and in many +ways, and I tried to overcome it, or provide against it, one way or +another. You benevolent people had led me into a battle-field, unarmed, +and then left me to fight my way through; and I should have done it, +too, but at the last I had myself to fight against, and then <i>I</i> gave +in. Why, <i>I</i> had been dead and buried more than twenty years—why don't +you laugh at that?—and had been imposed upon all that time by this +miserable nameless outcast, myself! whose father's name was Adultery and +his mother's Sin. That was a parentage to be proud of, wasn't it? And +yet, I swear before God, I'm better contented it should be so, than to +be the son of an honest marriage, with such a woman as you for my +mother."</p> + +<p>As he loosened the hold of one hand, to emphasize this oath, the +senseless body, which he had been upholding, swung round, and swayed, +toward the floor. He dropped the arm which remained in his grasp, and +the red flush on his cheek and forehead died away into pallor, as he +looked down at the dark heap of clothes lying at his feet. Finally he +stooped down, and lifted her on to the sofa.</p> + +<p>"She's not dead," muttered he, after scrutinizing the woman's face for a +moment; "she has her punishment, though, like the rest of us."</p> + +<p>He wrote an address on a couple of pieces of paper which he found in the +drawer of the table, and fastened them to the box and trunk with some +mucilage. Then he took his fur cap, and having banged on the fat Irish +servant-girl's door, and told her that her mistress was lying insensible +in his study, he left the house without delay. It wanted still an hour +to the time for the earliest morning train to New York, and, as the +young man did not care to subject himself to questions and remarks from +the officials at the village depot, he determined to walk down the +track, a distance of between four and five miles, to the station below. +Off he started accordingly, and, arriving there in ample time, was able +to eat a good breakfast of cold meat, hard-boiled eggs, and +crackers—all the solid contents of the refreshment-room—before his +train got in. He bought his ticket, stepped on board, flung himself into +a seat, and left all behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> + +<h3>WHERE TWO ROADS MEET.</h3> + + +<p>The velvet-cushioned seat on which he sat felt very comfortable, and +the great speed at which he was being carried along was agreeable to +him. He had been busily occupied, with little rest of any kind, and +scarcely any sleep, for nearly three days; and his mind had been all the +time engrossed by the most harrowing thoughts and experiences. It was +all over now; nothing could ever again give him apprehension or anxiety; +the past was dead and never could live again; the future was arranged, +and it was simple enough: he, and the woman who had given him birth, +would sail together for Europe on Monday morning, at twelve o'clock. He +would have abundant wealth—all the property had been converted into +ready money, and would be taken with them—and he might live as +luxuriously, as sensually, as much like a pampered animal as he pleased, +or as he could. He would forget that he had a mind, or a heart, or a +soul; they had none of them served him in good stead; but he had some +reliance on his body. There were few that could compare with it in the +world, and he felt convinced that he should be able to derive a great +deal of enjoyment out of it before the time for its death and decay came +round. At all events, he was resolved that no form of indulgence to his +bodily appetites should go unproved; and when one grew stale he would +try another. With such enormous vitality and capacity to be and to +appreciate being voluptuous, he could hardly fail to avenge himself for +the hardships he had undergone thus far.</p> + +<p>So he leaned back on the crimson velvet-cushion of his seat, and felt +very comfortable and composed, thinking of nothing in particular. He +became pleasantly interested, as the daylight began to make things +visible without, in trying to count the number of wires on the +telegraph-poles. It would have been easy enough if they had only kept +along at an invariable level; but they were always rising—rising—then +jumping through the pole with a snap!—then ducking suddenly—sinking, +crossing one another—sometimes scudding along close to the ground, +then flying up beyond the range of the window—anon scooting beneath +a dark arch—now indistinguishable against a pine-wood—then +rising—rising—jumping—ducking—sinking—as before. Though exerting +all his faculties of observation, it was impossible to be quite certain +how many wires there were.</p> + +<p>He was nearly alone in the car, and would probably continue to be for an +hour or so at least. He reversed the seat in front of him, and put up +his feet, leaving the telegraph-wires to scud and dodge unnoticed. He +fixed his eyes upon the sweltering stove in the farther corner of the +car. There was a roaring fire within, as he could tell by the vivid red +that glowed through the draught-holes beneath the door, and showed here +and there along the cracks. The sides of the car against which the stove +stood was protected with zinc; a number of short sticks of wood were +piled beside it, ready to replenish the fire, and some of them were +already smoking a little, as if in anticipation. Presently the brakeman +came in, with a flurry of cold air, his neck and head rolled up in a +dirty-brown knit woolen tippet, and clumsy gloves on his hands. He took +the poker, and opened the stove-door with it, peeped into the red-hot +interior a moment, grasped a solid chunk of wood from the pile, and +popped it in cleverly; then he stood for a moment, patting the stove +with his gloved hands, to warm them, till, in response to the whistle, +he dashed out, slamming the doors as only car-doors can be made to slam, +and Bressant could dimly distinguish him, through the frosted window, +working away at the brake.</p> + +<p>They drew up, with much squeaking and grating, at a small, +snuff-colored, clap-boarded depot, where a boy, about sixteen, with a +big green carpet-bag, kissed an elderly lady in a black hood, who was +evidently his mother, and jumped aboard with his bag, in a great hurry, +lest she should behold the tears in his eyes. He entered the car in +which Bressant sat, and established himself and his bag on the seat +immediately in front of that upon which the former's feet were resting.</p> + +<p>The snuff-colored station and the woman in the black hood slipped away, +and were seen no more. The boy, after scratching a peep-hole through the +frost-work on his window, and taking a last survey through it of the +snow-covered fields he was leaving, produced a large blue-spotted +handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers, and retired with it into +the privacy of his own feelings.</p> + +<p>He was a rather delicate-looking boy, with large gray eyes and soft +brown hair, and was evidently not much in the habit of traveling. +Perhaps this was the first time he had ever left home, thought Bressant, +in the idleness of his inactive mind. His mother was a widow; her dark +dress and black hood, and pale, over-worked face looked like it. +Besides, if the boy had had a father, of course he would have been down +to see him off. Probably there were sisters, too; the boy looked somehow +as if he had been brought up with sisters; but they would not have +followed him down to the station; they kissed him good-by at the +house-door, leaving it to his mother to see the very last of him. For be +had resolved to go forth into the world and make his fortune, not to +encumber his poor mother with his support any longer. He was going, +probably, to New York, to be a clerk or an errand-boy in some dry-goods +store, or banking-house, or insurance-office. Once a week—oftener, +perhaps—he would write home to his mother, sending his love to her and +to the girls, telling them how much he wanted to see them all again, but +that he was doing pretty well, and was working, and going to work, very +hard. He would be rich some day, and they should all come to New York +then and live in his house on Fifth Avenue!</p> + +<p>Bressant, comfortably extended on his two seats, with his long future of +bodily case and indulgence opening before him—his freedom from all ties +to bind him to any spot, or necessities to compel him to any +labor—Bressant found that the thought of this innocent boy, going forth +into the world, with his green carpet-bag, his loving heart, his +assurance of being loved, his ambition to establish his mother and +sisters on Fifth Avenue, was becoming quite annoying to his mental +serenity. He would think of him no more, therefore, and, to aid himself +in this resolve, he closed his eyes, so as to avoid seeing him. Being +really somewhat weary after his manifold exertions and continued +sleeplessness, his eyes closed very naturally.</p> + +<p>But the boy was not to be so easily got rid of. He almost immediately +turned round in his seat, and directed a steadfast gaze out of his gray +eyes at Bressant's reclining figure. Presently, he pronounced, in a low +voice, yet which was distinctly audible to the deaf man's ears, two +words, the effect of which was to make the other start up in his seat, +and stare about him in amazement and alarm.</p> + +<p>The boy met his glance with great calmness and gentleness, and held out +his hand as if to grasp Bressant's.</p> + +<p>"Was it you?" exclaimed the latter, bewildered. "How did you know that +name, and who are you?" As he spoke, he mechanically took the extended +hand in his own.</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know me?" answered the boy, smiling, and, at the same +time, drawing him, by a slight but decided traction, to sit down by him. +"Me—your best friend?"</p> + +<p>Something in the voice, something in the manner, and in the expression +of the eyes, but, most of all, the smile, seemed strangely familiar to +Bressant. The touch of the hand, too, he thought be recognized—it +soothed and yet controlled him. Still, he was unable to recall exactly +who the boy was, or where he had seen him before.</p> + +<p>"I've had so much to think of lately," murmured he, partly to himself, +partly by way of excusing his forgetfulness, passing his hand over his +forehead.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" returned the latter, in a tone of tender sympathy, that +vibrated gratefully along Bressant's nerves. "But we know each other, +and we are friends—that is enough."</p> + +<p>"How strange that I should meet you here, and at such a time!" said +Bressant, musingly. And he wondered at himself for feeling glad, instead +of sorry, that the encounter should have taken place. But the boy looked +up in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Strange? No! I'm sure it's the most natural thing in the world. How +could it have happened otherwise? Should I have been your friend if I +had failed you now?"</p> + +<p>"But do you know every thing?" Bressant demanded—less, however, because +he doubted that it should be so than as wishing to receive full +assurance thereof. "Do you know all that has happened during these last +six months, and yet are willing to be with me and speak to me?"</p> + +<p>"It has been a terrible time, to be sure," said the boy, sadly; "you +should have kept your promise and come to me at your first trouble. It +might have saved you from a great deal. And yet I can see how, in the +end, it may all be for the best."</p> + +<p>Bressant shook his head dejectedly. "I've lost what I never can regain!" +said he, "and there are three stains—falsehood, dishonor, and +treachery—that never can be washed out."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that!" exclaimed the boy, earnestly and hopefully. "God +teaches us, you know, not to be in despair, because without hope—hope +of becoming better—we can't be really repentant."</p> + +<p>"I'm not repentant, certainly—I have no hope," rejoined Bressant. But, +even as he spoke the words, he was conscious of that within him which +contradicted them. Either the influence of the boy's gentle and trustful +spirit, or a new opening of his own inward eyes, had borne in upon him a +vision of hitherto unconsidered possibilities.</p> + +<p>The boy seemed to read his thoughts. "You do not believe all you say," +observed he. "Remember, it was because you repented of your dishonest +purposes toward Abbie, and felt that you had wronged your better self +with Cornelia, that you first resolved to give up Sophie, as being no +longer worthy of her, and that proved that your love for her at least +was noble and unselfish."</p> + +<p>"But afterward—afterward I became worse than ever!" exclaimed Bressant, +who would not dare to entertain a hope until the full depth of his sin +had been brought forward for the pure and clear-sighted eyes of his +companion to look upon and judge. "When I found out my shameful +secret—when I learned what a thing I was, even with no sin of my own to +drag me down—I didn't care what crime I committed! A kind of evil +intelligence seemed to come to me. I saw that Cornelia loved me, and +that I had her in my power, so I went back to get her, to take her with +me to Europe. There was no repentance in that!"</p> + +<p>"It would have been a terrible sin!" said the boy, with a slight +shudder. "But God prevented you from committing it."</p> + +<p>"But I'm a thief still, and a coward, for I sneaked away in the night, +fearing to meet Sophie's eyes, and afraid to tell the professor what I +was and what I had done. I left all the burden of my sins to be borne by +women and an infirm old man, and I am going, with a stolen fortune, to +forget I ever had a heart or a soul."</p> + +<p>"Are you going, and do you think you can forget?" asked the boy, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"Don't you give me up yet?" returned Bressant, trembling. "What is left +for me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, every thing is left for you!" exclaimed the boy, his smile +brightening in his eyes. "You seem to forget that you haven't gone off +with any stolen money yet! You must begin at the next station, and +devote your whole life—no less will answer—to redeeming yourself. Only +be sure not to delay, and not to hesitate."</p> + +<p>Bressant looked at his companion, and thought there was something divine +and unearthly almost in his manner, and especially in the light that +came from his gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"As for the stolen money," the boy continued, "all you have to do about +that is, to let it alone; it is safe, and will be cared for. But you +must go straight to the Parsonage. Your marriage-day is Sunday; be sure +you are there by noon. It may be you will not find Sophie there; but she +will leave a gift for you, at any rate, and you must be in time to claim +it."</p> + +<p>"But how can I ask Sophie's forgiveness, and the professor, and +Cornelia?"</p> + +<p>"Trust wholly in Sophie," returned the other, with an accent of loving +reproof, "never doubt her love and forgiveness. You must make your peace +with the professor as best you can; but perhaps he has found that to +forgive in himself which will enable him to be more charitable to you. +As for Cornelia, she and you must recompense each other for the evil you +have mutually wrought upon each other."</p> + +<p>"How recompense each other?" questioned Bressant, in surprise; "it was +not a high nor a true love that we felt for each other; it was a love of +the passions and senses."</p> + +<p>"Therefore let it be the work of your lives—a work of penitence and +punishment—to elevate and refine your love, which has been degraded, +until it become worthy of the name of love in its highest sense. You +have lowered each other, and now each must help to raise the other up. +The work can be delegated to no one else."</p> + +<p>"But Sophie," murmured Bressant, pressing his hand over his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Sophie is lost to you," responded his companion, with a tremulous sigh. +"Perhaps if you had kept yourself pure and true through all temptations, +she might have been yours. But you failed, and every failure must bring +its loss. The air of such a love as that is too fine for you to breathe +now; you could not be happy nor at ease; but do not grieve for her—only +mourn for your own deterioration, and strive faithfully, and with +constant effort, to make it good. Sophie—she will be happier, and +better cared for, than, as your wife, she could ever have been."</p> + +<p>"But I shall go back to poverty and disgrace, and perhaps to hatred!"</p> + +<p>"The evil you have done will be a clog upon you; but its very weight +will assure you that your face is turned toward heaven. Life will never +be to you what you dreamed of making it six months ago. You will find it +hard and practical, weary and monotonous; but once in a while, perhaps, +you will catch a breath of air from heaven itself, and will be +refreshed, or a ray of its light will glimmer on your path, and show you +where to tread. The end may be a long way off, but you cannot say you +have no chance of reaching it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I only might!" sighed he; "but I've been nothing but a curse, so +far, to every one I've known!"</p> + +<p>"Not so, either," returned his companion, with a smile so celestial that +Bressant knew at last it could be no other than the spirit of Sophie +herself that had been speaking to him. "You have shaken Professor +Valeyon's confidence in his wisdom and judgment, and the value of his +experience; you have made him realize that the more God has to do with +education the better; you have broken down Cornelia's self-complacency, +and shown her that a beautiful body cannot be safe or happy without a +soul to take care of it. Abbie has learned from you that love, and +generosity, and self-sacrifice, may all be worthless if they be founded +only upon individual grounds, to the exclusion of humanity; and Sophie +has been taught, by the love she has felt for you, to be humble and +charitable, and to see how easily self-interest and pride may be made to +look like zeal for others, and benevolence."</p> + +<p>And then Bressant seemed to be conscious that Sophie was bidding him +farewell, but he could not see her nor touch her; he was shaken with +grief, and yet was filled with a strange kind of happiness, and a +feeling of resolute power. Gradually the influence of her presence faded +away, and he seemed alone.</p> + +<p>Some one shook him by the shoulder. He looked up and saw the conductor; +in the background a lady and gentleman waiting to sit down. The car was +full of people.</p> + +<p>"Come, sir," said the conductor, "you're a pretty big man, but you +didn't pay for more than one seat, I reckon. You've been sleeping-here +for more than a hundred miles; if you want to sleep any more I expect +you'd better get out and go to an hotel."</p> + +<p>Bressant removed his feet from the extra seat, and, the conductor having +reversed it, the lady and gentleman took their places. As for the boy +with the green bag and the blue-spotted handkerchief, he was nowhere to +be seen; he must have left the train at a previous station.</p> + +<p>The train had stopped, and Bressant, glancing out of the window, saw +that they were at some large railway-junction.</p> + +<p>"How far are we from New York?" he asked of the conductor, with his hand +to his ear to catch the reply.</p> + +<p>"Be there in two hours," shouted back that gentleman, in reply.</p> + +<p>"When does the next train go through here in the opposite direction?"</p> + +<p>"We're just awaiting for one to come along and give us the track—and +there she is now," returned the conductor, as he took his departure.</p> + +<p>The whistle screamed malevolently, and, with a jerk and a rattle, the +car began to move off. Bressant rose suddenly from his seat, walked +quickly along the aisle to the door, passed through to the platform, +grasped the iron balustrade with one hand, and swung himself lightly to +the ground. The whistle screamed again like a disappointed fiend.</p> + +<p>"Guess that young man was up late last night," remarked the conductor to +the brakeman; "a powerful sound sleep he was in, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Off on a spree to New York, most like," responded the brakeman, +tightening his dirty-brown tippet around his neck, "and thought better +of it at the last minute."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> + +<h3>TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR.</h3> + + +<p>Her fruitless call for Bressant seemed quite to exhaust Sophie. For a +long time afterward she hardly opened her mouth, except to swallow some +hot black coffee. The professor sat, for the most part, with his finger +on her pulse, his eyes looking more hollow and his forehead more deeply +lined than ever before, but with no other signs of anxiety or suffering. +Cornelia came in and out—a restless spirit. She awaited Sophie's +recovery with no less of dread than of hope. Her life hung, as it were, +upon her sister's. The moment in which Sophie recovered her faculties +enough to think and speak would be the last that Cornelia could maintain +her mask of honor and respectability, for Cornelia knew that Sophie was +in possession of her secret; she had been up in her room, and the open +window had told the story.</p> + +<p>It was a time of awful suspense. Cornelia wished there had been somebody +there to talk with; even Bill Reynolds would have been welcome now. He, +however, had departed long ago, having bethought himself that his horse +was catching its death o' cold, standing out there with no rug on. She +was entirely alone; she hardly dared to think, for fear something guilty +should be generated in her mind; and, though every moment was pain, +without stop or mitigation, every moment was inestimably precious, too; +it was so much between her and revelation. She almost counted the +seconds as they passed, yet rated them for dragging on so wearily. +Every tick of the little ormolu clock marked away a large part of her +life, and yet was wearisome to so much of it as remained. Sometimes she +debated whether she could not anticipate the end by speaking out at +once, of her own free-will; but no, short as her time was, she could not +afford to lose the smallest fraction of it—no, she could not.</p> + +<p>Bethinking herself that her father would be lost to her after the +revelation had taken place, Cornelia felt a consuming desire to enjoy +his love to the fullest possible extent during the interval. She wanted +him to call her his dear daughter—to hold her hand—to pat her +check—to kiss her forehead with his rough, bristly lips—to tell her, +in his gruff, kind voice, that she was a solace and a resource to him. +The thousand various little ways in which he had testified his +deep-lying affection—she had not noticed them or thought much of them, +so long as she felt secure of always commanding them—with what +different eyes she looked back upon them now. Oh! if they might all be +lavished upon her during these last few remaining hours or minutes. +Should she not go and sit down at his knee, and ask him to pet her and +caress her?</p> + +<p>No; she would not steal the love for which her soul thirsted, even +though he whom she robbed should not feel the loss. She had stripped him +of much that would doubtless seem to him of far more worth and +importance; but, when it came to taking, under false pretenses, a thing +so sacred as her father's love, Cornelia drew back, and, spite of her +great need, had the grace to make the sacrifice. Let it not be +underrated: a woman who sees honor, reputation, and happiness slipping +away from her, will struggle hardest of all for the little remaining +scrap of love, and only feel wholly forlorn after that, too, has +vanished away.</p> + +<p>At length, about daybreak or a little after, Sophie spoke, low, but very +distinctly:</p> + +<p>"I'm going to sleep; don't wake me or disturb me;" and almost +immediately sank into a profound slumber—so very profound, indeed, that +it rather bore likeness to a trance. Yet, her pulse still beat +regularly, though faintly, and at long intervals, and her breath went +and came, though with a motion almost imperceptible to the eye.</p> + +<p>"Is it a good sign? Will she get well now?" asked Cornelia, as she and +her father stood looking down at her.</p> + +<p>"She'll never get well, my dear," said Professor Valeyon, very quietly. +"Her mind and body both have had too great a shock—far too great. More +has happened than we know of yet, I suspect. But we shall hear, we shall +hear. Yes, sleep is good for her: it'll make her comfortable. Her nerves +will be the quieter."</p> + +<p>"O papa! papa! is our little Sophie going to die?" faltered Cornelia; +and then she broke down completely. She had not fully grasped the idea +until that moment; but the very tone in which her father spoke had the +declaration of death in it. It was not his usual deep, gruff, forcible +voice, shutting off abruptly at the end of his sentences, and beginning +them as sharply. It had lost body and color, was thin, subdued, and +monotonous. Professor Valeyon had changed from a lusty winter into a +broken, infirm, and marrowless thaw.</p> + +<p>He stood and watched her weep for a long while, bending his eyes upon +her from beneath their heavy, impending brows. Heavy and impending they +were still, but the vitality—the sort of warm-hearted fierceness—of +his look was gone—gone! A young and bitter grief, like Cornelia's, +coming at a time of life when the feelings are so tender and their +manifestation of pain so poignant—is terrible enough to see, God knows! +but the dry-eyed anguish of the old, of those who no longer possess the +latent, indefinite, all-powerful encouragement of the future to support +them—who can breathe only the lifeless, cheerless air of the +past—grief with them does not convulse: it saps, and chills, and +crumbles away, without noise or any kind of demonstration. The sight +does not terrify or harrow us, but it makes us sick at heart and tinges +our thoughts with a gloomy stain, which rather sinks out of sight than +is worn away.</p> + +<p>"Will you stay and watch with her, my dear?" said the old man, at last. +"She'll sleep some hours, I think. I'll take a little sleep myself. Call +me when she wakes."</p> + +<p>So Cornelia was left alone to watch her sleeping and dying sister. All +the morning she sat by the bed, almost as motionless as Sophie herself. +Her mind was like a surf-wave that breaks upon the shore, slips back, +regathers itself, and undulates on, to break again. Begin where she +would, she always ended on that bed, with its well-known face, set +around with soft dark hair, always in the same position upon the pillow, +which yielded beneath it in always the same creases and curves. +By-and-by, wherever she turned, still she saw that face, with the pillow +rising around it; and when she shut her eyes, there it was, growing, in +the blackness, clearer the more she tried to avert her mind.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Cornelia—for time enters involuntarily into our thoughts +upon all subjects—that the present order of things must have existed +for a far longer period than a single night. How could the events of a +few hours wear such deep and uneffaceable channels in human lives? But +our souls have a chronology of their own, compared with the vividness +and instantaneous workings of which, our bodies bear but a dull and +lagging part. Sorrow and joy, which act upon the soul immediately, must +labor long ere they can write themselves legibly and permanently upon +our faces.</p> + +<p>Cornelia fell to wondering, too—as most people under the pressure of +grief are prone to do—whether there were any sympathy or any connection +between the world and the human beings who live upon it. Her eyes +wandered hither and thither about the room, and found it almost +startling in its unaltered naturalness. There was the same view of +trees, road, and field, out of the window; and the same snow which had +fallen before the tragedy, lay there now. Even in Sophie's face there +was no adequate transformation. Indeed, being somewhat reddened and +swollen by the reaction from freezing, a stranger might have supposed +that she was tolerably stout and glowing with vitality. And Cornelia +looked at her own hands, as they lay in her lap: they were as round and +shapely as ever; and there, upon the smooth back of one, below the +forefinger, was a white scar, where she had cut herself when a little +girl. Moreover—Cornelia started as her eyes rested upon it, and the +blood rose painfully to her face—there was a dark, discolored bruise, +encircling one wrist: Bressant's last gift—an ominous betrothal ring!</p> + +<p>Thus several hours passed away, until, at length, Cornelia raised her +eyes suddenly, and encountered those of Sophie, fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>What a look was that! At all times there was more to be seen in Sophie's +eyes than in most women's; but now they were fathomless, and yet never +more clear and simple. Cornelia read in them all and more than legions +of words could have told her. There were visible the complete grasp and +appreciation of Cornelia's and Bressant's crime; the realization of her +own position between them; pity and sympathy for the sinners, too, were +there; and love, not sisterly, nor quite human, for Sophie had already +begun to put on immortality—but such a love as an angel might have +felt, knowing the temptation and the punishment. Before that look +Cornelia felt her own bitterness and anguish fade away, as a candle is +obliterated by the sun. She saw in Sophie so much higher a capacity for +feeling, so much profounder and more sublime an emotion, that she was +ashamed of her own beside it.</p> + +<p>There was at once a comprehensiveness and a particularity in Sophie's +gaze which, while humbling and abasing Cornelia, brought a comforting +feeling that full justice, upon all points, had been done her in +Sophie's mind. There was no lack of charity for her trials and +temptations, no vindictiveness. Cornelia felt no impulse to plead her +cause, because aware that all she could say would be anticipated in her +sister's forgiveness. Nay, she almost wished there had been some +bitterness and anger against which to contend. Perhaps it may be so with +our souls in their judgment-day; God's mercy may outstrip the poor +conjectures we have formed about it. He may see palliation for our sins, +which we ourselves had not taken into account.</p> + +<p>After a few moments, Sophie beckoned Cornelia to come near, and, as the +latter stood beside the bed, took her by the hand and smiled.</p> + +<p>"I've been all this time with Bressant," were her first words, spoken +faintly, but with a quiet and serene assurance.</p> + +<p>Cornelia made no answer; indeed, she could not speak. Strange and +incomprehensible as Sophie's assertion was, she did not think of +doubting but that in some way it must be true. Sophie continued:</p> + +<p>"Before I went to sleep, I prayed God to send my spirit to him; and we +have been together. Neelie, he is coming back!"</p> + +<p>"Coming back! Sophie, coming back! For what?"</p> + +<p>"Don't look so frightened, my darling. He will tell you why when he gets +here. That will be to-morrow at noon."</p> + +<p>"O Sophie! Sophie! the day and hour of your marriage!"</p> + +<p>Cornelia sank upon her knees, and hid her face upon the edge of the bed. +But Sophie let her hand wander over her head, with a soothing motion.</p> + +<p>"No, dear; that's all over, Neelie dear, you know. Not the day and hour +of my marriage any more. Neelie, I want to ask you something."</p> + +<p>Cornelia lifted her head from the bedside; then, divining from Sophie's +face, ere it was spoken, what her question was to be, faintness and +terror seized upon her, and she clasped her hands over her eyes. The +unexpectedness of Sophie's first awakening, and her subsequent strange +speech concerning Bressant, had driven from Cornelia's head the matter +which had monopolized her thoughts and fears before; and it now recurred +to her with an effect almost as overwhelming as if the idea had been a +new one.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't do it," said she, huskily; "it seemed worse than killing +myself. I believe it would have killed me to have stood before him, with +his eyes upon my face, and have told him—told him—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, yes; it must not be you, Neelie. How is he? Does he seem +well and cheerful?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—I've hardly dared to look at him, or speak to him. He's +been lying down, I believe, since you went to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Ask him to come to me," Sophie said, after a pause. "I will speak to +him; I'll tell him; it will be best that I should do it; and you will +trust me?"</p> + +<p>"O Sophie!" was all that Cornelia could say; but it expressed at least +the fullness of her heart. What must be the love and tenderness that +could undertake such a task as this! How great the trial for a nature +delicate and shrinking, like Sophie's, to bear witness before their own +father of her sister's sin against herself! But Sophie was as brave as +she was feminine and delicate.</p> + +<p>Cornelia's gratitude, however, was mingled still with a despairing +agony, and her life seemed to be escaping from her. If this cup might +but pass!</p> + +<p>"He will not be to me as you are, Sophie. He will never look at me +again."</p> + +<p>"Do not fear," replied Sophie, with her faint but incomparable smile. +"If I can forgive you, surely he must. Go and call him, and then stay in +your room till he comes to you."</p> + +<p>But Cornelia, as she left the room upon her heavy errand, shook her +head, and drew a shivering breath. She knew her father would look upon +the matter more from the world's point of view than Sophie did; and it +was a curious example of the strength of the material element in +Cornelia, that she more feared to meet her father's eye, whom she felt +would understand that aspect of her disgrace, than Sophie's, who +probably had a more acute and certainly a more exclusive perception of +her spiritual accountability.</p> + +<p>As she was beginning to mount the stairs, she met her father already on +his way down. He noticed the wretchedness depicted on her face, and, +supposing it to be all on Sophie's account, did what he could to comfort +her.</p> + +<p>"Don't despair, my child," quoth the old man, laying his hands on her +shoulders. "Nothing is so hopeless that we mayn't trust in God to better +it."</p> + +<p>The words seemed to apply so felicitously that Cornelia tried to think +it a good omen sent from heaven. Then he bent over and kissed her +forehead—perhaps before she was aware, perhaps not; but she took it, +praying that it might prove a blessing to her hereafter, even if it were +the last she were destined to receive. She passed on into her own room +without speaking, and sat down there to wait.</p> + +<p>To wait! and for what, and how long? till her father came to her? But +suppose he were not to come? She would stay there, perhaps, an +hour—that would be long enough—yes, too long; but still let it be an +hour; and then, he not coming, what should she do? Go to him? No, she +would never dare, never presume to do that. What then? steal +down-stairs, a guilty, hateful thing, softly open the door which would +never open to her again, and run away through the snow? The world would +be before her, but snow and ice would but faintly symbolize its +coldness. Was it likely that heaven itself would yield her entrance +after her father's door had closed upon her?</p> + +<p>But would not Sophie prevail, and turn his heart to forgiveness? Oh! +but why was it not probable, and more than probable, that the argument +would result the other way?—that her father, by a clear and stern +representation of the real heinousness of her offense, would convince +Sophie that Cornelia was entitled to nothing but condemnation? +There would be nothing to urge against the justice of such a +sentence—nothing.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Sophie's courage might fail her, or her strength give way, +leaving the ugly story but half told, and then her father would come to +her to learn the rest. What should she do then? How much more terrible +to be obliged to tell him then, after having made up her mind that her +sister was to take the burden off her shoulders, than it would have been +before any such resource had presented itself! How much more awful to +meet her father when aroused by suspicion and anger, and perhaps +loathing, than to begin her confession while his face was as she had +always seen it, when turned toward her—loving and tender!</p> + +<p>She could not sit still, at last, but rose up from her chair to walk the +room—not from the old, restless energy, which needed physical exercise +to keep it within bounds, for Cornelia was now white and faint, from +exhaustion of mind and body, but from the tumult of pervading fear and +delusive hope—the attention strained to catch some sound from below, +and the dread lest it should never come. As the suspense grew more +painful, the rapidity of her walk increased.</p> + +<p>She expected now, every moment, to catch herself shrieking aloud, or +performing some mad action or other. How long had she been up there +already? Was it an hour yet? It must be an hour. Oh! it was more. Was he +never coming, then?—never? O God! was there no forgiveness? Cornelia's +walk had gone on quickening until it was almost a run. She was circling +round and round the room, like a wild animal—was growing dizzy and +exhausted, but was afraid to stop: better her body should give way than +her mind—and, all the time, her ears were alert for the slightest +sound.</p> + +<p>She halted, wild-eyed and unsteady on her feet, her hand trembling at +her lips. A step in the passage below, ascending the stairs slowly and +heavily. Oh! did it come in mercy? She tried to draw a meaning from the +sound—then dared not trust her inference. The steps had gained the +landing now—were advancing along the entry toward her door. Did they +bear a load of sorrow only, or of hate and condemnation likewise?</p> + +<p>They paused at her threshold—then there was a knock, thrice +repeated—not loud, nor rapid, nor regular, nor precise—rather as one +heart might knock for admittance to another. Cornelia tried to say "Come +in," or to open the door, but could neither speak nor move. Iron bands +seemed to be clasped around all her faculties of motion. Would he go +away and leave her?</p> + +<p>The door opened, turning slowly and hesitatingly on its hinges, until it +disclosed her father's venerable figure. His limbs seemed weak; his +shoulders drooped; but Cornelia looked only at his face. His eyes were +deep and compassionate. He held out his arms, which shook slightly but +continually: "Come, my daughter," said he.</p> + +<p>She was his daughter still! She cried out, and, walking hurriedly to +him, laid herself close against him, and he hugged her closer yet—poor, +miserable, erring creature though she was.</p> + +<p>So the three were reunited—and not superficially, but more intimately +and indissolubly than ever before. They would not be apart, but remained +together in Bressant's room—Sophie on the bed, with an expression of +divine contentment on her face, Cornelia and the professor sitting near.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said Sophie, as the afternoon came on, "I want to make my will."</p> + +<p>Cornelia caught her breath sharply, and, turning away her face, covered +her eyes with her hand. Professor Valeyon's gray eyebrows gathered for a +moment—then he steadied himself, and said, "Well, my dear."</p> + +<p>It was not a very intricate matter. The various little bequests were +soon made and noted down as she requested. After all was disposed of, +there was a little pause.</p> + +<p>"Neelie, dear," then said Sophie, turning her eyes full upon her, "I +bequeath my love to you."</p> + +<p>Cornelia perceived the hidden significance in the words, and blushed so +deep and warm that the tears were dried upon her cheeks. Sophie went on, +before she could make any reply:</p> + +<p>"And I have something left for you, too, papa, though I know no one +needs it less than you. But you may be called on for a great deal, so I +bequeath you my charity. I haven't had it so very long myself."</p> + +<p>The professor bowed his head, and, the will being complete, he took off +his spectacles, and wiped them with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I was telling Neelie this morning, papa," resumed Sophie, after a +while, "that I had been—that I'd had a dream that I was with Bressant; +and I feel sure—though I suppose you'll think it nothing but a sick +fancy of mine—that he will be here to-morrow noon."</p> + +<p>The professor looked at Sophie, startled and anxious; but her appearance +was so composed, straight-forward, and full of faith, he could not think +her wandering.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where he has been, my dear? or where he is now?" asked he, +gently.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell that. I knew and understood a great deal in my dream that +I cannot remember now," she answered. "I only know that he will be here +to-morrow, and, papa, and you, Neelie, whether you believe as I do or +not, I want you to get ready to receive him. Let it be in this dear old +room—I lying here as I am now, and you sitting so beside me. We'll wait +for him to-morrow morning until twelve o'clock. If I should die before +then, let my body stay here until noon, for I want him to see my face +when he comes, so that he'll always remember how happy I looked. But if, +after that little clock on the mantel-piece strikes twelve, still he +isn't here, then you may do with me as you will. I shall not know nor +mind."</p> + +<p>After this little speech, Sophie became very silent, being, in truth, +too weak and worn out to speak or move, save at long, and ever longer, +intervals. All that night, Professor Valeyon carried an aching and +mistrustful heart; but Cornelia had a red spot in either cheek, never +fading nor shifting. Sophie appeared to wander several times, murmuring +something about darkness, and snow, and deadly weariness. A snow-storm +had set in toward evening, and lasted until daybreak, a circumstance +which seemed to cause Sophie considerable anxiety.</p> + +<p>By ten o'clock all the preparations were made according to Sophie's +wish, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Cornelia sat brooding +with folded arms, and the feverish spots on her cheeks. Occasionally she +restlessly varied her position, seldom allowing her eyes to stray around +the room, however, save that once in a while they sought Sophie's +colorless, ethereal face, as a thirsty soul the water. The professor +stood much at the window, and once or twice he imagined he caught a +glimpse, somewhere down the road, of a darkly-clad woman's figure; but +she never came nearer, and he decided it must be a hallucination of his +fading eyes.</p> + +<p>Eleven o'clock struck from the little ormolu timepiece. A few moments +afterward Sophie stirred slightly as she lay, and the professor and +Cornelia listened breathlessly for what she would say.</p> + +<p>She lifted her heavy lids, and turned her eyes, a little dimmer now than +heretofore, but steady and confident, first on her father, then on her +sister.</p> + +<p>"Till noon—remember!" said she.</p> + +<p>Nothing more was heard, after that, but the hasty ticking of the little +ormolu clock, as its hands traveled steadily around the circle.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> + +<h3>THE HOUR AND THE MAN.</h3> + + +<p>Bressant jumped on to the platform of the newly-arrived train. The cars +were pretty full; but, coming at last to a vacant seat by the side of a +clean-shaven gentleman with a straight, hard mouth, and a glossy-brown +wig, curling smoothly inward all around the edge, he dropped into it +without ceremony.</p> + +<p>The train left the depot and hurried away over the road which Bressant +had just traversed in the opposite direction. He sat with his arms +folded, appearing to take no notice of any thing, and his neighbor with +the wig read the latest edition of a New-York paper with stern +attention, occasionally altering the position of his stove-pipe hat on +his head. By-and-by, the conductor, a small, precise man, with a +dark-blue coat, cap to match, a neatly-trimmed sandy beard, shaved upper +lip, and an utterance as distinct and clippy as the holes his steel +punch made in the tickets, came along upon his rounds.</p> + +<p>Bressant put his hands into his pockets, and discovered, with some +consternation, that he had but a comparatively small amount of money +left; his newly-accepted poverty was certainly losing no time in making +itself felt. However, such as it was, he handed it to the conductor, and +inquired how near it would take him to his proposed destination.</p> + +<p>"Eighty-one miles, rail," responded the official, as he took and clipped +the ticket of the gentleman with the newspaper; "comes shorter by road, +seventy-four to seventy-five," and he proceeded down the aisle, snapping +up tickets on one side or the other, as a hen does grains of corn.</p> + +<p>Bressant covered his eyes with his hand, and amused himself by +performing a little sum in mental arithmetic. The amount of money he had +given the conductor represented a distance which it would take a certain +length of time—say four hours—to traverse. It was now four o'clock in +the afternoon, and consequently would be eight before that distance was +accomplished. From eight o'clock Saturday night, till twelve o'clock +Sunday noon, was sixteen hours, and in sixteen hours he must travel, on +foot, and through the snow, seventy-five miles of unknown roads.</p> + +<p>"Four and a half miles an hour, and nothing to eat since breakfast," +said Bressant to himself. He took his hand from his eyes, and passed it +down his face to his beard, which he twisted and turned unmercifully. +"It's lucky it isn't any more," remarked he, philosophically.</p> + +<p>In the course of half an hour or so, the straight-mouthed gentleman, +having finished the last column of his paper, folded it up into the +smallest possible compass, and handed it politely to Bressant. The +latter accepted it abstractedly, and, opening one fold, read the first +paragraph which presented itself, his interest increasing as he +proceeded. It was in the column of latest local news, and, after +bewailing, in choice language, the frightful prevalence, even among the +highest aristocracy, of opium-eating and kindred indulgences, it went on +to particularize the sad case of an esteemed lady, of great wealth and +high connections, widow of a scion of one of our oldest families, who, +having unwisely yielded herself, during many years past, to an +inordinate use of morphine, as an antidote to nervous disorder, had, on +the previous evening, in a temporary paroxysm of madness, succeeded in +taking her own life. "No other cause can be assigned for the rash act," +pursued the paragraph, "Mrs. V—— being, in all other respects than as +regarded this unfortunate weakness, blessed beyond the average. She was +at the moment, it is understood, contemplating immediate departure for a +lengthened sojourn in Europe, taking with her an only son, a young man +of fine attainments, and a recent graduate of one of our first +theological seminaries, who desired to seek, among the European +capitals, at once for the recreation and culture, which the arduous +preparation for and the enlightened prosecution of his exalted calling +rendered respectively necessary and desirable. It is not known whether +this sad casualty will cause him to relinquish his design."</p> + +<p>After finishing this paragraph, which discreetly suppressed any further +personality than to remark that the deceased bore one of those quaint +old Knickerbocker surnames which are in New York synonymous with <i>haut +ton</i> and gentility, Bressant folded up the paper, and, resting his arms +upon the back of the seat in front of him, made them a pillow for his +forehead. This position he maintained so long, that his neighbor with +the wig came to the conclusion that he must be either asleep or drunk; +and, by way of arriving at some solution of the question, abstracted +from his hand the rolled-up newspaper which protruded out of it. At this +the young man roused himself, and presently turned to him of the wig, +and thanked him for his loan with an earnestness which appeared to him, +under the circumstances, rather uncalled for. He began to doubt the +prudence of sitting next to so large a man, of so singular a behavior, +and took advantage of the next vacancy that occurred to shift his +quarters, carrying the newspaper with him.</p> + +<p>Darkness had fallen, and the lighted interior of the crowded car had +duplicated itself, through the medium of the glass window-pane, upon the +black vacancy without, long before the train halted at the station which +marked the boundary of Bressant's riding privilege. He got out, and was +immediately smitten in the face by the cold, impalpable fingers of a +thick falling snow-storm.</p> + +<p>A bobbing lantern, carried by an invisible man, was all that came to +welcome him. He walked into the waiting-room, which was lighted by a +lamp with a dirty tin reflector behind it, and was furnished with a few +well-worn chairs, painted gray, and polished by use; a couple of +spittoons, and a pyramidal stove containing the ashes of the day's fire. +The plaster walls were ornamented by many-colored railway cards, and by +a fly-spotted and dusty map. A clock was fastened over the door.</p> + +<p>He turned to the man with the lantern (who was standing in the door-way, +looking as if he rather suspected Bressant contemplated stealing some of +the valuables of the place), and asked him whether he could tell him +the nearest road to his destination. After considerable questioning and +delay, the man finally announced his entire ignorance in the matter; and +Bressant was just about to make him a sharp rejoinder, when his eyes +happened to fall upon the map. He stepped up to it, and found it to be +of the State in which they were.</p> + +<p>By the aid of the lantern, and a good deal of dusting, he finally +discovered the spot in which he then stood, and managed to trace out a +doubtful line of road, between that and the place whither he was bound. +There seemed to be few cross-roads, however, and such as there were he +rapidly noted in his memory. In one place the road ran off in a kind of +loop, to pass through an outlying village, and, by making a cross-cut at +that point, he might save himself five or six miles. But since, on +calculation, he found it would be at least six o'clock in the morning +before he got to the loop in question, he decided not to risk +abandoning, in the state he would then be in, the beaten track for any +such problematical advantage.</p> + +<p>As he left the dirty waiting-room, and the invisible man with the +lantern, the clock over the door marked five minutes past eight. +Although it was more than twelve hours since he had eaten food, he was +not (owing to having passed so much of the day in sleep) so hungry as he +might have been. Nevertheless, appreciating what a task was before him, +he would have given any thing that he could call his own for a good meal +before starting. But he had handed over his last cent to the conductor, +and now, time pressed him.</p> + +<p>He was young and strong, and no one was more tireless in walking than +he; his joints were firm as iron, yet supple and springy; his muscles +tough and lean, of immense enduring power; his lungs were deep, and he +breathed easily through his nostrils; his gait was long and elastic; +but, had he been twice the man he was, the journey upon which he was now +started would have been no child's play; being what he was, it was +nothing less than a hazard of life and death. But Bressant seemed to +think the peril quite worth encountering, in consideration of the chance +of arriving by noon next day at the Parsonage-door; and, for the first +time in his life, he felt grateful to God for the mighty bones and +sinews he had given him. This was the time to use them, if they were +paralyzed forever after!</p> + +<p>Having gained the road, he set off with a long, swinging stride, such as +the Indians use, half-way between a walk and a run. As long as he could +keep that up, he would be making six miles an hour—a mile and a half +over the necessary rate; but he well knew he would need all his surplus +before morning broke, and was determined to make it as large as possible +before want of food weakened him. The road, except for the snow, was +favorable for speed, being nearly level and tolerably straight; but the +flakes flying into his eyes made it impossible to be sure of his +footing; and the various ruts and inequalities, common to all American +turn-pikes, and aggravated by the half-frozen snow covering, caused him +several slips and stumbles; trifling matters enough at other times, but +now, when every unnecessary breath and false step would count up +terribly, in the end, quite sufficiently serious.</p> + +<p>The vigorous motion, however, sent the blood singing through his body +from head to foot. He felt exhilarated and braced. The driving snow +melted pleasantly on his warm face, and ran down into his +thickly-curling beard, crusted over with frozen breath and sleet. The +cold air came long and refreshingly into his wide-open nostrils. He took +off his fur cap and threw open the breast of his pea-jacket. His +exuberant physical sensations wrought a corresponding effect upon his +previous mental gloom: he found himself looking to the future with +dawnings of a new hope and cheerfulness. At no time in his life had he +felt himself existing through so wide and full a range. He was a man now +in full breadth and height, and, as he looked back upon his previous +life, he could trace, as from a lofty vantage-ground, the plan and +bearing of his former thoughts and deeds.</p> + +<p>He remarked the wide discrepancies between what he had proposed and what +he had accomplished. How insignificant circumstances had effected +momentous results! He saw how, whenever failure and dishonor had +filtered in, it was where weakness, self-indulgence, or untruthfulness, +had left an opening. He saw how one wrong had been a sure and easy path +to another, until in the end he had groveled face downward in the mire.</p> + +<p>His mind turned on the two women between whom his path had lain: how +highly he had aimed, and how low he had fallen! How enviable would have +been his fate had he consistently kept to either! for each had been +peerless in her way. How despicable was his position having greedily +grasped at both! And now the one was dying, and the other degraded like +himself. A worthy record that!</p> + +<p>One was dying: yes, that he knew, and felt that upon his speed and +resolution did it depend whether in this world he might hope for the +blessing of forgiveness from her lips. The thought urged him on, +like an ever-fretting spur. He butted yet more swiftly into the +darkness and against the reeling snow-flakes, and the road lay in +steadily-lengthening stretches behind him. She was waiting for him—that +he felt—and was striving, with all her kind and loving might, to hold +herself in life until he came. God help him, then, to be there at the +appointed hour!</p> + +<p>And Cornelia? Of her he ventured not much to think. She was, perchance, +the key whereby, for her and for himself, this dark riddle should +hereafter be resolved. As Adam might labor for redemption only with his +sin about his neck, so they, out of the fabric woven of their disgrace, +must seek to fashion garments in which worthily to appear at heaven's +gates.</p> + +<p>As his mind rambled thus, he came to the outskirts of a long, wooded +tract, which—for the map, as he had seen it at the railway-station, was +clearly marked out in his memory, from the beginning to the end of his +route—he knew was upward of ten miles from his starting-point; and, as +near as he could judge (his watch, lying at the bottom of the +fountain-basin in the Parsonage-garden, had never been replaced), it +must be rather more than half-past nine o'clock. He maintained the same +long, swinging trot, as unfalteringly as ever, though, perhaps, a trifle +less springily than at first. The footing was deep and heavy, the thick +fir-trees having kept the snow from being blown off the road, as in +more exposed situations. Bressant was wet to his skin, for the +temperature had risen, and the flakes melted as fast as they fell. Most +of his glow and vigor remained, however, and he was no whit disheartened +or doubtful. But the sky bent darkly over him, and the tall trees shut +out all but a strip even of the scanty light that came thence. The moon +would not rise for hours yet.</p> + +<p>Another hour passed on over the toiling man. He had now begun to get +among hills, and his course was always either up or down. This was in +some degree a relief, affording change of movement to his muscles; but +it probably lost him some little time, and certainly gave plenty of +exercise to his lungs. Something of the superabundant warmth was leaving +his body. He replaced his cap and buttoned up his jacket. What would not +half a dozen biscuits have been worth to him now!</p> + +<p>On and on. The hills opened, and in the inclosure they made lay a small +village, with its white meeting-house and clustering dwellings. The +windows were many of them alight: the people were sitting up for the new +year. Bressant wondered whether it would dawn for any of them so +strangely as for him! As he hurried along the empty street, a sign over +one of the doors, barely discernible in the darkness, attracted his +attention. He paused close to it, and made out the words, "West India +goods and groceries;" and at once his fancy reveled in the savory +eatables stored beyond his reach. What cheese and butter, what hams, +biscuits, and apples; what salted codfish and strings of sausages, were +there! Had the store been open, he would have been tempted to rush in, +knock the salesman senseless, and make off with whatever he could carry. +Strange thoughts these for a man bound on an errand of life and death! +But hunger is no respecter of occasions, however inopportune, or of +emotions, however incongruous. Bressant passed on. He was now +twenty-five miles on his way, and as he came beneath the meeting-house +clock, it struck twelve: the new year had come! To Bressant it brought +only the knowledge that he was seven miles ahead of his time; and this +served in some measure to counteract the depression caused by his +hunger. But on—on! There were still fifty miles to go!</p> + +<p>The village vanished, like the old year, behind him. He was now crossing +a lofty plateau, over which swept the wind, strong and chilly. He began +to feel the cold now, and his wet clothes, once in a while, made him +shiver. His physical exhilaration had left him, and his long trot, save +where a downward slope favored him, had gradually sobered into a quick +walk. His shoes, soaked with snow-water, began to chafe his feet. But he +knew better than to stop for rest: the only safety lay in keeping +steadily on; and on he kept, his mouth set grimly, and his head a little +bent forward.</p> + +<p>From the top of the plateau was a gradual descent of some five miles; +and here Bressant again fell into a run, reaching the bottom, without +extraordinary exertion, in a trifle less than three-quarters of an hour. +He felt the need of his watch very keenly now; it would have been a +great assistance and encouragement to know just how much he was doing. +He could no longer afford to waste any strength, even in making +calculations; he was fully occupied in putting one foot before another.</p> + +<p>How dark, and cold, and blankly disheartening it was! He had now +completed fifty miles, though he knew it not; but it seemed to him as if +he had been full a hundred. His feet, rubbed raw, and stiffened by the +cold, were beginning to retard his pace alarmingly. His face and lips +were pale; a sensation of emptiness and chilled vitality pervaded his +body. It had come down to grim hard work; every step was a conscious +effort; and yet he had no time to spare.</p> + +<p>The storm had lightened considerably, but the young man's eyes were dull +and heavy; it was a constant struggle to keep awake. He scarcely +attended to the road, but plunged along, careless of where he trod. +Suddenly, however, and for the first time since starting, he came to a +dead halt, and, after gazing about him a moment, cried out in dismay. +And well he might, for he stood in a field, with no sign anywhere of +road or path! In his sleepy inattention, he had lost his way and +wandered he knew not whither.</p> + +<p>At first he was too much paralyzed by this discovery to think or act. He +threw himself face downward on the snow, and lay like a log. God was +against him! How could he go on? Ah, how sweet felt that cold bed! Let +him lie there in peace, to move no more! Surely he had done his best; +who could blame him for a failure beyond his power to avert? The +darkness would pass over him, and leave him stretched there motionless; +the first light of morning would mark the dark outlines of his prostrate +figure, and he would not turn to greet it. Daylight would succeed, the +sun would climb the sky and shine down upon him warmly; but he would be +insensible as to the darkness or the cold. Twilight would settle over +the field again, and night, following, would find him as she had left +him, prone upon his face, with outstretched arms. For he would be +dead—dead—dead—and at rest!</p> + +<p>But the end had not yet come. Ere he had quite sunk into insensibility, +he was conscious of a feeling within him, as if some one were +pulling—pulling at his heart, with a force benign and loving, yet +strong as death itself. He staggered to his feet, and, stumbling as he +walked, set his face against the cold and cheerless sky once more. The +pulling at his heart-strings seemed to draw him steadily in one certain +direction; he traversed acres of field and pasture-land blind and +insensible to every thing save this mysterious guide. In his weak and +exhausted state his spiritual perceptions were doubtless less incumbered +than when he was in full possession of his strength. So he was drawn +undeviatingly on and on, until, unexpectedly, he found himself in a road +again. Then he recognized that it was Sophie's spirit which had rescued +him from death and failure. He had unconsciously made the short cut +across the fields, which he had noticed and decided not to attempt when +examining the map. He had saved five miles in distance, equal to fully +an hour in time. The thought inspired him anew, and gave him further +strength. With such divine encouragement, he could falter and hesitate +no more.</p> + +<p>Morning began to break dully over the sullen clouds as he resumed in +earnest his weary journey. Each yard of ground passed was now a battle +gained—every breath drawn a sobbing groan. Hills and dales rose +successively before him, clothed in the dead-white snow that had become +a nightmare to his darkening sight. He reeled sometimes as he walked, +dizzy from lack of sleep; a thousand fantastic fancies flitted through +his hot brain; a deadly lethargy began once more to creep over his +senses, but he gnawed the flesh of his lips to keep back consciousness. +And still, when will grew powerless, he felt the mysterious strain upon +his heart.</p> + +<p>Only ten miles more! But they seemed by far the longer part of the whole +way. He was now within the range of his walks while living at the +boarding-house, and could see in his mind every slope and ascent, every +curve and angle, that lay between him and the Parsonage-door; and he +felt the weight of every hill upon his shoulders. At the risk of +falling, he stooped, snatched a handful of snow, and put it inside his +cap, so that it lay, cold and refreshing, upon his brain. Then he took a +handful in either hand, and so kept on.</p> + +<p>The minutes grew into hours; the hours seemed to become days; but there, +at last, the well-known village lay! How reposeful and unconcerned the +houses looked, as if there were no such thing in the world as effort, +despair, or victory! As he came near, Bressant tried to nerve himself, +to walk erect and steady, to clear and concentrate his swimming sight +and confused head. He dreaded to meet the village-people, to have them +come staring and questioning about him, whispering and laughing among +themselves, and asking one another what was the matter with the man who +was engaged to the minister's daughter on this his wedding-morning. +Just then he felt a gentle pulling at his heart!</p> + +<p>Presently he was in the village. There was a disjointed vision of faces, +some of which he knew, floating around him. Once in a while he caught +the sound of a voice through the humming in his ears. Were they offering +him assistance? warning him? calling to him? He knew not, nor cared. He +passed on, feebly but desperately. He saw the clock on the +church-steeple mark half-past eleven; still in time, thank God! but no +time to lose.</p> + +<p>How well he knew the road, over which he was now groping his staggering +and uncertain way! In how many moods he had walked it, actuated by how +many different passions and impulses! And now he was as one dead, whose +body is dragged strangely onward by some invincibly-determined will. A +great fear suddenly seized upon him that here, upon this very last mile +of all the weary ones he had trod since the previous night-fall, he was +going to sink down, and give up his life and his attempt at the same +moment. Oh, Heaven help him to the end! O Sophie, let not the tender +strain upon his heart relax!</p> + +<p>For nothing less than that can save him now! His eyes see no longer; his +feet stumble in ignorance; he sleeps, and dreams of events which +happened—was it long ago?—upon this road. Here he met and talked with +Cornelia, that autumn day. Back there, they paused on the brow of the +hill, one moonlight night, was that so long ago, too? Here, some time in +the past, he had found a lifeless body in the snow, clad in a bridal +dress; here, he had caught a runaway horse by the head, and—</p> + +<p>He fell headlong to the ground. The shock partly awoke him. He struggled +up to his knees—was there any one assisting him?—another struggle—he +was on his feet. Right before him lay the house—the old Parsonage; +there were the gate, the path, the porch. He made a final effort—it +forced a deadly sweat from his forehead—and still there was a vague +sense of being supported and directed by some one—he could not stop to +see or question who; but, had it not been for that support, he must have +failed. The gate opened, with its old creak and rattle, before him; a +hand he saw not held it till he passed through.</p> + +<p>Now, at the moment when he had fallen in the road, of the three who had +all along been awaiting him within—of these three, two only were left. +But, so quietly had the third departed, the others perceived not that +she was gone. The features, which remained, wore an expression of +angelic happiness. It was as she had wished.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, too, through a rift in the dull sky, a little gleam +of sunshine—the first of that gray day—descended, and rested upon +Bressant. It accompanied him to the gate, and, still keeping close to +him, slipped up the path between the trees, and even followed him on to +the porch, where it brightened about him, as he put his hand to the +latch. Was it a symbol of some loving spirit, newly set free from its +mortal body, come to watch over him for evermore?</p> + +<p>An old woman, who stood without clutching the palings of the gate, saw +Bressant open the door and pass inward, and the sunshine entered with +him. The door was left ajar—might she not enter too? Just then, a +little ormolu clock, on the mantel-piece inside, gave a preliminary +whirr, and hastily struck the hour of noon. As if in answer to a signal, +the sun smiled broadly forth, and quite transfigured the weather-beaten +old Parsonage.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 15596-h.txt or 15596-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15596">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/5/9/15596</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Bressant + + +Author: Julian Hawthorne + +Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15596] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT*** + + +E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team from page images generously +made available by the Digital & Multimedia Center, Michigan State +University Libraries + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through Making of + America Collection, University of Michigan Libraries. See + http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moagrp/ + + + + + +BRESSANT + +A Novel + +by + +JULIAN HAWTHORNE + +1873 + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I.--HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF + + II.--SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER + + III.--SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT + + IV.--A BUSINESS TRANSACTION + + V.--BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE + + VI.--CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT + + VII.--PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL + + VIII.--GREAT EXPECTATIONS + + IX.--THE DAGUERREOTYPE + + X.--ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT! + + XI.--EVERY LITTLE COUNTS + + XII.--DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART + + XIII.--A KEEPSAKE + + XIV.--NURSING + + XV.--AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE + + XVI.--PARTING AN ANCHOR + + XVII.--SOPHIE'S CONFESSION + + XVIII.--A FLANK MOVEMENT + + XIX.--AN INTERMISSION + + XX.--BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN + + XXI.--PUTTING ON THE ARMOR + + XXII.--LOCKED UP + + XXIII.--ARMED NEUTRALITY + + XXIV.--A BIT OF INSPIRATION + + XXV.--ANOTHER INTERMISSION + + XXVI.--BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION + + XXVII.--FACT AND FANCY + + XXVIII.--A DISAPPOINTMENT + + XXIX.--FOUND + + XXX.--LOST + + XXXI.--MOTHER AND SON + + XXXII.--WHERE TWO ROADS MEET + + XXXIII.--TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR + + XXXIV.--THE HOUR AND THE MAN + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +HOW PROFESSOR VALEYON LOSES HIS HANDKERCHIEF. + + +One warm afternoon in June--the warmest of the season thus +far--Professor Valeyon sat, smoking a black clay pipe, upon the broad +balcony, which extended all across the back of his house, and overlooked +three acres of garden, inclosed by a solid stone-wall. All the doors in +the house were open, and most of the windows, so that any one passing in +the road might have looked up through the gabled porch and the +passage-way, which divided the house, so to speak, into two parts, and +seen the professor's brown-linen legs, and slippers down at the heel, +projecting into view beyond the framework of the balcony-door. +Indeed--for the professor was an elderly man, and, in many respects, a +creature of habit--precisely this same phenomenon could have been +observed on any fine afternoon during the summer, even to the exact +amount of brown-linen leg visible. + +Why the old gentleman's chair should always have been so placed as to +allow a view of so much of his anatomy and no more is a question of too +subtle and abstruse conditions to be solved here. One reason doubtless +lay in the fact that, by craning forward over his knees, he could see +down the passage-way, through the porch, and across the grass-plot which +intervened between the house and the fence, to the road, thus commanding +all approaches from that direction, while his outlook on either side, +and in front, remained as good as from any other position whatsoever. To +be sure, the result would have been more easily accomplished had the +chair been moved two feet farther forward, but that would have made the +professor too much a public spectacle, and, although by no means +backward in appearing, at the fitting time, before his fellow-men, he +enjoyed and required a certain amount of privacy. + +Moreover, it was not toward the road that Professor Valeyon's eyes +were most often turned. They generally wandered southward, over the +ample garden, and across the long, winding valley, to the range of +rough-backed hills, which abruptly invaded the farther horizon. It was +a sufficiently varied and vigorous prospect, and one which years had +endeared to the old gentleman, as if it were the features of a friend. +Especially was he fond of looking at a certain open space, near the +summit of a high, wooded hill, directly opposite. It was like an oasis +among a desert of trees. Had it become overgrown, or had the surrounding +timber been cut away, the professor would have taken it much to heart. A +voluntary superstition of this kind is not uncommon in elderly gentlemen +of more than ordinary intellectual power. It is a sort of half-playful +revenge they wreak upon themselves for being so wise. Probably Professor +Valeyon would have been at a loss to explain why he valued this small +green spot so much; but, in times of doubt or trouble, be seemed to +find help and relief in gazing at it. + +The entire range of hills was covered with a dense and tangled +timber-growth, save where the wood-cutters had cleared out a steep, +rectangular space, and dotted it with pale-yellow lumber-piles, that +looked as if nothing less than a miracle kept them from rolling over and +over down to the bottom of the valley, or where the gray, irregular face +of a precipice denied all foothold to the boldest roots. There was +nothing smooth, swelling, or graceful, in the aspect of the range. They +seemed, hills though they were, to be inspired with the souls of +mountains, which were ever seeking to burst the narrow bounds that +confined them. And, for his part, the professor liked them much better +than if they had been mountains indeed. They gave an impression of +greater energy and vitality, and were all the more comprehensible and +lovable, because not too sublime and vast. + +In another way, his garden afforded as much pleasure to the professor as +his hills. From having planned and, in a great measure, made it himself, +he took in it a peculiar pride and interest. He knew just the position +of every plant and shrub, tree and flower, and in what sort of condition +they were as regarded luxuriance and vigor. Sitting quietly in his +chair, his fancy could wander in and out along the winding paths, +mindful of each new opening vista or backward scene--of where the shadow +fell, and where the sunshine slept hottest; could inhale the fragrance +of the tea-rose bush, and pause beneath the branches of the elm-tree; +the material man remaining all the while motionless, with closed +eyelids, or, now and then, half opening them to verify, by a glance, +some questionable recollection. This utilization, by the mental +faculties alone, of knowledge acquired by physical experience, always +produces an agreeable sub-consciousness of power--the ability to be, at +the same time, active and indolent. + +In about the centre of the garden, flopped and tinkled a weak-minded +little fountain. The shrubbery partly hid it from view of the balcony, +but the small, irregular sound of its continuous fall was audible in the +quiet of the summer afternoons. Weak-minded though it was, Professor +Valeyon loved to listen to it. It suited him better than the full-toned +rush and splash of a heavier water-power; there was about it a human +uncertainty and imperfection which brought it nearer to his heart. +Moreover, weak and unambitious though it was, the fountain must have +been possessed of considerable tenacity of purpose, to say the least, +otherwise, doing so little, it would not have been persistent enough to +keep on doing it at all. It was really wonderful, on each recurring +year, to behold this poor little water-spout effecting neither more nor +less than the year before, and with no signs of any further aspirations +for the future. + +A flight of five or six granite steps led up from the garden to the +balcony, and, although they were quite as old as the rest of the house, +they looked nearly as fresh and crude as when they were first put down. +The balcony itself was strongly built of wood, and faced by a broad and +stout railing, darkened by sun and rain, and worn smooth by much leaning +and sitting. Overhead spread an ample roof, which kept away the blaze +of the noonday sun, but did not deny the later and ruddier beams an +entrance. On either side the door-way, the windows of the dining-room +and of the professor's study opened down nearly to the floor. Every +thing in the house seemed to have some reference to the balcony, and, +in summer, it was certainly the most important part of all. + +From the balcony to the front door extended, as has already been said, +a straight passage-way, into which the stairs descended, and on which +opened the doors of three rooms. It was covered with a deeply-worn strip +of oil-cloth, the pattern being quite undistinguishable in the middle, +and at the entrances of the doors and foot of the stairs, but appearing +with tolerable clearness for a distance of several inches out along the +walls. A high wainscoting ran along the sides; at the front door stood +an old-fashioned hat-tree, with no hats upon it; for the professor had +a way of wearing his hat into the house, and only taking it off when he +was seated at his study-table. + +The gabled porch was wide and roomy, but had seen its best days, and was +rather out of repair. The board flooring creaked as you stepped upon it, +and the seams of the roof admitted small rills of water when it rained +hard, which, falling on the old brown mat, hastened its decay not a +little. A large, arched window opened on either side, so that one +standing in the porch could be seen from the upper and lower front +windows of the house. The outer woodwork and roof of the porch were +covered by a woodbine, trimmed, however, so as to leave the openings +clear. A few rickety steps, at the sides and between the cracks of +which sprouted tall blades of grass, led down to the path which +terminated in the gate. This path was distinguished by an incongruous +pavement of white limestone slabs, which were always kept carefully +clean. The gate was a rattle-boned affair, hanging feebly between two +grandfatherly old posts, which hypocritically tried to maintain an air +of solidity, though perfectly aware that they were wellnigh rotted away +at the base. The action of this gate was assisted--or more correctly +encumbered--by the contrivance of a sliding ball and chain, creating a +most dismal clatter and flap as often as it was opened. The white-washed +picket fence, scaled and patched by the weather, kept the posts in +excellent countenance; and inclosed a moderate grass-plot, adorned with +a couple of rather barren black cherry-trees, and as many firs, with +low-spread branches. + +Above the house and the road rose a rugged eminence, sparely clothed +with patches of grass, brambles, and huckleberry-bushes, the gray knots +of rock pushing up here and there between. On the summit appeared +against the sky the outskirts of a sturdy forest, paradise of nuts and +squirrels. The rough road ran between rude stone-fences and straggling +apple-trees to the village, lying some two miles to the southeast. About +two hundred yards beyond the Parsonage--so Professor Valeyon's house was +called, he, in times past, having officiated as pastor of the +village--it made a sharp turn to the left around a spur of the hill, +bringing into view the tall white steeple of the village meeting-house, +relieved against the mountainous background beyond. + +They dined in the Parsonage at two o'clock. At about three the professor +was wont to cross the entry to his study, take his pipe from its place +on the high wooden mantel-piece, fill it from the brown earthen-ware +tobacco-box on the table, and stepping through the window on to the +balcony, takes his place in his chair. Here he would sit sometimes till +sundown, composed in body and mind; dreaming, perhaps, over the rough +pathway of his earlier life, and facilitating the process by exhaling +long wreaths of thinnest smoke-layers from his mouth, and ever and anon +crossing and recrossing his legs. + +On the present afternoon it was really very hot. Professor Valeyon, +occupying his usual position, had nearly finished his second pipe. He +had thrown off the light linen duster he usually wore, and sat with his +waistcoat open, displaying a somewhat rumpled, but very clean white +shirt-bosom; and his sturdy old neck was swathed in the white necktie +which was the only visible relic of his ministerial career. He had +covered his bald head with a handkerchief, for the double purpose of +keeping away the flies, and creating a cooling current of air. One of +his down-trodden slippers had dropped off, and lay sole-upward on the +floor. There was no symptom of a breeze in the still, warm valley, nor +even on the jagged ridges of the opposing hills. The professor, with all +his appliances for coolness and comfort, felt the need of one strongly. + +Mellowed by the distance, the long shriek of the engine, on its way from +New York, streamed upon his ears and set him thinking. A good many years +since he had been to New York!--nine, positively nine--not since the +year after his wife's death. It hardly seemed so long, looking back upon +it. He wondered whether time had passed as silently and swiftly to his +daughters as to him. At all events, they had grown in the interval from +little girls into young ladies--Cornelia nineteen, and Sophie not more +than a year younger. "Bless me!" murmured the professor aloud, taking +the pipe from his mouth, and bringing his heavy eyebrows together in a +thoughtful frown. + +He would scarcely have believed, in his younger years, that he would +have remained anywhere so long, without even a thought of changing the +scene. But then, his society days were over long ago, and he had seen +all he ever intended to see of the world. Here he had his house, and his +daily newspaper, and his books, and his garden, and the love and respect +of his daughters and fellow-townspeople. Was not that enough--was it not +all he could desire? But here, insensibly, the professor's eyes rested +upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill opposite. + +Very few people, be they never so old, or their circumstances never so +good, would find it impossible to mention something which they believe +they would be the happier for possessing. Perhaps Professor Valeyon was +not one of the exceptions, and was haunted by the idea that, were some +certain event to come to pass, life would be more pleasant and gracious +to him than it was now. Doubtless, however, an ideal aspiration of some +kind, even though it be never realized, is itself a kind of happiness, +without which we might feel at a loss. If the professor's solitary wish +had been fulfilled, and there had been no longer cause for him to say, +"If I had but this, I should be satisfied," might it not still happen +that in some unguarded, preoccupied moment he should start and blush to +find his lips senselessly forming themselves into the utterance of the +old formula? Would it not be a sad humiliation to acknowledge that the +treasure he had all his life craved, did not so truly fill and occupy +his heart as the mere act of yearning after it had done? + +In indulging in these speculations, however, we are pretending to a +deeper knowledge of Professor Valeyon's private affairs than is at +present authorizable. After a while he withdrew his eyes from the +hill-tops, sighed, as those do whose thoughts have been profoundly +absorbed, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. He began to debate +within himself--for the mind, unless strictly watched, is apt to waver +between light thoughts and grave--whether or no it was worth while to +make a second journey into the study after more tobacco. Perhaps +Cornelia was within call, and would thus afford a means of cutting the +Gordian knot at once. No! he remembered now that she had walked over to +the village for the afternoon mail, and would not be back for some time +yet. And Sophie--poor child! she would not leave her room for two weeks +to come, at least. + +"I wonder whether they ever want to see any thing of the outside world?" +said the old gentleman to himself, elevating his chin, and scratching +his short, white beard. "Reasonable to suppose they could appreciate +something better than the society hereabouts! A picnic once in a +while--sleigh-ride in winter--sewing-bees--dance at--at Abbie's; and all +in the company of a set of country bumpkins, like Bill Reynolds, and +awkward farmers' daughters! + +"It won't do--must be attended to! The good education I was at such +pains to give them--it'll only make them miserable if they're to wear +their lives out here. I'm getting old and selfish--that's the truth of +the matter. I want to sit here, and have my girls take care of me! +Pshaw! + +"Sophie, now--well, perhaps she don't need it so much, yet; she's +younger than her sister, and has a good deal more internal resource: +besides, she's too delicate at present. But Neelie--Neelie ought to go +at once--this very summer. She needs an enormous deal of action and +excitement, bodily and mental both, to keep her in wholesome condition. +Has that same restless, feverish devil in her that I used to have; never +do to let it feed upon itself! must get her absorbed in outside things! + +"But what am I to do?" resumed the professor, sitting up in his chair, +and shaking out his shirt-sleeves--for the heat of his meditations had +brought on a perspiration; "what can I do--eh? Sophie not in condition +to travel--can't leave her to take Cornelia--no one else to take +her--and she can't go alone, that's certain! Humph!" + +Professor Valeyon paused in his soliloquy, like a man who has turned +into a closed court under the impression that it is a thoroughfare, and +stared down with upwrinkled forehead at the sole of the kicked-off +slipper, indulging the while in a mental calculation of how many days it +would take for the hole near the toe to work down to the hole under the +instep, and thus render problematical the possibility of keeping the +shoe on at all. It might take three weeks, or, say at the utmost, a +month; one month from the present time. It was at the present time about +the 15th of June, the 14th or the 15th, say the 15th! Well, then, on the +15th of July the slipper would be worn out; in all human probability the +weather would be even hotter then than it was now; and yet, in the face +of that heat he would be obliged to go over to the village, get Jonas +Hastings to fit him with a new pair, and then go through the long agony +of breaking them in! At the thought, great drops formed on the old +gentleman's nose, and ran suddenly down into his white mustache. + +But this digression of thought was but superficial, and the sense that +something serious underlaid it remained always latent. The professor +leaned back in his chair, and sighed again heavily. It was true that he +was growing old, and now that he contemplated action, he felt that in +the last nine years the inertia of age had gained upon him. Besides, he +greatly loved his daughters, and though it is easy to say that the +greatest love is the greatest unselfishness, yet do we find a weakness +in our hearts which we cannot believe wholly wrong, strongly prompting +us to yearn and cling--even unwisely--to those who have our best +affection. "And what seems wise to-day may be proved folly to-morrow," +is our argument, "so let us cling to the good we have." + +And Professor Valeyon well knew that what time his daughters departed to +visit the outer world was likely to be the beginning of a longer journey +than to Boston or New York. They were attractive, and, it was to be +supposed, liable to be attracted; he would not be so weak as to imagine +that their love for their father could long remain supreme. But this old +man, who had kept abreast of the learning of the world, and was scarred +with many a bruise and stab received during his life's journey; who had +filled a pulpit, too, and preached Christian humility to his fellow +townspeople, had yet so much human heat and pride glowing like embers in +his old heart as to feel strong within him a bitter jealousy and sense +of wrong toward whatever young upstarts should intrude themselves, and +venture to brag of a love for his flesh and blood which might claim +precedence over his own. Doubtless the feeling was unworthy of him, and +he would, when the time came, play his part generously and well; but, so +long as the matter was purely imaginary, we may allow him some natural +ebullition of feeling. + +So powerful, indeed, was the effect produced upon Professor Valeyon by +the succession and conflict of gloomy and painful emotions, that he laid +down his black clay-pipe upon the broad arm of the easy-chair, and began +to search in all directions for his handkerchief: indulging himself +meanwhile with the base reflection that as there was no present +probability of depriving himself of his daughters, that ceremony must, +for a time at least, be postponed. While yet the handkerchief-hunt was +in full cry, the professor's ears caught the rattle and flap of the +opening gate, and following it the quick, vigorous tap of small +boot-heels upon the marble flagstones. Next came a light, rustling +spring up the creaking porch-steps, and ere the old gentleman could +get his head far enough over his knees to see down the entry, a +fresh-looking young woman appeared smiling in the door-way, dressed in +a tawny summer-suit, and holding up in one hand a long, slender envelop, +sealed with a conspicuous monogram, and stamped with the New York +post-mark. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER. + + +Before the delivery of the letter, a very pretty little ceremony took +place. The professor had stretched forth his hand to receive it, when, +by a sudden turn of the wrist and arm, the young lady whisked it out of +his reach and behind her back, and in place of it brought down her +fresh, sweet face with its fragrant mouth to within two inches of his +own wrinkled and bristly visage. A moment after, the ceremony was +completed, the letter delivered, and the postman, stepping over her +father's fallen slipper, leaned against the balcony-railing, and waited +for further developments. + +The professor took his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket, placed them +carefully upon his strongly-marked nose, and scrutinized in turn the +direction, post-mark, and seal. With a sniff of surprise, he then tore +open the envelop, and became immediately absorbed in the contents of the +inclosure, indicating his progress by much pursing and biting of his +lips, wrinkling of his forehead, and drawing together of his heavy +eyebrows. Having at length reached the end of the last page, he turned +it sharply about, and went through it once more, with half-articulate +grunts of comment; and finally, folding the letter carefully up, and +replacing it in the torn envelop, he caught the spectacles off his +nose, and, with them in one hand and the paper in the other, fixed his +eyes upon the vacant spot at the summit of the hill. + +His daughter meanwhile had taken off her brown straw-hat, and was using +it as a fan, keeping up a light tattoo with one foot upon the plank +flooring. Her face was glowing with her four-mile walk in the hot sun, +but she showed no signs of weariness. The position in which she stood +was easy and graceful, but there was nothing statuesque or imposing +about it; it was evident that at the very next instant she might shift +into another equally as happy. Her eyes wandered from one object to +another with the absence of concentration of one whose mind is not fixed +upon any thing in particular. From the letter between the professor's +finger and thumb, they traveled upward to his thoughtful countenance; +thence took a leap to the decrepit water-spout which depended weakly +from the corner of the balcony-roof, and thence again ascended to a +great, solid, white cloud, with turreted outline clear against the blue, +which was slowly sliding across the sky from the westward, and +threatened soon to cut off the afternoon sunshine. + +The professor restlessly altered the position of his legs, thereby +drawing his daughter's attention once more to himself. Thinking she had +waited as long as was requisite for the maintenance of her dignity as a +non-inquisitive person, she transferred herself lightly to the arm of +her father's chair, grasping his beard in her plump, slender hand, and +turned his face up toward hers. + +"Well, papa! aren't you going to tell what the news is? Is it nice?" + +"Very nice!" said papa, taking her irreverent hand into his own, and +keeping it there. "At least you will think so," he added, looking half +playful and half wistful. + +Cornelia brought her lips into a pout, all ready to say, "what?" but did +not say it, and gazed at her father with round, interrogating eyes. + +"You'd be very glad to go away and leave me, of course," continued the +professor, assuming an air of studied unconcern. + +"Papa!" exclaimed the young lady, with an emphatic intonation of +affection, indignation, and bewilderment. + +"What! not be glad to go to New York, and to all the fashionable +watering-places, and be introduced to all the best society?" queried the +old gentleman, in hypocritical astonishment. + +"Papa!" again exclaimed the young lady; but this time in a tone which +the tumult of delight, anticipation, and a fear lest there should be a +mistake somewhere, softened almost into a whisper. She had risen from +the arm of the chair to her feet, and stood with her hands clasped +together beneath her chin. + +The professor laughed a short and rather unnatural laugh. "I thought you +wouldn't be obstinate about it, when you came to think it over," said +he, dryly. He folded up his spectacles and put them back in his +waistcoat pocket with, unusual elaboration of manner. "So you would +really like to have a change, would you? Well, I trust you will not be +disappointed in your expectations of society and watering-places. At all +events, you may learn to appreciate home more!" Here the professor +laughed again, as if he considered it a joke. + +Cornelia was too much entranced by the new idea to have any notion of +what he was talking about; she was already hundreds of miles away, +living in stately houses, driving in magnificent carriages, sweeping in +gorgeous silks and laces through gilded and illuminated ballrooms, and +listening to courtly compliments from handsome and immaculate gentlemen. +But when, presently, her scattered faculties began to return to a more +normal state, an unquenchable curiosity to know how the miracle was to +be worked, seized upon her. She dropped on her knees beside her father's +chair, took his hand in both of hers, and looked up in his face. + +"But how is it to be, papa, dear? I mean, whom am I to go with? and when +am I to go?--dear me, I haven't a thing to wear! Shall I have time to +get any thing ready? Isn't Sophie invited too? How strange it all seems! +I can hardly realize it, somehow. From whom is the letter?" + +"Can you remember when you were about nine years old?" inquired the +professor. + +"I don't know, I am sure," replied Cornelia, in some surprise at the +irrelevancy of the question. "Nothing particular. Oh! I know! we were in +New York!" said she, beginning to see some connection, and breaking into +a smile. + +"Do you remember seeing a lady there," continued the professor, talking +and looking straight at nothing, "who made a great deal of you and +Sophie, and asked you to call her Aunt Margaret?" + +"Oh--I believe--I do--," said Cornelia, slowly; "I think I didn't like +her much, because she was deaf or something, and talked in such a high +voice. She wasn't really our aunt, was she? Did she write the letter?" + +"Yes, she did, my dear, and invites you and Sophie to spend the summer +with her. You don't dislike her so much as to refuse, I suppose, do +you?" + +"O papa!" exclaimed his daughter, deprecatingly; for the old gentleman +had spoken rather in a tone of reproof. "I'm sure she's as kind and good +as she can be; I was only telling what I especially remembered about +her, you know. How did she come to think of us after so long?" + +"I used to know her quite well, long before you were born, my dear," +replied the professor, tapping with his fingers on the arm of the chair; +"and at that time I should not have been surprised at her offering me +any kindness. I _am_ surprised now," he added, with a good deal of +feeling; "she's a better friend than I thought." + +Cornelia remained silent for several moments, because, not in the least +comprehending what sort of ground her papa was walking on, she feared +that the questions and remarks she was anxious to advance might jar with +his mood. At length, a sufficient time having elapsed to warrant, in her +opinion, the introduction of intelligible topics, she looked up and +spoke again. + +"How soon, papa--how soon did you say--am I to go?" + +"First of July, Aunt Margaret says. Will that give you time enough to +make yourself fine?" + +"Now, papa, you're making fun of me," exclaimed the young lady, +delighted that he should be in the humor to do so, yet speaking in that +semi-reproachful tone which ladies sometimes adopt when the other sex +makes their costume the object of remark, "I can make myself as fine as +I can be by that time, of course! But how is it about Sophie? Won't she +be able to go too?" + +Papa shook his head, and combed his bristly white beard with his +fingers. "Sophie has been very ill," said he; "it wouldn't be safe to +have her go anywhere this summer. We can't take too much care of her. +Typhoid pneumonia is a dangerous thing, and though she's on the way to +recovery now, she might easily relapse. And then," added the old +gentleman, in a more inward tone, "she would recover no more." + +Although he mumbled this sentence to himself, Cornelia caught his +meaning, more, probably, from his manner than from any thing she heard; +and being of an emotional and warmly-tender disposition, she began to +cry. She loved her sister very much; and something must also be allowed +to the fact that, having a great happiness in prospect for herself, she +could afford to expend more sympathy on those less fortunate. As for the +professor, he, for a second time that afternoon, gave evidence of +possessing disgracefully little control over himself. He began another +fruitless search after his handkerchief, and finally asked Cornelia, +with some heat, whether she knew what had become of it. + +"Why, it's on your head, papa!" warbled she, brightly changing a laugh +for her tears; and papa, putting up his hand in great confusion, and +finding that it was indeed so, laughed also, and this time in a +perfectly natural manner; but he blew his nose very resoundingly, for +all that. + +The atmosphere being serene once more, the joy of the future became +again strong in Cornelia's heart, and coupled with it, an earnest +longing to disburden herself to some one, and who but her sister should +be her confidant? So she rose from her knees, and picked up her brown +straw hat, which, in the excitement, had fallen to the floor. + +"Is there any thing you'd like to do, papa dear?" asked she, laying her +forefinger caressingly upon his bald head. "Because if there isn't, I, I +should like--I think I'd better go to Sophie." + +Professor Valeyon nodded his head, being in truth desirous of taking +solitary counsel with himself. The letter contained a good deal more +than the invitation he had communicated to Cornelia, and he could not +feel at ease until he had more thoroughly analyzed and digested it. So +when his daughter had vanished through the door, with a smile and a kiss +of the hand, he mounted his spectacles again, and spread the letter open +on his knee. + +After reading a while in silence, he spoke; though his voice was audible +only to his own mental ears. + +"There was a time," said he, "when I wouldn't have believed I could ever +hear the news of that man's death, and take it so quietly! And now he +sends me his son!--as it were bequeaths him to me. Can it be as a +hostage for forgiveness, though so late? or is it merely because he knew +I could not but feel a vital interest in the boy, and would instruct and +treat him as my own? He was a shrewd judge of human nature--and yet, I +must not judge him harshly now." + +Here Professor Valeyon happened again to catch sight of his slipper, and +interrupted his soliloquy to extend his stockinged toe, fork it toward +himself, and having, with some trouble, got it right side uppermost, to +put it on. And then he referred once more to the letter. + +"I should like to know whether he was aware that Abbie was here, or that +she was alive at all! Margaret says nothing about it in her letter. If +he did, of course he must have written to her, or, if he was determined +to die as for these last twenty years and more he has lived, he would +never _knowingly_ have sent the boy where she was, on any consideration. +Well, well, I can easily find out how that is, from either Abbie or the +boy. By-the-way, I wonder whether this _incognito_ of his may have any +thing to do with it? Hum! Margaret says it's only so that he may not be +interrupted in his studies by acquaintances. Well, that's likely +enough--that's likely enough!" + +"By-the-way, where's the young man to stay? At Abbie's, of course, +if--Margaret says, at some good boarding-house. Well, Abbie's is the +only one in town. It's a singular coincidence, certainly, if it _is_ a +coincidence! Perhaps I'd better go down at once and see Abbie, and have +the whole matter cleared up. I shall have time enough before supper, if +I harness Dolly now." + +As Professor Valeyon arrived at this conclusion, he uplifted himself, +with some slight signs of the rustiness of age, from his chair, took his +brown-linen duster from the balcony railing across which it had been +thrown, and put it on, with laborious puffings, and a slight increase of +perspiration. Then, first turning round, to make sure that he had all +his belongings with him, he entered the hall-door, and passed through +into his study. + +The rooms in which we live seem to imbibe something of our +characteristics, and the examination of a dwelling-place may not +infrequently throw some light upon the inner nature of its occupant. The +professor's study was of but moderate size, carpeted with a +red-and-white check straw matting, considerably frayed and defaced in +the region of the table, and faded where the light from the windows fell +upon it. The four walls were hidden, to a height of about seven feet +from the floor, with rows upon rows of books, of all sizes and varieties +of binding, no small proportion being novels, and even those not +invariably of a classical standard. The only picture was a stained +engraving of the Transfiguration, over the mantel-piece, in a faded and +fly-be-spotted gilt frame. In the centre of the room, occupying, indeed, +a pretty large share of all the available space, stood an ample +study-table, covered with green baize, darkened, for a considerable +space around the inkstand, by innumerable spatterings of ink. It +supported a confused medley of natural and unnatural accompaniments to +reading and writing. A ponderous ebony inkstand, with solid cut-glass +receptacles, one being intended for powder, though none was ever put in +it, a mighty dictionary, which, being too heavy to be considered +movable, occupied one corner of the table by itself: the earthen +tobacco-jar, with a small piece chipped from the cover; pamphlets and +books, standing or lying upon one another; heaps of rusty steel and +blunted quill pens; a quire or two of blue and white letter-paper; a +paper-knife, loose in the handle, but smooth of edge; a box of lucifer +matches, and several burnt ends; an extra pipe or two; the professor's +straw hat; a brass rack for holding letters and cards; and a great deal +of pink blotting-paper scattered about everywhere. + +Opposite the table stood a chair, straight-backed and severe, in which +Professor Valeyon always sat when at work. He had a theory that it was +not well to be too much at bodily ease when intellectually occupied. +Directly behind the chair, upon the shelf of a bookcase, stood a plaster +cast of Shakespeare's face, the nose of which was most unaccountably +darkened and polished. It is doubtful whether even the professor himself +could have cleared up the mystery of this deepened color in the immortal +bard's nose. But whoever, during those hours set apart by the old +gentleman for solitary labor and meditation, had happened to peep in at +the window, would, ten to one, have beheld him tilted thoughtfully back +in his chair, abstractedly tweaking, with the forefinger and thumb of +his right hand, the sacred feature in question. He had done it every +day, for many years past, and never once found himself out, and, +doubtless, the great poet was far too broad-minded ever to think of +resenting the liberty, especially as it was only in his most thoughtful +moments that the professor meddled with him. + +The room contained little else in the way of furniture, except a few +extra chairs, and a malacca-joint cane, with an ivory head, which stood +in a corner near the door. It produced an impression at once of +cleanliness and disorder, therein bearing a strong analogy to the +professor's own person and habits; and the disorder was of such a kind, +that, although no rule or system in the arrangement of any thing was +perceptible, Professor Valeyon would have been at once and almost +instinctively aware of any alteration that might have been made, however +slight. + +On entering the study, the old gentleman first shuffled up to the +fireplace, flapping the heels of his slippers behind him as he went, and +deposited his pipe on the mantel-piece. Next, he put on his straw hat, +and, turning to the engraving of the Transfiguration, which had served +him as a looking-glass almost ever since it had hung there, he put +himself to rights, with his usual fierce scowlings, liftings of the +chin, and jerkings at collar and stock. When every thing seemed in +proper trim, he took his ivory-headed cane from its place in the corner, +and made his way along the entry to the front door. + +"Bless me!" ejaculated the professor, as he emerged upon the porch, +shading his eyes from the white dazzle of the road; "how hot it is, sure +enough!" Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the sun, which had been +coquetting for the last half-hour with the majestic white cloud which +Cornelia had idly watched from the balcony, suddenly plunged his burning +face right into its cool, soft bosom, and immediately a clear, gray +shadow gently took possession of the landscape. + +"Humph!" grunted the professor again, turning a sharp, wise eye to the +westward, "we shall have a thunder-shower before long. I must take the +covered wagon. But how's this? I declare I've forgotten to change my +slippers! I'm growing old--I'm growing old, that's certain!" + +As the old gentleman stood, shaking his head over this new symptom of +approaching senility, he happened to turn his eyes in the direction of +the village, and descried a figure approaching rapidly from the turn in +the road, which at once arrested his attention. + +"Who can that be?" muttered he to himself, frowning to assist his +vision. "None of the town boys, that's certain. Never saw such a figure +but once before! If any thing, this is the better man of the two. +By-the-way, what if it should be--! Humph! I believe it is, sure +enough." + +By this time the stranger, a very tall and broadly built young man, with +a close brown beard, and quick, comprehensive eyes, had arrived opposite +the house, and stood with one hand on the gate. + +"Is this the parsonage?" demanded he, speaking with great rapidity of +utterance, and turning his head half sideways as he spoke, without, +however, removing his eyes from the professor's face. + +The old gentleman nodded his head, "It is known by that name, sir!" said +he. + +With the almost impatient quickness which marked every thing he did--a +quickness which did not seem in any way allied to slovenliness or +inaccuracy, however--the young man pushed through the gate, which +protested loudly against such rough usage, and walked hastily up to the +porch-steps. He paused a moment ere ascending. + +"Are you Professor Valeyon?" he asked. + +Again the professor bowed his head in assent. "And are you--?" began +he. + +The young man sprang up the steps, and grasping the other's +half-extended hand, gave it a brief, hard shake. + +"I'm Bressant," said he. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT. + + +When Cornelia left her father on the balcony, she danced up-stairs, and +chasseed on tiptoe up to the door of Sophie's room. There she stopped +and knocked. + +Somehow or other, nobody ever went into that room without knocking. It +never entered any one's head to burst in unannounced. The door was an +unimposing-looking piece of deal, grained by some village artist into +the portraiture of an as yet undiscovered kind of wood, and considerably +impaired in various ways by time. It could not have been the door, +therefore. Nor was the bolt ever drawn, save at certain hours of the +morning and night. Sophie was not an ogre, either. Cornelia, who was +very trying at times, would have found it hard to recall an occasion +when Sophie had answered or addressed her sharply or crossly. If she +exerted any influence, or wielded any power, it was not of the kind +which attends a violent or morose temper. But no vixen or shrew, how +terrible soever she may be, can hope at all times or from all people to +meet with respect or consideration; while to Sophie Valeyon the world +always put on its best face and manner, secretly wondering at itself the +while for being so well-behaved. + +As to the affair of knocking, Sophie herself had never said a word about +it, one way or another. She always took it as a matter of course; +indeed, had she been loquacious on the subject, or insisted upon the +observance, Cornelia for one would have been very likely to laugh to +scorn and disregard her, therein acting upon a principle of her own, +which prompted her to measure her strength against any thing which +seemed to challenge her, and never to give up if she could help it. But +she had never had a trial of strength with Sophie, and possibly was +quite contented that it should be so. She would have shrunk from +thwarting or crossing her sister as she would from committing a secret +sin: there might be no material or visible ill-consequence, but the +stings of conscience would be all the sharper. + +So Cornelia knocked and entered, and the quiet, cool room in which her +sister lay seemed to glow and become enlivened by the joyous reflection +of her presence. Yet the effect of the room upon Cornelia was at least +as marked. She hushed herself, as it were, and tried, half +unconsciously, to adapt herself to the tone of her surroundings; for, +although her physical nature was sound and healthy, almost to +boisterousness, her perceptions remained very keen and delicate, and +occasionally rallied her upon the redundancy of her animal well-being +with something like reproof. + +It was singular, with how few and how simple means was created the +impression of purity and repose that this chamber produced! It brought +to mind the pearly interior of a shell, and a fanciful person might have +listened for the sea-music whispering through. The walls were papered +with pale gray, relieved by a light pink tracery, and the white-muslin +curtains were set off by a pink lining. A bunch of wild-flowers and +grasses, which Cornelia had gathered that morning, and Sophie had +arranged, stood on the mantel-piece. There were four or five +pictures--one, a bass-relief of Endymion, deep asleep, yet conscious in +his dream that the moon is peeping shyly over his polished shoulder, had +been copied from a famous original by Sophie herself. She had painted it +in a pale-brown mezzotint, which was like nothing in nature, but seemed +suitable of all others for the embodiment of the classic fable. This +picture hung over the mantel-piece. Opposite Sophie's bed was an +illumination of the Lord's Prayer, with clear gold lettering, and +capitals and border of celestial colors. The dressing-table was covered +with a white cloth, on which reposed a comb and brush and a pink +pin-cushion with a muslin cover, and over which hung a crayon of the +cherub of the Sistine Madonna, who leans his chin upon his hand. + +Within reach of Sophie's hand as she lay, were suspended a couple of +hanging shelves, which held her books. There were not a great many of +them, but they all bore signs of having been well read, and there was at +the same time a certain neatness and spotlessness in their appearance +which no merely new books could ever possess, but which was communicated +solely by Sophie's pure finger-touches. On the opposite side of the bed +stood a small table, on which ticked a watch; and beside the watch was a +work-basket, full of those multifarious little articles that only a +woman knows how to get together. + +Looking around the room, and noting the delicate nicety and precision of +its condition and arrangement, one would have supposed that Sophie's own +hands must have been very lately at work upon it. But it was many weeks +since she had even sat in the easy-chair that stood in the +rosy-curtained window; and, although now far advanced in convalescence, +she had taken no part in the care of her room since her illness. Why it +had still continued to retain its immaculateness was one of many similar +mysteries which must always surround a character like Sophie's. Every +thing she accomplished seemed not so much to be done, as to take place, +in accordance with her idea or resolve; and there were always, in her +manifestations of whatever kind, more spiritual than material elements. + +When Cornelia entered, Sophie laid down her sewing, and looked up-with a +smile in her eyes, which were large and gray, and the only regularly +beautiful part of her face. She had a way of confining a smile to them, +when wishing merely to express good-will or pleasure, which was peculiar +to herself, and very effective. Cornelia walked quite soberly up to the +bedside, kissed her sister, and then stood silent for several moments. + +Compared with her recent exhilaration, this was very extraordinary +behavior. She had rushed up-stairs intent upon pouring into Sophie's +ears the whole gorgeous tale of her hopes and anticipations for the +coming summer. Yet no sooner was she within the door than her excitement +seemed to die out, and her enthusiasm ebb away. Extraordinary as it +appeared, it was by no means a rare occurrence. Cornelia alone could +have told how common; if, indeed, she ever reflected upon the matter. +She was very quick to feel a divergence of interests between her sister +and herself, and always inferred that Sophie could not sympathize with +any thing for which she had no personal taste. In the present instance, +it had all at once occurred to her that her sister would not be likely +to care half so much about the gayeties of fashionable watering-places +and city-life as she did, and might therefore treat with indifference +what was to her an affair of the greatest moment; and a snub being one +of those things which Cornelia found it most difficult, even in the +mildest form, to endure, she had resolved, on the spur of the moment, to +approach the topic of her proposed departure with the same coolness +which she expected Sophie to manifest when she heard about it. + +"Have you kept at that sewing ever since I went away?" asked she, idly +examining the work which Sophie had laid down. + +"I believe so," replied Sophie, stroking her chin to a point between her +forefinger and thumb. "It's so pleasant to be able to sew again at all +that I should consider it no hardship to have to sew all day." + +Cornelia's thoughts immediately reverted to the dresses which the next +two weeks must see made. + +"You wouldn't be strong enough to do that, though, would you? I mean to +sew on dresses, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Dresses?" said Sophie, looking up inquiringly into her sister's face. +"Oh, you mean your dress for Abbie's Fourth-of-July party? I thought you +were going to wear your--" + +"Oh, no, not that; I wasn't thinking of that," interrupted Miss Valeyon, +with a gesture as if deprecating the idea of having ever entertained +ideas so lowly. "I shall hardly be in town on the Fourth," she added, +reflectively, as if calculating her engagements. + +Sophie looked amazed, though it would have taken a keener observer than +Cornelia was at the moment to detect the slight contraction of the under +eyelids, and the barely perceptible droop of the corners of the mouth. +She saw that her sister had something of moment to tell her, and was, +for some reason, coquettish about bringing it out. Cornelia was often +entertaining to Sophie when she least had intention of being so; but +Sophie was far too tender of the young lady's feelings knowingly to let +her suspect it. + +"Not be in town?" repeated she, demurely taking up her work; "why, where +are you going, dear?" + +"Oh!" said Cornelia, with one of those little half-yawns wherewith we +cover our nervousness or suspense, "I didn't tell you, did I? Papa +received a letter from a lady in New York, the one who wanted us to call +her 'Aunt Margaret' when we were there ever so long ago--the year after +mamma died, you know--asking me to come to her house there, and go round +with her to Saratoga and all the fashionable watering-places. The +invitation was for about the first of July, so--" + +Cornelia, speaking with a breathless rapidity which she intended for +_sang froid_, had got thus far, when Sophie, who had dropped her work +again, and had been regarding her with a beautiful expression of +surprise, joy, and affection in her eyes, stretched forth her arms, +cooed out a tender little cry of happy congratulation and sympathy, and +hugged her sister around the neck for a few moments in a very eloquent +silence. + +"Why, Sophie!" murmured Cornelia, covered with an astonishment of +smiles and tears, "how sweet you are! I didn't think you'd care; I +thought you'd think it foolish in me to be glad, dear Sophie!" + +"My darling!" said Sophie, with another hug. She felt rebuked and +remorseful; for if, as Cornelia's words unconsciously implied, her +sympathy was unexpected, it would appear she had gained a reputation for +coldness and indifference which she was far from coveting. It often +happens, certainly, that those whom we consider intellectually beneath +us, and whom, supposing them too dull to comprehend the evolutions of +our minds, we occasionally use for our amusement, possess an instinctive +insight far keener than that of experience, enabling them to read our +very souls with an accuracy which puts our self-knowledge to the blush, +and might quite turn the tables upon us, could they themselves but +appreciate their power. + +"But tell me all about it," resumed Sophie; "all the particulars. And +then we'll discuss the dresses. Dear me! I long to get to work upon +them." + +As a matter of fact, Cornelia had very few particulars to tell: all she +knew was the simple fact she had already stated. But it needed only a +small spark to enkindle her imagination; she plunged at once into a +perfect flower-garden of bright thoughts and rainbow fancies; +foreshadowed her whole journey from the arrival in New York to the +latest grand ball and conquest; glowed over the horses, the houses, and +the people; speculated profoundly in possible romances and romantic +possibilities, and became so eloquent in a pretty, half-childish, +half-womanish way she had, that Sophie's eyes shone, and she told +herself that Neelie was the dearest, cunningest sister in the world. + +From these glorious imaginings they descended--or ascended, perhaps--to +the dresses, and then Sophie's low, steady voice mingled with Cornelia's +rich, strenuous one, like pure water with red wine. Cornelia paced the +little room backward and forward--she could never keep still when she +was talking about what interested her, and now paused by the window, now +before the mantel-piece, now leaned for a moment on the foot-board of +Sophie's bed. She was very happy; indeed, this may have been the +happiest hour of her life, past or to come. We all have our happiest +hour, probably; and not always shall we find that happiness to have been +caused by higher or less selfish considerations than those which +animated Cornelia Valeyon. + +During one of her visits to the window, she was arrested by the vision +of an unknown young man coining up the road. She at once became silent. + +"What is it?" demanded Sophie, presently. + +"Some man--a new one--a gentleman--awfully big!" reported Cornelia, in +detached sentences, with a look between each one. + +"As big as Bill Reynolds?" asked Sophie, with a twinkle in her face. + +"How absurd, Sophie! Bill Reynolds, indeed! He isn't up to this man's +shoulder. Besides, this is a gentleman, and--oh!" exclaimed Cornelia, +breaking off suddenly, and drawing back a step from the window. + +"Has the gentleman had an accident?" inquired Sophie, still twinkling. + +"He's stopped here--speaking to somebody--father, I believe; he's +coming in--there! do you hear?" cried Cornelia, turning round with large +eyes and her finger at her mouth, and speaking in a thrilling whisper. +The sound of the quick, irregular tread of Mr. Bressant, following the +professor into the study, was audible from below. + +"Who can he be?" resumed she presently, as Sophie said nothing. + +"If he's a gentleman, we don't need to know any more, do we?" replied +her sister, from behind her sewing. + +"Well, he is one," rejoined Cornelia, uncertain whether she was being +made fun of or not. "He was dressed like one; not _bandboxy_, you know, +but nicely and easily; and he stands and moves well; and then his +face--" + +"Is he handsome?" asked Sophie, as Cornelia paused. + +"Oh! he has that refined look--I can't describe it--better than +handsome," said she, giving a little wave with her hand to carry out her +meaning. + +"It's lucky he was so big," remarked Sophie, very innocently, "or you +might not have been able to see so much of him in such a little time." + +"Sophie!" said Cornelia, after a silence of some moments, speaking with +tragic deliberation, "you're making fun of me; I think you're very +unkind. I don't see what there is to laugh at in what I said; and if +there was any thing, I think _you_ might not laugh." + +"O Neelie--dear Neelie!" exclaimed Sophie, coloring with regret and +shame; "I didn't think you'd mind it; it was only my foolishness. Don't +think I meant to be unkind to you, dear. I wish the man had never come +here, whoever he is, if he is to come between us in any way. Won't you +forgive me, darling?" and she held out her hand to Cornelia with a +wistful, beseeching look in her eyes that thawed her sister's resentment +immediately, and after a very brief struggle to preserve her dignity, +she subsided with her face upon the pillow beside her sister's. + +"We won't ever quarrel or any thing again, will we, Sophie?" said she, +after a while. + +"Never about that gentleman, at all events!" answered Sophie; and then +they both laughed and kissed each other to seal the bargain. + +Once, long afterward, Cornelia remembered that kiss, and the words that +had accompanied it; and pondered over the bitter significance with which +the simple act and playful agreement had become fraught. + +But now, the subject was soon forgotten, and they fell to talking about +the dresses once more; nor was the topic by any means exhausted when +they were interrupted by the professor's voice calling to them from +below. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A BUSINESS TRANSACTION. + + +Professor Valeyon led the way to the study, stood his cane in the +corner, and placed a chair for his guest, in silence. "Just like his +father!" said he to himself, as he repaired to the mantel-piece for his +pipe; "not a bit of his mother about him. Who'd have thought so sickly a +baby as they said he was, would have grown into such a giant?--Smoke?" +he added, aloud. + +"You must talk loud to me--I'm deaf," said the young man, with his hand +to his ear. + +"Pleasant thing in a pupil, that!" muttered the old gentleman, as he +filled his pipe and lit it. "How it reminds one of his father--that +bright questioning look, when he leans forward! One might know who he +was by that and nothing else!" He sat down in his chair, and ruminated a +moment. + +"Hardly expected you up here so soon after your loss," observed he, in +as kindly a tone and manner as was comportable with speaking in a very +loud key. + +"Loss! I've had no loss!" returned Bressant, with a look of perplexity. +"Oh! you mean my father!" he exclaimed, suddenly, throwing his head back +with a half-smile. He very seldom laughed aloud. "There was nothing to +do. The funeral was the day before yesterday. I did all the business +before then. Yesterday I packed up, and here I am!" + +"Death couldn't have been unexpected, I presume?" said the professor, +on whom Bressant's manner made an impression of resignation to his loss +rather too complete. + +"The hour of death can only be a matter of guess-work at any time," +returned the young man. "My father had been expecting to die for some +months past; but he'd been mistaken once or twice before, and I thought +he might be this time. But he happened to guess right." + +"Filial way of talking, that," thought Professor Valeyon, rather taken +aback. "Didn't get that from his father; he was soft spoken enough, in +all conscience! Queer now, this matter of resemblance! there's a certain +something in his style of speaking, and in the way he looks just after +he has spoken, that reminds me of Mrs. Margaret. Deaf people are all +something alike, though; and he's been with her a great deal, I suppose. +Well, well! as to the way he spoke about his father, what looked like +indifference may have been merely embarrassment, or an attempt to +disguise feeling; or perhaps it was but a deaf man's peculiarity. At all +events, it can do no harm to suppose so." + +"Were you with him during his last moments?" asked he. + +"Oh, yes! I saw him die," answered Bressant, nodding, and pulling his +close-cut brown beard. + +Professor Valeyon smoked for a while in silence, occasionally casting +puzzled and searching glances at the young man, who took up a book from +the table--it happened to be a volume of Celestial Mechanics--and began +to read it with great apparent interest. His face was an open and +certainly not unpleasant one; very mobile, however, and vivid in its +expressions; the eyebrows straight and delicate, and the eyes bright and +powerful. The forehead was undeniably fine, prominently and capaciously +developed. Nevertheless--and this was what puzzled the professor--there +was a very evident lack of something in the face, in no way interfering +with its intellectual aspect, but giving it, at times, an unnatural and +even uncanny look. In meeting the young man's eyes, the old gentleman +was ever and anon conscious of a disposition to recoil and shudder, and, +at the same time, felt impelled, by what resembled a magnetic +attraction, to gaze the harder. Did the very fact that some universal +human characteristic was omitted from this person's nature endow him +with an exceptional and peculiar power? There was an uncertainty, in +talking and associating with him, as to what he would do or say; an +ignorance of what might be his principles and points of view; an +impossibility of supposing him governed by common laws. Such, at least, +was the professor's fancy concerning him. + +But again, turning his eyes to his pipe, or out of the window, was it +not fancy altogether? Beyond that he was unusually tall and broad across +the shoulders, and of a very intelligent cast of features, what was +there or was there not in this young man different from any other? He +had the muffled irregular voice, and alert yet unimpressible manner, +peculiar to deafness. But was there any thing more? The professor took +another look at him. He was reading, and certainly there were no signs +of any thing strange in his appearance, more than that, at such a time, +he should be reading at all. It was when speaking of his father that +the uncanny expression had been especially noticeable. "Suppose," said +Professor Valeyon to himself, "we try him on another subject." + +"You've been educated at home, I understand," began he, from beneath his +heavy eyebrows. + +"Oh, yes!" replied Bressant, shutting his book on his knee, and +returning the professor's look with one of exceeding keenness and +comprehensiveness. "Educated to develop faculties of body and mind, not +according to the ordinary school and college system." He drew himself +up, with an air of such marvelous intellectual and physical efficiency, +that it seemed to the professor as if each one of his five senses might +equal the whole capacity of a common man. And then it occurred to him +that he remembered, many years ago, having heard some one mention a +theory of education which aimed rather to give the man power in whatever +direction he chose to exercise it, than to store his mind with greater +or less quantities of particular forms of knowledge. The only faculty to +be left uncultivated, according to this theory, was that of human +love--this being considered destructive, or, at least, greatly +prejudicial, to progress and efficiency in any other direction. The +professor could not at the moment recall who it was had evolved this +scheme, but it became involuntarily connected in his mind with +Bressant's peculiarities. + +"According to the letter I received to-day, you come here to be trained +to the ministry," resumed he. "Has all your previous education had this +in view?" + +"The education would have been the same, understand, whatever the end +was to be," explained the young man, with a shrewd smile in his sharp +eyes. "I am as well prepared to study theology as if I had been aiming +at it all my life; but I might take up engineering or medicine as well +as that. About a year ago, I decided to become a minister." + +"And what led you to do that?" demanded the old gentleman, with rather a +stern frown. He did not like the idea of approaching religion in other +than a reverent and self-searching attitude. + +"My father first suggested it," replied Bressant, on whom the frown +produced no sort of impression. "At the time, it surprised me, +especially from him. Afterward, I concluded I could not do better. No +one has such a chance to move the world as a minister. I thought of +Christ, and Paul, and Luther, and many before and since. They were all +ministers, and who had greater power? I felt I had the ability, and I +decided that it was as a minister I could best use it." + +"But what are you going to use it for?" questioned the professor, +settling his spectacles on his nose, and leaning across the table in his +earnestness. + +"The men I have mentioned used theirs to invent, or confirm, or +overthrow, religious sects, and perhaps they couldn't have done better +in their age. Their names are as well known now as ever, and that's the +best test. But I hope I may discover a better method. I shall have the +advantage of their experience and mistakes. Perhaps I shall develop and +carry out to its conclusion the dogma of Christianity. That would be +well as a beginning." + +"Very well, that's certain!" assented the professor, dryly. "It's all I +shall be able to give you any assistance in, too, so we needn't discuss +what the next step will be. By-the-way, did you ever hear of doing any +thing for the glory of God, and for the love of your fellow-men?" + +"Oh, yes! they're pass-words of the profession, and have their use," +returned Bressant, with another of his keen smiles. "If you want to +climb above the world, the rounds in your ladder must be made of common +woods that everybody knows the names of. The Bible is full of such, and +some of them are works of genius in themselves. After all, it is the +people who must immortalize us, and we must feed them with what they are +in the habit of eating." + +"What induced you to come here, sir?" asked the professor, abruptly. + +"I never should have come of myself," answered the young man, with +entire frankness. "I never heard your name mentioned until less than a +year ago. It was the first time my father was expecting to die. He told +me you were a wise man, and learned besides; he had known you when you +were young; you would have some interest in teaching me; he would feel +more at ease to die, if he knew you were directing me. I thought it +over, as I said, and decided to come. Understand, I knew of no one +except you, and I didn't want to go to a theological school." + +"Humph!" grunted the professor, who was by no means well satisfied with +the prospect, yet had reasons of his own for taking up the matter if +possible. He smoked for a while longer, and Bressant resumed his book. + +"By-the-way, about this _incognito_ of yours," said the former at +length, laying aside his pipe, and taking off his straw hat: he had +forgotten to remove it on entering, and it had been oppressing him with +a sense of vague inconvenience ever since. "What is the meaning of it? +Do you mean to keep it strict? Is the idea you own?" + +"Oh, no! I heard nothing of it till after my father was dead. It was +Mrs. Vanderplanck--she who wrote you the letter--who first spoke to me +of it, and said he had desired it. I don't know what the necessity of it +is, but it must be kept a strict secret. Should any one besides you know +who I am, I stand in danger of losing my fortune." + +"Ah, ha! lose your fortune!" exclaimed the professor, frowning so +portentously as to unseat his spectacles. "How does that happen, sir?" + +Bressant looked considerably amused at the old gentleman's evident +emotion; the more as he saw no occasion for it. "I never had the +curiosity to ask how," said he, pulling at his beard. "I shall run no +risks with my fortune. I'm satisfied to know there might be danger; +there's no difficulty in keeping silence about a name." + +Professor Valeyon rose from his chair and walked to the window. A mighty +host of gray clouds, piled thickly one upon another, and torn and +tunneled by feverish wind-gusts, were hastening swiftly and silently +across the sky from the west. Beyond, where they were thickest and +angriest, a yellowish, lurid tint was reflected against them. The valley +darkened like a frowning face, and the summits of the western hills +were blotted out of sight. A lightning-flash shivered brightly through +the air, and then came the first growling, leaping, accumulating peal of +thunder. A sudden, rustling breath swept through the garden, and, +following it, in big, quick drops, and soon in an unintermittent +myriad-footed tramp, the rustling, perpendicular down-pelting of the +rain. + +In less than a minute, a gray, wet veil had been drawn across the +farther side of the valley, hiding it from the professor's sight. Even +the outer limits of the garden grew indistinct. The leaves of the trees +bobbed ceaselessly up and down, and glistened and dripped; the shrubs +and flowers seemed to lift themselves higher from the earth, and stretch +out their green fingers to the plenteous shower. The tinkle of the +fountain was quite obliterated, and the ordinarily smooth surface of the +basin sprang upward in thousands of tiny pyramids, as if madly welcoming +the impact of the rain-drops. Small cataracts tore in desperate haste +down the slope of the garden-paths, laying bare in their pigmy fury the +lower strata of rough gravel and pebbles. Upon the roof of the balcony +was maintained an evenly sonorous monotone of drubbing, as if +innumerable fairy carpenters were nailing on the shingles. The invalid +water-spout had a hard time of it; it was racked, shaken, and bullied, +and continually choked itself with the volubility of its fluent +utterances, which were instantly swallowed up in the bottomless depths +of the waste-barrel. A strong, cool, earthy odor rose from the garden, +and was wafted past the professor's nostrils, and into the heated house. +The moist brown flower-beds exhaled a fragrant thankfulness, and the +grass-blades looked twice as green and twice as tall as before. +Meanwhile the heavy, regular pulse of the thunder had been beating +intermittently overhead, and bounding ponderously from hill-side to +hill-side; and ever and anon the lightning had showed startlingly in +dazzling zigzags through the omnipresent shadow. But now it seemed that +there was a little less weight in the fall, and gloom in the air. The +pervading freshness of the breeze made itself more unmistakably +perceptible. The west began to lighten, and the rain and darkness +drifted to the east. As for Professor Valeyon, if his thoughts had been +in a tumult, like the elements, might they not become quiet again also? + +"After all," said the old gentleman to himself, "it's not the young +fellow's fault. If his father was a heartless scoundrel, it doesn't +follow that he knows it. Well, the man is dead--it can't be helped now, +that's certain. But what a cunningly-contrived plot it is! Shuts my +mouth by confiding to me the _incognito_ and sending me the son to +educate; destroys the last hope of setting an old wrong right; takes +advantage, for base ends, of the deepest feelings of human hearts: not +to speak of preventing the young man himself from being party to a noble +and generous action. Did ever man carry such a load down to the grave! + +"Suppose Margaret--no! it isn't likely she would know any thing about +it. He wasn't the man to make confidants of women. She gave the message +to the son, not knowing what it meant, probably. Why, he wouldn't have +dared to tell her! And then inviting Cornelia--no, no! I've had some +acquaintance with Margaret, and, with all her nonsense, I believe she's +honest. Besides, what interest could she have to be otherwise? To be +sure, she didn't give me the true reason for the _incognito_; but that's +nothing; she's just the woman to tell a useless fib, and reserve the +truth for important occasions only--or what she thinks such." + +The professor remained a while longer at the window, abstractedly +staring at the drops which hastened after one another from the wet +eaves. Suddenly he turned around, and walked up to the table, flapping +his slipper-heels, and settling his spectacles, as he went. + +"Did any one ever speak to you of your mother, sir?" demanded he in the +ear of the reading Bressant. "Confound the fellow!" passed at the same +time through his mind; "does he think I'm a chair or a table?" + +"My mother?" repeated the young man, looking up, and appearing somewhat +surprised at the idea of his ever having possessed the article. "Oh, +yes! my father once told me she was dead. It was long ago. I'd almost +forgotten it." + +"Told you she was dead, hey? Humph! just what I expected!" growled the +old gentleman, who seemed, however, to become additionally wrathful at +the intelligence. After a moment's scowl straight at his would-be pupil, +he shuffled up to his chair, and sat solidly down in it. Bressant (to +whom the professor had probably appeared to the full as peculiar as he +to the professor), seeing signs of an approach to business in his action +and attitude, tossed his book on the table, leaned forward with his +elbows on his knees, and fixed his eyes directly upon the old +gentleman's glasses. + +"You seem to be in the habit of speaking your own mind freely, sir," +observed the latter; "and I shall do the same, on this occasion at least +I'm going to accept you as a pupil, and shall do my best for you; but +you must understand it's by no means on your own account I do it. As far +as I have seen them, I don't like your principles, your beliefs, or your +nature. You're the last man I should pick out for a minister, or for any +other responsible position. In every respect, except intelligence and an +unlimited confidence in yourself, you seem to me unfit to be trusted. In +training you for the ministry, I shall do it with the hope--not the +expectation--of instilling into you some true and useful ideas and +elevated thoughts. If I succeed, I shall have done the work of a whole +churchful of missionaries. If I fail, I shan't recommend you to be +ordained. And never forget that you will be indebted for all this to +some one you've never known, and who, I am at present happy to say, +don't know you. Whether or not you'll ever become acquainted is known to +God alone, and I'm very glad that the matter lies entirely in His hands. +Now, sir, what have you to say?" + +Bressant, who had been looking steadily and curiously at the professor +during the whole of this long speech, now passed his hand from his +forehead down over his face and beard--a common trick of his--smiled +meditatively, and said: + +"I'm glad you agree to take me. I don't care for your recommendation if +I have your instruction. Shall we begin to-morrow?" + +There followed a discussion relative to hours, methods, and materials, +which lasted very nearly until tea-time. Then, as there was still some +rain falling, the professor extended to his pupil an invitation to +supper, on his accepting which the old gentleman shuffled out into the +entry, and called to Cornelia to come down and make the necessary +preparations. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BRESSANT PICKS A TEA-ROSE. + + +Supper was ready: Cornelia surveyed the table for the last time, to make +sure it was all right. It was an extension-table, but the spare leaves +had been removed, and it was reduced to a circle. A mellow western light +from that portion of the sky unswathed in clouds streamed through the +window, and did duty as a lamp. The cloth was white, and tapered down in +soft folds at the corners; a pleasant profusion of sparkling china and +silver, and of savory eatables, filled the circumference of the board, +leaving just space enough to operate in, and no more. In the centre of +the table, and perceptible both to eyes and nose on entering the room, +was a tall glass dish, lined with wet green leaves, and pyramided with +red strawberries. A comfortable steam ascended from the nose of the +tea-pot, and vanished upward in the gloom of the ceiling; the brown +toast seemed crackling to be eaten; the smooth-cut slices of marbled +beef lay overlapping one another in silent plenteousness; and the knives +and forks glistened to begin. Cornelia opened the entry-door, and called +across to her papa in the study that supper was ready. Then she took up +her position behind her chair, with one hand resting on its back, and a +silent determination that the visitor, whoever he was, should be +impressed with her dignity, condescension, and good looks. + +"This is my daughter Cornelia. Mr. Bressant is going to be a pupil of +mine, my dear," said the professor, as he and Bressant advanced into the +room. + +He gave his hand an introductory wave in Cornelia's direction as he +spoke, but probably did not speak loud enough to be distinctly beard by +his guest. Nevertheless, seeing the motion and the lady, Bressant +inclined forward his shoulders with an elastic readiness of bearing +which was customary with him, in spite of his unusual stature, and then +took his place at the table without bestowing any further attention upon +her. It passed through Cornelia's mind, as she lifted the tea-pot, that +Mr. Bressant was outrageously conceited, and should be taken down at the +first opportunity. She had made a very graceful courtesy, and it was not +to be overlooked in that way with impunity. + +"Milk and sugar, sir?" said she, interrogatively, raising her eyes to +the young man's face with a somewhat gratuitous formality of manner, and +holding a piece of sugar suspended over the cup. + +Bressant had certainly been looking in her direction as she spoke; he +had the opposite place to her at table; but instead of replying, even +with a motion of the head, he, after a moment, turned to Professor +Valeyon, who was gently oscillating himself in the rocking-chair he +always occupied at meals, and asked him whether he knew any thing about +a place in town called "Abbie's Boarding-house." + +Cornelia laid down the sugar and tongs, and looked very insulted and +flushed. What sort of a creature was this her papa had brought to his +supper-table? Papa, who had noticed the awkward turn, and was tickled by +the humor thereof, could not forbear to give evidence of amusement, +insomuch that his daughter, who was by no means of a lymphatic +temperament, was almost ready to leave the table, or burst into tears +with injured and astonished dignity. + +Bressant, with that exceeding quickness of perception which most persons +with his infirmity possess under such circumstances, transferred his +glance from the professor to the young lady, and at once arrived at a +pretty correct understanding of the difficulty. He was not embarrassed, +for it had probably never occurred to him that his deafness was so much +a defect as a difference of organization, and he lost no time in +explaining matters in his customary way. + +"I'm deaf; when you talk to me you must speak loud," said he, looking +full at Cornelia's disturbed face. + +Miss Valeyon had never been so thoroughly discomfited. She was smitten +on three sides at once. Bad enough to be insulted; worse, having become +properly angry, to find no insult was meant; and, worst of all, to have +been the means of drawing attention, by her bad temper, to a physical +infirmity in her papa's guest. She abandoned upon the instant all +intention of being ceremonious and imposing, and only thought how she +might atone, to her papa and to Bressant, for her ill-behavior. + +He would not take tea--nothing but water; and, as Cornelia proceeded in +silence to pour out her papa's cup, the latter answered Bressant's +question about the boarding-house. + +"Know it very well, sir. Very good house. What have you heard about it?" + +"Nothing more than that; I asked a man at the depot. My trunk has been +taken there. I'm satisfied if the woman 'Abbie' is respectable, and +gives me enough to eat." The young man had accepted Cornelia's tender of +a slice of beef, and seemed fully equal to doing it again. + +"The 'woman Abbie' respectable, sir!" exclaimed the professor in +half-muzzled ire; but he checked himself suddenly, and tried to be +contented with shoving his plate, tumbler, and tea-cup, to and fro +before him. "I could not have recommended you to a better person," he +added presently, evidently putting a restraint upon himself. "I have the +highest--I hold her in very high estimation, sir." + +Bressant nodded, and presently took some more of the beef. + +"Have you seen Abbie yet, Mr. Bressant?" inquired Cornelia in a timid +tone, which, however, was deprived of all melody by the effort to suit +it to the young man's ears. But it was necessary to say something. + +"Oh, no!" he replied, smiling at her in the pure good-nature of physical +complacency, and noticing for the first time that she was an agreeable +spectacle. He judged absolutely and primitively, never having had that +experience of women which might have enabled him to make comparison the +base of his opinion. "I came right up here from the depot. My trunk was +sent to the boarding-house; it will hire a room for me, I suppose." + +At this sally, Cornelia smiled very graciously, though ten minutes +before she would have snubbed it promptly. She had had some experience +with the young men of the village--easy victims--and had acquired a +rather good opinion of her satirical powers. But Bressant was a peculiar +case; his deafness enlisted her compassion and forbearance, and her own +late rudeness made her gentle. Perhaps the young gentleman was not so +far out of the way in failing to consider his infirmity a disadvantage. + +Meanwhile, Professor Valeyon was swinging backward and forward, ever and +anon pausing to take a bite or a sup, and eying the stem of the +strawberry-dish, in deepest contemplation. Cornelia, who from a +combination of causes, felt more embarrassed than ever in her +remembrance, devoutly wished that he would rouse himself, and make some +conversation. She did all she could, in the way of supplying the guest +with eatables, and making little remarks upon them, to fill up awkward +pauses; but she was conscious she was being stupid; and even when she +thought of a good thing to say, the reflection that it must needs be +shouted aloud made her pause until the available moment had gone by. It +was some relief that Bressant ate well, and seemed in no way shy or cast +down himself. There was a freshness and vivacity in his enjoyment of his +supper which was pleasing to Cornelia for several reasons: it was +evidently very far from being affected, was consequently indirectly +complimentary to her, and showed a certain boyishness in him which +contrasted very agreeably, or, as Cornelia would have said, "cunningly," +with his mature and intellectual aspect. In fact, Bressant was in a +particularly happy mood. The cool air and pleasant room, and the +gratification of a healthy appetite, caused his senses to expand, and, +as it were, sun themselves. Cornelia's beauty could not have been +presented under more favorable auspices, especially as woman's +loveliness had heretofore been an unturned page in the young man's life. +True, it pleased him in the same way as, and probably not to a greater +degree than, would the symmetrical elegance of a vase, or the tinted +beauty of a flower; but he had not yet known the limitless additional +charm given by life, variety, and emotion. Would he ever know it? or was +he so profoundly ignorant of the matter as to run in danger of finding +it out unexpectedly, and perhaps too late? + +The strawberry pyramid sank and disappeared. Cornelia began anxiously to +wonder what was to be done now. Bressant sat enjoying his sensations, +and Professor Valeyon, who appeared to have arrived at some definite +conclusion after his meditations, rolled up his napkin and shoved it +into the ring, previous to setting it down with that peculiar tap which +announced that the meal was over. + +On leaving the table, Bressant sauntered out of the room and on to the +balcony, with a disregard of what other people might intend, which +caused Cornelia to recollect her first impression of him. Nevertheless, +not knowing what else she could do, she followed, and found him leaning +over the railing, and looking about him with serene enjoyment. The +clouds had been mostly dispersed; a fresh air moved in the damp garden; +and Cornelia was soon aware that the mosquitoes were abroad. Her +muslin-covered arms and shoulders began to suffer. + +Bressant raised himself at her approach, and stood with one hand +against the railing, looking down upon her with a half-smile of interest +and satisfaction, which made Cornelia feel not so much like a human +being, as some rare natural curiosity which he was glad to have the +opportunity of examining. + +"You are one of the daughters?" said he, with the sudden scrutinizing +contraction of the eyebrows that often accompanied his questions. "There +are two, aren't there? Which one are you?" + +"I'm Cornelia," replied she, provoked, as the words left her mouth, that +she had not said "Miss Valeyon." But the question had surprised her out +of her presence of mind, and the necessity of speaking loud, if nothing +else, hindered her from making the correction. + +"Is the other any thing like you?" resumed he, after a moment's more +contemplation, which, spite of its directness, had in it a certain +element of unsophisticatedness that prevented it from seeming rude. + +"Who, Sophie?" exclaimed the young lady, bursting forth into an +unexpected gurgle of laughter, to which Bressant at once responded in +kind, though having no idea what the merriment was about. "I wish you +could see her! There couldn't be a greater difference if I was a negro!" + +The laugh died away in Bressant's eyes, and he pressed his hand rapidly +down over his face, as if to sharpen his wits, or clear away cobwebs. + +"That's natural," he remarked, reflectively. "I never saw any thing like +you." + +"If he'd said 'any _body_,'" thought Cornelia, "I should have said he +meant to compliment. How funny he is! just like a boy in some ways. I +believe I know more than he does, after all!" + +"Have you any sisters, Mr. Bressant?" asked she aloud, looking up at him +with more cordiality and confidence than she had yet felt or shown. + +"Not any. I should think it would be a good thing. Do you like it?" + +"Of course; but then I am a sister myself, so it don't apply," said +Cornelia, with the sunshine of another laugh. It was delightful to look +at her at such times; every part of her partook of the merriment, so +that her hands, feet, and waist, might all be said to laugh for +themselves. Cornelia could express a great deal more in a bodily than in +a spiritual way. Her material self, indeed, seemed so completely and +bounteously endowed as to leave little place or occasion for a soul. The +warm, rounded, fragrant, wholesome personality which met the eye, +satisfied it; the harmonious tumult of life, that thrilled in every +movement, was contentment to the other perceptions; the thought of a +soul, bringing with it that other of death, was cold and inconsistent. +Such mortal perfection loses its full effect, unless we can look upon it +as physically immortal: as soon as we begin to refine our ideas into the +abstract, we sully our enjoyment. + +"But your mother must have given you some idea of what a sister would +be," continued Cornelia, presently. + +"Would she? I wish I had one!" said the young man, unconscious that no +such desire had ever entered his head till now, and yet at a loss to +account for its presence. "Mine died more than twenty years ago," he +explained. + +"The poor boy! I believe he don't know what a woman is!" murmured +Cornelia to herself, perhaps not displeased at the reflection that it +lay with her to enlighten him. "No wonder he looked at me as if I were a +mammoth squash, or something. I'm going down in the garden to pluck a +tea-rose bud," added she aloud. "Won't you come?" + +"Yes," said Bressant, following her down the glistening granite steps +with an air of half-puzzled admiration. He liked his new sensations very +much, but knew not what to make of them; and so had a sense of +adventurous uncertainty, which was perhaps a pleasure in itself. + +Cornelia walked down the path in front of him, picking her dainty steps +to avoid stray spears of grass or weeds, and gathering up her light +skirts in one hand, out of the way of the bushes which leaned lovingly +forward to drop a tear upon her. At length she reached the tea-rose +bush, and paused there. Bressant came up and stood beside her. + +It was just dark enough to make the difference between a perfect and an +imperfect bud a matter of some doubt. Cornelia peeped cautiously about, +putting aside the wet twigs gingerly, and lifting up one flower after +another; desisting every once in a while to slap at the fine sting of a +mosquito on her arms or neck. + +"Oh! there's one that looks nice!" exclaimed she, disposing her drapery +to reach across the bush for a distant bud which looked in every respect +satisfactory. But Bressant saw it, and plucked it without effort, +drawing blood from his finger as he did so, however. He smelt it, and +looked from it to Cornelia, apparently trying to identify an idea. + +"Aren't you going to give me my bud?" demanded Miss Valeyon. "What's the +matter, sir?" + +"In some way it reminds me of you," replied he, giving it to her with a +shake of the head. "I don't see how, but it does!" + +Cornelia gave him a sharp side-look, to make out if he was sincere; but +his face at the moment was in shadow. + +"Perhaps because it pricked your finger," said she. + +She had not spoken loud, and was almost startled when his reply showed +he had heard her. There was again that expression of marvellous +efficiency and power in his face and bearing, but combined with one +partly doubt and partly shrewd scrutiny. + +"I plucked the bud all the same," he remarked. Cornelia, for some +reason, felt a little provoked and a little frightened. He wasn't +entirely unsophisticated after all; and she felt quite uncertain where +the ignorance ended and the knowledge began. She put the bud in her +hair, and they walked on, Bressant being now at her side, instead of +behind. The path was hardly wide enough for two, and now and then she +felt her shoulder touch his arm. Every time this happened, she fancied +her companion gave a kind of involuntary start, and looked around at her +with a quick, inquiring expression--fancied, for she did not meet his +look, being herself conscious of a sort of irregularity of the breath +and pulse attending these contacts, which she could not understand, and +did not feel altogether at ease about. Certainly, there was something +odd in this Bressant! Cornelia hardly knew whether he strongly repelled +or powerfully attracted her. She had half a mind to run back to the +house. + +At this moment, however, they arrived at the fountain, and stood +silently contemplating its weak, persistent struggles. The heavy rain +had not raised its spirits a whit; but neither had it lessened its sense +of duty to be performed. It labored just as hard if not harder than +ever. + +Presently Bressant walked round to the opposite side of the basin, shook +himself and stamped his feet, like one overcoming a feeling of +drowsiness, and then, stooping down, put his hand in the water and +brought some up to his forehead. It passed through Cornelia's mind that +she had read in her "Natural Philosophy," at school, that water was a +good conductor of electricity, but she could not establish any clear +connection between her remembrance of this fact and Bressant's action. +The results of thoughts often present themselves to us when the +processes remain invisible. + +"What an absurd little fountain!" observed he, coming round again to +Cornelia, and looking down upon her with a smile that seemed to call for +a responsive one from her. "What is the use of it?" + +"Oh, we're used to it, you know; and then that little sound it makes is +pleasant to listen to." + +"Is it?" said Bressant, apparently struck by the idea. "I should like to +hear it. 'A pleasant sound!' I never thought of a sound being pleasant." + +"Poor fellow!" thought Cornelia again, with a strong impulse of +compassion and kindliness. "What a dreary life, not even to know that +sounds were beautiful! I suppose all the voices he hears must be harsh +and unnatural, and those are the only kinds of sounds he would attend +to." Looking at him from this new point of view, the feeling of mistrust +and uncertainty of a few minutes before was forgotten. Standing near the +margin of the basin was a rustic bench fantastically made of curved and +knotted branches, the back and arms contrived in rude scroll-work, and +the seat made of round transverse pieces, through whose interstices the +rain-water had passed, leaving it comparatively dry. Cornelia sat down +upon it and motioned Bressant to take his place by her side. As he did +so, she could not help a slight thrill of dismay. He was so very big, +and took up so much room! + +Bressant sat looking straight before him, and said nothing. Stealing a +side-glance at him, Cornelia was possessed by an absurd fancy that he +was alarmed at his position. The idea of being able to scare such a +giant excited the young lady's risibilities so powerfully that she could +not contain herself, but, to her great horror, broke suddenly forth into +a warbling ecstasy of laughter. Bressant looked around, in great +surprise. It was an occasion for presence of mind. Something must be +done at once. + +"Hush! hold perfectly still! It was so absurd to see you sitting there, +and not knowing! There--now--still!" _Spat!_ + +A mosquito, which, after considerable reconnoitring, had settled upon +Bressant's broad hand, had sacrificed its life to rescue Cornelia from +her dilemma. + +Bressant felt the soft, warm fingers strike smartly, and then begin to +remove, cautiously and slowly, because the mosquito was possibly not +dead after all. What was the matter with the young man? His blood and +senses seemed to quiver and tingle with a sensation at once delicious +and confusing. In the same instant, he had seized the soft, warm fingers +in both his hands, and pressed them convulsively and almost fiercely. +Cornelia very naturally cried out, and sprang to her feet. Bressant, it +would seem not so naturally, did the same thing, and with the air of +being to the full as much astonished and startled as she. + +"What do you mean, sir? how dare you--?" she said, paling after her +first deep flush. + +He looked at her, and then at his own hand, on which the accommodating +mosquito was artistically flattened, and then at her again, with a +slight, interrogative frown. + +"How did it happen? What was it? I didn't mean it!" + +Cornelia was quite at a loss what to do or say under such extraordinary +circumstances. She felt short of breath and indignant; but she had never +heard of a young man's questioning a lady as to how he had come to take +a liberty with her. As she stood thus confounded, her unfortunate +perception of the ludicrous betrayed her once more; but this time her +recent shock played a part in it, and came very near producing a bad fit +of hysterics. Bressant looked on without a word or a motion. + +In less than a minute, for Cornelia's nerves were very strong, and had +never been overtaxed, she had regained command of herself. Bressant was +standing between her and the house, and she pointed up the path. + +"Please go home as quickly as possible." + +Off he walked, with every symptom of readiness and relief. Cornelia +followed after, but, when she reached the house, she found her papa +staring inquiringly out of his study-door; the uncanny pupil in divinity +had disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CORNELIA BEGINS TO UNDO A KNOT. + + +Bressant, to do him justice--for he was, on the whole, rather apt to be +polite than otherwise, in his way--entirely forgot the professor's +existence for the time being. He was too self-absorbed to think of other +people. He thought he was bewitched, and felt a strong and healthy +impulse to throw off the witchery before doing any thing else. He sprang +up the steps, across the balcony, traversed the hall with a quick tramp +that shook the house, snatched his hat from the old hat-tree, came down +upon the porch-step (which creaked in a paroxysm of reproach at his +unaccustomed weight), and, in another moment, stood outside the +Parsonage-gate, which, to save time, he had leaped, instead of opening. + +The road was white no longer, but brown and moist. The sky overhead was +deep purple, and full of stars. The air wafted about hither and thither +in little, cool, damp puffs, which were a luxury to inhale. Bressant +drew in two or three long lungfuls; then, setting his round straw hat +more firmly on his head, he leaned slightly forward, and launched +himself into a long, swinging run. + +To run gracefully and well is a rare accomplishment, for it demands a +particularly well-adjusted physical organization, great strength, and a +deep breath-reservoir. Bressant's body poised itself lightly between +the hips, and swayed slightly, but easily, from side to side at each +spring. The knees alternately caught the weight without swerving, and +shifted it, with an elastic toss, from one to the other. The feet came +down sharp and firm, and springily spurned the road in a rapid though +rhythmical succession. In a few moments, the turn around the spur of the +hill was reached, and the runner was well settled down to his pace. + +The stone-fences, the occasional apple-trees, the bushes and bits of +rock bordering the road, slipped by half seen. The full use of the eyes +was required for the path in front, rough as it was with loose stones, +and seamed with irregular ruts. Easy work enough, however, as long as it +remained level, and open to the starlight. But, some distance beyond, +there dipped a pretty abrupt slope, and here was need for care and +quickness. Sometimes a step fell short, or struck one side, to avoid a +stone, or lengthened out to overpass it. The whole body was thrown more +back, and the heels dug solidly into the earth, at each downward leap. +Here and there, where the incline was steeper, four or five foot-tramps +followed rapidly upon each other; and then, gathering himself up, with a +sudden, strong clutch, as it were, the young man continued on as before. +Thus the slope was left behind; and now began a low, long stretch, lying +between meadows, overshadowed by a bordering of willow-trees, and +studded with lengths of surreptitious puddles, for the ground was +clayey, and the rain was unabsorbed. As Bressant entered upon it, he +felt the cold moisture of the air meet his warm face refreshingly; he +was breathing deep and regularly, and now let himself out to a yet +swifter pace than before. + +The willow-trees started suddenly from the forward darkness, and +vanished past in a dusky twinkling. The road seemed drawn in swift, +smooth lines from beneath his feet, he moving as in a mighty treadmill. +The breeze softly smote his forehead, and whispered past his ears. Now +he rose lightly in the air over an unexpected puddle, striking the +farther side with feet together, and so on again. Twice or thrice, his +steps sounded hollowly over a plank bridging. At a distance, steadily +approaching, appeared the outlet, light against the dark willow setting. +When it was reached, ensued a rough acclivity, hard for knees and lungs, +winding upward for a considerable distance. Up the runner went, with +seemingly untired activity, and the stones and sand spurted from beneath +his ascending feet. The air became drier and warmer again as he mounted, +and the meadows slept beneath him in their clammy darkness. + +Near the brow of the hill stood a farm-house, black against the sky. +Bressant marked the light through the curtained window, dimly bringing +out a transverse strip of road; the pump standing over its trough with +uplifted arm and dangling cup; the rambling shed, with the wagon half +hidden beneath it; the barn, with blank windowless front, and shingled +roof. A dog barked sharply at him, as he echoed by, but inaudibly to +Bressant's ears. Presently a raised sidewalk divided off from the road, +affording a smoother course; the outlying houses of the village slipped +past one after another; a white picket-fence twittered indistinguishably +by. The runner was nearing the end of his journey, and now leaned a +little farther forward, and his feet fell in a quicker rhythm than ever. + +At the beginning of the village street stood the corner grocery; a +wooden awning in front, some men loafing at the door, who looked up as +the sound of Bressant's passing struck their ears; within, an indistinct +vision of barrels of produce, hams pendent from the dusky ceiling, some +brooms in a corner, and a big cheese upon the counter. Next succeeded +the series of adjoining shop-fronts, with their various windows, signs, +and styles; all wooden and clap-boarded, however, except the fire-engine +house, of red brick, with its wide central door and boarded slope to the +street. Bressant's steps echoed closely back from between the buildings; +once he clattered sharply over a stretch of brick sidewalk; once dodged +aside to avoid overrunning a dark-figured man. The village was left +behind; yonder stood the boarding-house, dimly white and irregular of +outline; he remembered it from the glimpse he had had in passing on his +way from the depot. In a few quick moments more he stood before the +door, glowing warm, from head to foot, drawing his deep breath easily, +his blood flowing in full, steady beats through heart and veins. He took +off his hat, passed his handkerchief over forehead and face, and then +pulled the tinkling door-bell. A fat Irish girl presently appeared, and +ushered him in with a stare and a grin, wiping her hands upon her apron. + +Meanwhile Cornelia, having said a few words to her father to excuse +Bressant's unceremonious departure--she refrained instinctively from +letting him know what had actually taken place--bade him good-night, and +went up-stairs with a more sober step than was her wont. She tapped at +Sophie's door, and stayed just long enough to make the necessary +arrangements for the night. Sophie, being drowsy, asked but few +questions, and received brief replies. When Cornelia reached her own +room, she closed the door with a feeling of relief. It had never been +her habit to fasten her door; but to-night, after advancing a few paces +into the chamber, she hesitated, turned back, and drew the bolt. Then, +having hastily pulled down the curtains, she seemed for the first time +to be free from a sensation of restraint. + +She walked up to the dressing-table, which was covered with a disorderly +medley of a young lady's toilet articles--comb and brush, a paper of +pins, ribbons, a brooch, little vase for rings, an open purse, a soiled +handkerchief--and began mechanically to undo her hair, and shake out the +braids. It was dark-brown hair, not soft and delicately fine like +Sophie's, but vigorous and crisp, each hair seeming to be distinct, and +yet harmonizing with the rest. As it was loosened and fell voluminously +spreading over her shoulders, she paused, resting against the table, and +looked at her face in the glass with critical earnestness. The candle, +standing at one side of the mirror, cast soft and deep shadows beneath +the darkly-defined eyebrows, and against the straight line of the nose, +and around the clear, short curves of the mouth and upper lip. The light +rested tenderly on her firm, oval cheeks, so deep-toned, yet pale, and +brought out an almost invisible dimple on each cheek-bone beneath the +eye, usually only to be distinguished when she laughed or smiled. The +forehead, so far as it could be seen beneath the hair, was smooth and +straight, neither high nor especially wide. The ears were small and +white, but rather too much cut away below to be in perfect proportion. +Over all seemed spread a mellow, rich, transparent, laughing medium, +that was better than beauty, and without which beauty would have seemed +cold and tame, or at least passionless. There was a delicate mystery in +the face, too, not conscious or self-woven, but of that impalpable and +involuntary sort which sometimes looks from the eyes of young unmarried +women, whose natures have developed sweetly and freely, without warping +or forcing. It has nothing to do with religion, nor with what we +commonly understand by spirit. It is not to be described or analyzed; +like the blue of heaven, it is the infinitely elusive property which is +the very secret and necessity of its existence. + +Cornelia looked searchingly at this face, and, though much of its +subtlest charm must necessarily have been lost upon her, she saw a great +deal that gave her pleasure. She had never been subjected to that +awakening but coarsening process which teaches a girl to call herself a +beauty; but there is a certain amount of instinctive perception, in +these matters, and she could not but know that what had virtue to +gratify her would not lack in effect over others. Nor was she in the +habit of taking stock of herself in the looking-glass; only to-night she +seemed to have an especial motive in making or renewing her own +acquaintance. + +At length she dropped her eyes, and, with nimble fingers and +swiftly-applied hair-pins, wound up her hair into its nocturnal knot. +She removed her ear-rings and rings, and put them into the vase; but +here reverie overtook her once more, and held her in a meditative +half-smile, until consciousness revived, and startled the blood into her +cheeks. She walked over to her little sofa, with dispatch and business +in her step, and sat down to unlace her boots. + +There is something in these little ever-recurring actions, +however--these things which we do so often as to do them +unconsciously--which predisposes to thought and reflection. Cornelia, +having untied the knot, had not got farther than the fourth hole from +the top, her eyes meanwhile wandering slowly around the picturesque but +rather disorderly little room, before she became dreamily interested in +watching the shadow of a neck-scarf she had hung upon the support of the +looking-glass, projected upon the wall by the flickering light of the +candle. As she looked, her fingers began to labor upon the boot-lace, +and her eyes grew gradually larger and darker. Occasionally there were +little quiverings of the upper and under lids, barely perceptible +movements of the tip of the nose and the nostrils, and twitching at the +mouth-corners. By-and-by the twitchings resolved themselves into a +smile, very faint and far away at first, but broadening and brightening +every moment; now, the dimples were visible at half a glance, and now, +upon the still air of the chamber, there rippled forth-- + +Cornelia put her hand to her mouth, and gave a quick, furtive glance +over her shoulder, as if in fear lest some one might have overheard her. +She recollected with some relief that the door was locked at any rate, +and the curtains down. But, for all that, as she realized what she had +been thinking about, and how very far her papa or Sophie would be from +laughing if they were told about it, she felt her cheeks tingle, and +could not be busy enough with that boot-lace! + +There! that was off; now for the other. What a queer man he was, though! +Could all that have been put on in the garden--pretending he didn't +know! (This was such a tiresome old knot!) If she only hadn't been such +a goose and laughed--what must he think? What could have been the reason +he rushed off in such a hurry? Probably was afraid she'd tell papa, and +then he couldn't be his pupil. Suppose she should tell! that would be +mean, though. Perhaps he didn't intend it, after all. He seemed nice in +some ways, though he was so queer. Very likely it was only a sort of +spasm--an electric, magnetic thing--she had heard of something of the +sort. Yes, and she had felt funny herself that evening--a numb, quivery, +prickly kind of sensation: it may have been the thunder-storm! It was +strange, though; she never remembered to have felt it before. She +wondered whether Mr. Bressant ever had. Perhaps deaf people were more +subject to it. What a pity he should be deaf! It made it so awfully +embarrassing to talk to him sometimes. It must be dreadful for them to +be in love with anybody. Imagine having to talk in that way to a deaf +person! or being-- + +This time it was the candle which took upon itself the task of warning +and censorship. It flickered, flared, gasped, and went out. It was a +very pathetic, and, it is to be hoped, effective way of remonstrance. +But the last thing seen of Cornelia, she was sitting on the sofa, +leaning carelessly forward, one hand holding her curved, little, booted +foot, the knot still untied, her eyes fixed dreamily on nothing, the +half-smile flickering on her lips, and the womanly contours of her +figure doubtfully lighted and darkly shaded by the uncertain +candle-light. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +PROFESSOR VALEYON MAKES A CALL. + + +The morning following Bressant's arrival was clear and cool. Professor +Valeyon looked out of the window of his bedroom, which was at the +garden-end of the house, and opposite Cornelia's, and saw the cold, +white mists lying in the valley, and the rough hills, like islands, +lifting their dark shoulders above it. + +As he looked, the sun, having climbed a few inches above the eastern +uplands, let a bright glance fall right upon the open spot at the summit +of the professor's favorite hill. A few minutes afterward he poured a +golden flood into the valley, carrying consternation to the delaying +vapors, insomuch that they straightway put themselves into commotion +preparatory to departure. No spare time was allowed them; some were +bundled off into the dark gullies and passes of the hills; others betook +themselves hastily to that side of the valley which was yet in shadow, +to sleep a few moments beyond the legitimate time; others still, finding +escape impossible, rose heavenward like a mighty incense, and were by +the sun converted into something wellnigh as glorious as himself. + +"Good simile for a sermon, that! turning persecution into a means of +glorification!" thought the professor, recurring to the days of his +pastorship. + +As may be inferred, the old gentleman was in the habit of getting up +early; a praiseworthy practice, but one so universal with elderly people +as to suggest a doubt of its being entirely a voluntary virtue. Be that +as it may, the professor was up, and proceeded to set his blood in +motion over a wash-bowl. His toilet was not so intricate and serious a +matter as it might have been forty years or so previous, but was +nevertheless a duty most scrupulously and conscientiously performed, +from June to December, and round again. The last thing attended to +before putting on his coat was always carefully to brush and dispose his +hair. Until within two or three years, he had been able to keep up +appearances by coaxing a gray rift across the top of the bald place; but +it had grown month by month thinner and grayer, and more difficult to +keep in position, until at last he had bravely told himself it was a +vanity and a delusion, and had consigned it to obscurity and oblivion +among the rusty side-locks which still sturdily surrounded the naked and +inaccessible summit. Since that time he had occasionally allowed his +thoughts to revert to it regretfully, though not bitterly nor +rebelliously. + +But, on this particular morning, he stood, brush in hand, before his +looking-glass with an expression upon his elderly features at once +undecided, wistful, and shame-faced; detached, after a short search, a +few frosty spears from the assortment at the left side of his head; +scrutinized them anxiously for a moment, and then, by the aid of a +little water, and cautious brushing and pulling, succeeded in spatting +them down into their long-abandoned place. + +"I'm an old fool, that's certain!" muttered he, as, after a final +surreptitious sort of glance at the unaccustomed embellishment, he +turned away. "But then I don't go out calling every day!" + +He slipped on his coat, opened his door, and descended the stairs with +his usual solid deliberation. As he emerged upon the balcony, the +sunshine had just lighted up the tree-tops in the garden, but a little +nest of white mist still rested upon the fountain, whose indefatigably +small gabble could be heard proceeding mysteriously from the centre +thereof. A few large, thin mosquitoes, cold and portentously hungry from +their all-night's fast, came swooping at the professor with shrieks of +dismal tenuity, intending to get a warm breakfast out of him. But he had +had large experience in dealing with such gentry, and, so far from +standing treat, he slew several and threw the rest into confusion. + +"And now," said he to himself, as he descended the steps, "I'll take a +look at Dolly; Michael hasn't let out Lady Bountiful or the hens yet, I +suspect." + +The barn lay in a separate enclosure to the west of the garden; it was a +primitive structure enough, but had been refitted within so as to afford +accommodation for the family steed and the cow. The former, Dolly, was a +well-preserved bay, neatly put together, and, had the professor been so +inclined, she might have become a celebrity in her day. As it was, she +had seen no more stirring duty than to convey her owner to and from +church, during the years of his ministrations there; to draw the plow +and the hay-cart occasionally, and to gallop over the rough country +roads beneath the side-saddle, for the benefit of Cornelia or Sophie. +She was at this time about fifteen years old, but still retained much +of the spirit of her best days, and not unfrequently gave the professor +some pains to keep her within bounds. + +He threw open the barn-door, and forth upon the crisp air floated the +close, sweet smell of hay and cow's breath. Some swallows twittered and +glanced up near the dark roof, as smart and wide-awake as if they had +not just been startled out of bed. The sun, shining through the cracks +and knot-holes into the dusky interior, drew lines of dusty light across +the darkness. A hen, that had escaped from the coop and got up into the +hay-loft to lay an egg, set up a strongly-remonstrative cackle against +being disturbed in so interesting a proceeding. Lady Bountiful lowed +argumentatively, and Dolly stamped, wagged her head knowingly up and +down, and then shook it with a whinny. The professor patted her neck and +smoothed down her nose. + +"Need some exercise, don't you, old girl?" quoth he, looking pleasantly +upon her. "All right! we'll go down-town after breakfast. Yes! we'll +make a call on Abbie." So saying, he pulled down some fresh hay, and +left her to champ it; then, picking his way across the uneven floor to +where the white and horned countenance of Lady Bountiful was thrust +through the bars of her stall, he slipped her halter and let her out +into the meadow. Having examined the wagon, to make sure it was in +proper order, he concluded his labors by throwing open the hen-coop, out +of which immediately hastened a troop of indignant and astonished fowls, +led by a rooster, who seemed always to be vacillating between +insufferable masculine arrogance and an effeminate curiosity and +avarice. + +By the time Professor Valeyon had remounted the granite steps, he was +quite ready to do justice to his breakfast. Cornelia came singing +down-stairs, with a full-blown tea-rose in her hair, and looking as if +she had already breakfasted upon the greater part of the day's sunshine. +She reported Sophie to be awake and comfortable, so the gentleman +climbed up-stairs and shuffled into her peaceful, rose-colored room to +give her a morning kiss. The Lord's Prayer glowed forth as brightly from +the wall as if it had been pronounced for the first time that day. + +"Well, heard all about my new pupil from Cornelia, I suppose?" said +papa, when the kiss had been given, sitting down by the bedside, and +holding his daughter's pale, slender hand in his own. + +"He who came last evening? No, I've not seen Neelie to speak to her, +since he was here. What is he to be taught?" + +"Wants to be a minister," replied the professor, rubbing his beard. +"Shall do what I can for him, because he's the son of a former friend, +now dead. I'm afraid he won't do, though. Needs a good deal besides +Hebrew and history." + +"But you can give him all he does need, papa," rejoined Sophie, with +serene faith in the old gentleman's infallibility. + +"I don't know," returned he, his eyes resting upon the Lord's Prayer. "I +don't know," he repeated, turning them to his daughter's transparent +face, which seemed almost an incarnation of the divine words. "I think, +my dear, that you could put some ideas into his head that would do him +more good than any thing I can give him;" and he smiled gravely upon +her. + +"All right, papa," said Sophie, gayly, with a tender kindling of her +soft, gray eyes. "Nothing could make me happier than to do good to +somebody. As soon as I get well enough, I'll take him under my charge." + +Her manner was playful, but there was a vibration in her tone which +caught the professor's ear, and conveyed to him the idea that there was +an unseen depth of yearning and passionate desire to be something more +than an invalid, selfish and helpless, during her earthly life; an +inheritance, perhaps, of the apostolic spirit which had played a not +inconsiderable part in the history of his own life. And surely, he may +have thought, there never was human being better qualified than she to +inspire to high and pure simplicity of life and thought, were it merely +by the example of her own. And would it not be a strange and beautiful +thing, if this beloved daughter of his should be the means of turning to +worthier and truer ambitions a man whom, of all others, he had reason to +wish honored and respected among mankind! It was a very alluring +thought, and the professor quite lost himself for a few moments in the +contemplation of it. He did not reflect, and Sophie could not know, that +there might be danger in the prosecution of such a scheme; for, all the +knowledge which a young girl like her can have or impart, must find its +ultimate origin in the heart. But then, again, the matter had taken no +definite or practical shape in his mind as yet, and things which in the +abstract may wear an appearance of being highly desirable often put on +quite a different look when presented in concrete form. This would be +especially the case with a man like Professor Valeyon, who was half a +dreamer, and half a practical, common-sensible individual. With Sophie, +however, whose whole life was necessarily a tissue of delicate and +high-wrought theories, there was no safeguard of the kind to be relied +upon. + +No more conversation was had upon the subject at that time. The +professor went down to his breakfast, and, having disposed of it with +good appetite, and smoked his morning-pipe with quiet satisfaction, +Michael brought Dolly and the wagon round to the front door, the old +gentleman clambered in, and off they rattled to Abbie's boarding-house. + +This "Abbie," as she was called in the village--indeed, not more than +one in a hundred knew her other name--had long been an institution among +the townspeople. When she first became a resident was uncertain: some +said more, some less than twenty years ago. Certain it was, at all +events, that she had grown, during her sojourn there, from a young and +comely, though sober-faced woman, to considerably more than middle age; +though time had perhaps used her less kindly than most women in her +situation in life, which is saying a good deal. No one could tell where +she came from, or what her previous life had been. She had first made +her appearance as purchaser of the house in which she had ever since +lived, and kept boarders. She was uncommunicative, without seeming +offensively reserved; quietly tenacious of her rights, though far from +grasping or aggressive, and was endowed with decided executive ability. +She had made a most unexceptionable landlady; one or two of her +boarders had been with her almost since the inception of her enterprise; +while all the better class of transient visitors to the village, which +had a moderate popularity as a summer resort, made their first +application for rooms to her. + +Some ten or twelve years after her establishment, Professor Valeyon and +his family had moved into town. They had not taken up their quarters at +Abbie's, though she could easily have accommodated them, as far as room +went; a circumstance which caused all the more surprise in some +quarters, because there seemed to have been some previous acquaintance +between herself and the professor. But Abbie was even less talkative +upon this than upon other subjects; and no one ventured to catechise the +grave and forcible-looking man who was the only other source of possible +information. After a time, he settled in the house which subsequently +became the parsonage; and, since no particular relations were kept up +between his family and the boarding-house keeper, curiosity and comment +died a natural death, and it even came to be doubted whether they ever +had met each other before, after all. + +Abbie, at the present time, was a taciturn personage, neither tall nor +short, stout nor thin. Her eyebrows were straight and strongly marked, +and much darker than her hair, which, indeed, had begun to turn gray +several years before. There was nothing especially noticeable in her +other features, except that the lips were habitually compressed, and the +chin so square-cut and firm as to be almost masculine. A good many +little wrinkles could be traced around the mouth, and at the corners of +the eyes, especially when she was much depressed; and sometimes her +expression was very hard and stern. Her manners were quite +undemonstrative; they seemed to be neither fastidious nor the reverse, +and it would have been hard to predicate from them in what station of +life she had been brought up. She certainly adapted herself well to +whatever society she happened to be with; neither patricians nor +plebeians found any thing to criticise; but, whether this were the +result of tact, or owing merely to the adoption of a negative standard, +no one could say. In language she was uniformly correct, without seeming +at all scholastic; she occasionally used the idioms and dialectic +peculiarities of those around her, though never with the air of being +heedlessly betrayed into them. + +On the whole, therefore, the boarding-house keeper remained a problem or +a commonplace, according to the fancy of the observer. In any case, she +had grown to be a necessity, if not a popular element, in the village +society. It was in her large, rambling rooms that all the grand parties +and social celebrations took place. Was a picnic or other +pleasure-expedition in prospect, Abbie's experience and managing ability +were depended on for its success. She it was who arranged the details of +weddings; and her assistance was almost as necessary a condition of a +legitimate funeral, as that of Death himself! + +Professor Valeyon drove up to the door in his wagon, got down with all +the care that the successful support of his burden of years demanded, +and chained Dolly to the much-gnawed post which was fixed for the +purpose on the edge of the sidewalk. He ascended the steps, and was met +by Abbie on the threshold. He removed his hat with old-fashioned +courtesy, and gave her cold hand a quiet, warm grasp. + +"Good-morning, Abbie," said he, gruffly, but cheerfully, and with a very +kind look out of his deep-set old eyes. "Is all well with you this +morning?" + +"Yes," replied she, with a faint smile, that seemed to show more of +weariness than merriment. "Come into the boudoir, Professor Valeyon. +You're a stranger." + +"But that's going to be remedied--that's going to be remedied!" rejoined +the old gentleman, seating himself, and allowing his hand to wander to +the top of his head, to make sure the hair-swathe was safely in +position. "Bond of union been established between us, you know." + +Abbie laid her finger upon her under lip--a common act of hers when +interested or absorbed--and looked at her caller inquiringly. + +"That young fellow that came last night, sent his trunk up before coming +himself. Saw him, didn't you?" + +Abbie shook her head. "I saw his trunk, but not him. Mr. Bressant, I +think. You know him?" + +"He's going to study divinity with me. I take some interest in him, +though he's in an unsatisfactory condition just now; intellectual +savagery, I should call it. I take it, his training has been at fault. +Seems to have no social nor affectionate instincts. It would be a good +thing to make him feel their value, to begin with." + +"I'll make it as home-like for him as I can, Professor Valeyon." + +"Well, well! I meant to ask you to do it. It'll be a new experience for +him. He's never known a mother since he was a baby, and his father +was--well!"--the old man checked himself--"his father is just dead." He +seemed about to add something more in regard to the deceased gentleman, +but forbore, glancing narrowly at Abbie, who looked only grave and +thoughtful. + +"How old is he? A boy?" she asked, presently. + +"Boyish in some ways, but must be twenty-five or six, and looks older. A +tall fellow, well made." + +"He might still be a son of mine," said Abbie, with another dim smile, +and a sigh. "Perhaps it would do me no harm to consider him as such. +Would that satisfy you?" + +"Just what I want!" exclaimed the professor heartily, and with +heightened color. "Something can be made of him, I think," he added; +"but a great deal depends on the sort of treatment he eats and sleeps +under. Well, you be motherly to him, Abbie. That's all I have to ask. +You will find good in it for yourself, too, as you say: more than you +think, very likely." + +She sighed again, playing absently with her fingers upon her +dark-colored dress, and gazing out of the window. Professor Valeyon said +no more on the subject of Bressant, but spoke of Cornelia's proposed +trip, and the Fourth-of-July party, and Sophie's convalescence; and +finally took his straw-hat from the table upon which he had placed it, +and moved toward the door. + +"Good-by, Abbie. Remember"--the old gentleman paused, with her hand in +his, and glowing upon her from beneath his bushy eyebrows; "remember you +have friends about you who don't need to be sought after. And another +thing, Abbie; if you should ever find that Time has the power to +liberate as well as to imprison you, don't forget that some wants may +exist a long while without finding expression, but that they do exist, +for all that!" + +Perhaps it was the consciousness that he was using rather grandiloquent +language in the wording of this enigmatical little speech, that caused +the good professor to look so red and embarrassed. Abbie drew her hand +away, and laid her finger on her lip. + +"Can you still say that?" asked she, with a sad kind of gleam in her +eyes and voice. + +"More than ever--more than ever!" declared he, with emphatic +incoherence. And without more words he hurried down the steps, and in +another minute was rattling rapidly homeward, astonishing Dolly herself +by the speed which he encouraged her to put forth. + +"It'll all work round," soliloquized he; "very good beginning this. If I +could have spoken more explicitly--but she'll be prepared, and that's a +great step toward clearing things up. Gee up! Dolly." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +GREAT EXPECTATIONS. + + +"Sophie," said Cornelia, several days afterward, "do you know, I believe +I'll stay for that party at Abbie's, after all." + +The two sisters were engaged in planning out an evening dress, and +Sophie's bed was so covered with the confusion thereof, that her quiet +little face, appearing above, looked odd by contrast. + +"I'm glad," replied she, with the simplicity and lack of ornamentation +that made her words forcible; "and I'm sure Abbie will be glad, too." + +"There's no reason why I shouldn't, you know," resumed the elder sister, +falling into that pleasing vein of argument wherein we consciously +express the views of our interlocutor; "a few days won't make any +difference to Aunt Margaret, and I wouldn't like to have poor old Abbie +think that I slighted her, just because I am going to enter New York +society! Besides, I think this dress will look very nice when it's +finished--don't you?" + +"Yes, dear," said Sophie, smiling to herself. "Is Mr. Bressant going to +the party?" + +"Oh, I don't know. No, I should suppose not. He's a great student, you +know, and is going to be a minister and every thing. That isn't the sort +of people that takes interest in parties. Besides, he couldn't hear the +music, so, of course, he couldn't dance." + +"Some deaf people can hear music, and even compose it." + +"Can they? But then just imagine having to talk to a deaf person in a +ballroom! it would be awfully embarrassing, don't you think so?" + +Sophie, who knew her sister well, and was very shrewd besides, began to +suspect that it would not be displeasing to Cornelia to be opposed, and +even out-argued upon the question of Mr. Bressant's probable attendance +at the party, and qualifications to make himself agreeable when there. +She enjoyed the amusement, in Her demure way, and was besides interested +to hear something about her father's pupil. + +"I should think," said she, in a modestly suggestive manner, keeping her +eyes busy with her work, "that it would be less embarrassing at a party +than anywhere. You know everybody expects to say and hear nothing but +nonsense, and there isn't a great deal said even of that. And you're +obliged to talk loud, at any rate, on account of the music and noise." + +"Well, you may be right," admitted Cornelia, who certainly did take her +sister's opposition with admirable good-nature. "And I was thinking, +Sophie, perhaps if they are not very deaf indeed, you know they might +get so used to the sound of one's voice as to hear it even when it +wasn't so much raised." + +"Why, certainly!" assented Sophie; "to some kinds of voices, at any +rate; probably to a woman's more easily than to a man's. Is Mr. Bressant +very deaf, Neelie?" + +Cornelia glanced quickly at her sister, but was reassured by the grave +composure of her aspect. Nevertheless, she was deeply engrossed in her +new dress as she made reply. + +"Oh! no. Well, not so very; I can hardly tell, though, I've spoken to +him so little. He's rather quick at catching your meaning, sometimes, I +think." + +"Do you think he's a man who would get married?" + +"Oh! I don't believe he'll ever be married," said Cornelia, and blushed, +she scarce knew why. "No woman would marry him." + +"Is he so disagreeable?" + +Cornelia moved her shoulders in a little shudder. "Oh, not that exactly; +but he's so cold and bright and hard. And he isn't always that way, +either. There are times when he's so strange--so different! I don't +believe he understands himself then. There seems to be a wild fire in +him, that once in a while blazes up, and scorches and frightens him as +well as other people." + +Sophie was perhaps more interested in this extravaganza of Cornelia's +than if she had known the incident upon which it was mainly founded; +but, on the other hand, it is possible that less exaggerated language +would not have given her so correct an idea of Bressant's character. +Cornelia--there being nothing else to especially occupy her +thoughts--had allowed them to run a good deal upon Bressant, and upon +what happened by the fountain in the garden: perhaps she had mingled the +real things and events with the fantasies of her dreams, and thus built +up an impression and theory in regard to the young man considerably more +picturesque than was warranted by the premises at her command. All this +would have been done involuntarily; and possibly Sophie's question +elicited the first conscious perception and statement of what Cornelia's +opinion had grown to be. But unconscious judgments are often more +accurate than deliberate ones because there is more of intuition about +them. + +Be that as it may, from the moment Sophie imbibed the idea that there +was something strange, fierce, and ungovernable in Bressant's nature, +she felt her sympathy and interest moved and aroused. It was the +instinctive attraction of one strong spirit toward another, the more, +because that other was so differently embodied, endowed, and +circumstanced. She was a bed-ridden invalid, but she thrilled, like +Achilles, at the first gleam and clangor of arms. The only thing that +Sophie feared, and from which she shrank, was Sin. All else attracted +her in proportion as it was powerful, stirring, or awe-inspiring. +Delicate, sensitive, and apparently meek and timid as was her nature, +her heart was firm as a Roman general's, and her soul as large and +sympathetic as an Apostle's. Did the occasion offer, this pale +minister's daughter was capable of great and immortal deeds. + +"Which way do you like him best, Neelie?" demanded she at length, +removing the dilated gaze of her gray eyes from the round knot on the +top of the bed-post; "when he's cold and bright, or when he's wild and +fiery." + +"Oh! I don't like him at all!" exclaimed Cornelia, shuddering again. + +Lest she should be suspected of a wilful misstatement, it may be as +well to show how it might happen that she should deceive herself in the +matter. Such likes and dislikes as she had heretofore felt could one and +all have been paraphrased as a more or less agreeable state of mind, +induced by the sight or thought of such and such an individual. She had +never conceived the possibility that a vital affection could take its +origin in aversion and fear, and grow strong through turmoil, passion, +and suffering. As a matter of course, she estimated her feeling toward +Bressant by the only gauge she had, and with no reference to the fact +that it was a wholly inadequate one. + +The majority of the impressions she had received of him could not +certainly be called pleasant; and that he was continually in her +thoughts; that every thing she heard or saw connected itself, in one way +or another, with him; that he bore a possible part in many of her +imaginations of the future--these were factors she did not take into +account, because ignorant of their significance. The conclusion that she +did not like him was therefore a legitimate one, according to the light +she had. + +Whatever Sophie may have thought of Cornelia's answer, she said no more, +but lay in reverie, opening and shutting her scissors in an objectless +manner, until Cornelia's voice flowed forth again. + +"Isn't it a pity he wasn't a nice, jolly, society fellow? it would have +been such fun this winter! As it is, I don't suppose we shall be able to +do so much even as if we were alone." + +"From something papa said the other day, I think he'd like to try and +make Mr. Bressant more of a society fellow; perhaps it would wear away +that coldness and hardness you speak of." + +"What I teach him the arts and pleasures of fashionable life?" exclaimed +Cornelia, laughing. "Dear me! I'd no more think of trying to teach that +great big thing any thing than--any thing!" + +"But you can make him go to Abbie's party, if you are to be there +yourself, and then, if you don't want to instruct him, you can give him +to some one who isn't afraid of him, and--have Bill Reynolds all to +yourself." + +Cornelia laughed and pouted, and told Sophie she was mean; but probably +felt it a relief to have poor Bill's name introduced, he being so +palpably _hors de combat_. + +"It would be pretty good fun, after all--walking round on the arm of +that great, tall, broad-shouldered creature, and telling him how to +behave! I believe I _will_ try it!" and she straightened herself up with +a very valiant air. + +"It will be your last chance, remember!" said Sophie, looking up with a +deep smile in her eyes. "I promised papa that when I was well I'd take +charge of Mr. Bressant myself!" + +Sophie's life, as has been said, was preeminently an ideal one. +Materialism disturbed and perplexed her, and she ignored it as much as +possible. She was inspired and excited by the ideal she had conceived of +Bressant, and of her sphere of action with regard to him. But, had the +physical personality of the man been thrust upon her in the first place, +she would have very likely recoiled, her finer intuitions would have +been jarred, and their precision paralyzed. Standing aloof, however, +living and acting only in the realm of her pure maiden creeds, every +thing seemed clear and simple enough. Right should be done, and wrong be +righted; there would be no material conditions or hinderances; results +were attained immediately. + +But life is not what the pure-hearted girl painted it in her ideal +dreams. The unconsidered obstacles rise into frowning and insurmountable +barriers. Those we would make our beneficiaries often fail to appreciate +their position, and turn our good into a worse evil than their own. We +may theorize about the human soul, but, to put our theories to the test, +is to assume an awful responsibility. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE DAGUERROTYPE. + + +Bressant occupied two adjoining rooms at Abbie's boarding-house; one +contained his bed and the other was fitted up as his study. They were on +the second floor of the house, and attainable through two turns in the +lower entry, a winding flight of narrow stairs, and an uncertain, darkly +erratic route above. + +The study was some twelve feet by eight; the floor ornamented by a +carpet which, to judge from the size of the pattern, must have been +designed to grace some fifty-foot drawing-room. The furniture consisted +of a deal table with a folding leaf, a chair, a stove--which, perhaps +because it was so small, had been permitted to remain all summer--and a +broad-seated lounge with squeaky springs, but quite roomy and +comfortable, which monopolized a large portion of the room. The walls +were papered with a bewildering diamond pattern, in blue and white. Upon +the outside window-sill stood a pot of geraniums, and another of +heliotrope. + +A good many books were stowed away in various parts of the study; piled +one upon another in the corner by the stove, ranged side by side beneath +the lounge, carefully disposed upon the inner window-sill, and occupying +as much space as could be spared to them on the table. There were few +ornaments to be seen; no landscapes or hunting-scenes--no pictures of +pretty women--no fancy pieces for the mantel--no wine either, nor +cigars, for Bressant neither smoked nor drank. A beautifully-finished +and colored drawing of a patent derrick, in plan and side elevation, was +pinned to the wall opposite the window. Above the mantel-piece hung an +ingeniously-contrived card almanac, by which the day of week and month +could be told for a hundred years to come. Two small globes, terrestrial +and astronomical, stood upon the table; on the mantel-piece was an +ordinary kerosene-lamp, with a conical shade of enamelled green paper, +arabesqued in black, and ornamented with three transparencies, +representing (when the lamp was lighted) bloody and fiery scenes in the +late war; but in the daytime appearing to be nothing more terrible than +plain pieces of white tissue-paper. + +For two weeks Bressant had done his studying and thinking in this room. +He had enormous powers of application, naturally and by acquisition, and +the first fortnight had seen them exerted to their full extent. This +diligence, however, was practised not so much because the course of +study marked out necessitated it, as by way of voluntary +self-discipline. His first evening's experience in the Parsonage garden +had given the young man a serious shock; a disturbing influence had +obtained possession of him, of which he could understand no more than +that it appeared to have some connection with Cornelia. It interfered, +at unexpected moments, with his processes of thought; it distracted his +schemes of argument; it wrote itself unintelligibly upon the page he was +reading. It even followed him in his rough tramps up the hills and +through the woods, and sometimes shook the hand which held the pen +during his compositions. + +Bressant knew not how best to combat his novel difficulty. Although +called into existence by an extraneous circumstance, it seemed to have +struck root in every faculty of his mind, and, what was more, into the +inmost core of every faculty. He was possessed, not by seven devils, but +by one devil in seven different forms. He felt that the only thing to be +done, if he did not intend to make an entire surrender of himself, was +to take stern and rigorous measures for deliverance. The best course +that suggested itself was to study his sevenfold devil down; taking +every precaution, of course, to keep out of the way of all additional +contamination; and this course he adopted, and had conscientiously +adhered to. It was with very pardonable satisfaction that he felt his +malady gradually and surely give way before his unsparing regimen, until +by the first of July he considered himself entirely whole and in working +order, and beyond danger of relapse. + +He sometimes wondered why the professor persisted in inviting him to +take dinner, or stay to tea, or sit on the balcony in the evening, or go +on a picnic into the woods. Why couldn't the old gentleman divine the +cause of his invariable and unhesitating refusals? Leaving other +considerations out of the question, would such things be likely to +increase his knowledge of theology, or further the lofty schemes of his +ambition? He would be glad when that daughter left the house! What was +it about her that had so disturbed and beclouded the heretofore +untroubled stream? Were other women like her, or was she alone in her +dangerous capacity? If the first, with what assurance could he look +forward to the intellectual mastery of the world! If the last, what a +refinement of misfortune to have been so thrown with her! What if he +should give up Professor Valeyon altogether? No, no! if he could not +conquer his destiny here, he could not be sure of doing it anywhere. Let +him only be self-controlled and prudent--keep carefully and +systematically out of the woman's way. Or perhaps--for it was not +gratifying or dignified thus to live in terror of a minister's +daughter--perhaps he might ultimately learn to associate and hold +intercourse with her, unharmed. That would be a triumph worth striving +for! Indeed, how could he feel secure until it had been won? Again, did +there at present exist any such risk as he had brought himself to +imagine? Was not this first ordeal, and its effects, all that was to be +apprehended? What if all his anxiety, and self-control, and prudence, +had been wasting themselves upon nothing? Would it not be worth while to +try the experiment? to prove whether he was still liable to this strange +witchery and enchantment? even if so it should turn out, it was still +well that the point should be settled once for all. Decided, then, that +he should take the first opportunity to put himself to the test. + +Thus did the young man argue around his instinct, ignorant that the +poison was at that moment circulating in his blood, and prompting the +very sophistries that his brain produced. He who is cured begets a +wholesome aversion toward what has harmed him; he feels no curiosity to +prove whether or no he be yet open to mischief from it. Bressant's +poison was in fact an elixir, whose delicious intoxication he had +experienced once, and which his whole nature secretly but urgently +craved to taste again. + +A result somewhat similar to this was doubtless what Professor Valeyon +aimed at in his plan of developing the emotional and affectional +elements of his pupil, albeit he was far from imagining what might be +the cost and risk to every thing which he himself held most dear. Like +many other men, of otherwise liberal mind and clear insight into +character, he had certain convictions and principles, derived from +contemplating the facts and results of his own life, which he believed +must produce upon other people's mental and moral constitutions as good +an effect as upon his own. And possibly, could we divest our regimen of +life of all personal flavor and conformation, it might, other things +being favorable, suit our friends very tolerably well. But, until we are +able to throw off the fetters of our own individuality, the measure of +our garments can never accurately fit anybody else. + +On the morning of the 1st of July, Bressant sat at his table, with his +books and papers about him. He was in an excellent humor, for he had +just arrived at the conclusion that he might, and would, safely +encounter his bugbear Cornelia. If the professor invited him to tea, and +to spend the evening, he was resolved to accept; and, at that moment, he +felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and, turning quickly round, +recognized the sombre figure of the boarding-house keeper. + +Although he had lived with her two weeks, he had not as yet had other +than the briefest communication with her. He probably thought ho had in +hand many matters of more importance than the cultivation of his +landlady's acquaintance; and she, whatever may have been her desire to +carry out the promise she had made to the professor, had not found it +possible to be other than indirectly observant of his welfare. + +"I knocked, Mr. Bressant, but I couldn't make you hear. I came to ask +you to do me a little favor, sir." + +Bressant had risen to his feet, and stood leaning against the back of +his chair. He nodded and smiled good-naturedly, his hand busy with his +beard, and his eyes taking in, with mild curiosity, the plain and +plainly-dressed woman before him. What favor could she expect him to do +for her? He'd just as lief agree to any thing that wouldn't interfere in +any way with his arrangements. Of course, she wouldn't ask any thing +more. As long as he paid his board-bill, and created no disturbance, +what obligations did he owe her? + +"You see, sir," proceeded Abbie, gently rattling the bunch of keys that +hung at her belt, "we've been in the habit of giving a party here, three +or four times a year, for the young folks to come and dance and enjoy +themselves. There will be one next Thursday, the 4th of July. Will you +come down, and join in?" + +Bressant threw back his head, with one of his brief laughs. "Come to a +dance? But I don't know how to dance! I never go into society. What +should I do? Thank you for asking me!" + +"I thought you might be interested to look on at one of our country +hops," said Abbie, whose eyes observed the young man's manner, as he +spoke, with a closeness that would have embarrassed most men. "There's a +good deal to amuse yourself with besides dancing. The school-master will +be there, and the minister that is now, and Professor Valeyon." + +"Professor Valeyon?" repeated Bressant, leaning forward, with his hand +to his ear, and the vivid, questioning expression on his face, which was +peculiar to himself. + +The movement appeared to produce a disproportionate effect upon Abbie. +Her finger tremblingly sought her under lip; a quiver, as if from a +sudden pain, passed across her forehead; there was a momentary +unsteadiness in her eyes, and then they fastened, almost rigidly, upon +the young man's face. So habitual was the woman's self-control, however, +that these symptoms, whatever they betokened, were repressed and +annulled, till none, save a particularly sharp-sighted person, would +have noticed them. Bressant was thinking only of Professor Valeyon, and +would scarcely have troubled himself, in any case, about the neuralgic +spasms of his landlady. + +"The professor and Miss Valeyon will both come," said Abbie, as soon as +the neuralgia, if that it were, would allow her to speak. "Excuse me, +sir--may I sit down a moment?" These words were uttered hurriedly, and, +at the same moment, the woman made a sudden step to the lounge, and +dropped down upon it so abruptly that the venerable springs creaked +again. + +"Beg your pardon, ma'am," said Bressant, rather awkwardly. "Must be an +infirm old person," he added to himself. "She looks older, even, than +when she came in!" + +"Well, sir," said she, with rather a constrained air, rising, from the +sofa in a way that confirmed the young man's opinion about her +infirmity; "well, sir, shall I expect you on Thursday evening?" + +"Yes; I'll come," said he, with an elastic inclination of his shoulders, +and a smile. He thought himself fortunate in so good an opportunity to +put his invulnerability to the proof. + +Abbie bowed without speaking, and moved toward the door. Having opened +it, she turned round, with her hands upon the latch: "Professor Valeyon +tells me you're an orphan, sir?" + +"My father died last month; I never knew my mother," returned Bressant, +pushing his brown beard between his teeth, and biting it impatiently. He +wished people would get through asking him about his deceased relatives. + +"Never knew your mother! it must have been--have you never felt the need +of her?" + +"Oh, no! I was better without one," said he, quite provoked at his +landlady's pertinacity. He turned about, and threw himself into his +chair. The woman shrank back beyond the threshold. + +"Good-day, sir, and thank you," she said. But Bressant could not be +expected to hear the low, timid tone in which she spoke. Seeing that he +made no response, she softly closed the door. + +She went along the dark entry to her own room. On a little table in one +corner stood an old-fashioned desk. She opened it, and, unlocking an +inner drawer, took therefrom a small morocco case, lined with red +velvet, and containing a daguerreotype much faded by age. She studied it +long and earnestly, but seemingly without any very satisfactory result. + +"But how can I expect it?" murmured she. "So long ago as this was +taken! so sickly and unformed as he was then! But, oh! did they think I +could be blind to that face, and form, and expression! and there is none +other but he, now; the father is dead. Dead! Well, may God forgive him +all the evil of his life! I'm sure I do. But what will this turn out to +be, I wonder--a curse or a blessing? I must wait--it isn't for me to +speak; I must wait, and the end may be happy, after all." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +ONLY FOR TO-NIGHT! + + +On the evening of the 4th of July, Professor Valeyon and Cornelia got +into the wagon, and drove off, behind Dolly, to the boarding-house. It +was a warm, breathless night, and the stars looked brighter and more +numerous than usual. + +The boarding-house was one of the largest buildings in town--an +accidental sort of structure, painted white, green-blinded, and +protected, from the two roads at whose intersection it stood, by a +white-washed board-fence, deficient in several places. The house +expanded into no less than four large bay-windows, affording an outlook +to three small rooms upon the ground-floor. The four or five other +larger apartments were forced to pass a gloomy existence behind a +loop-hole or two apiece, which could not have measured over three feet +in any direction. + +The two largest rooms lay corner to corner, at right angles to one +another, and communicating by a passage-way through their point of +contact. Who the original genius was who discovered the admirable +facilities this else preposterous arrangement afforded for dances will +remain forever unknown; but the experiment once tried became an +institution as permanent as Abbie herself. + +The small triangle of space between the two rooms, which to utilize had +theretofore been an unsolved problem, served admirably as a station for +the band; they could be heard in either apartment equally well. The +small boudoirs, nooks, and corners, which were scattered here and there +with lavish hand, did excellent duty as flirtation-boxes for those of +the dancers who needed that refreshment; the only drawback being that +one was never quite sure of privacy, on account of the complicated +system of doors and entries that prevailed. + +But, in spite of all objections, a dance at Abbie's was the rallying-cry +of the community. All the respectable people in town put on their newest +clothes--and if they were new it did not so much matter what the style +might be--and thronged, on foot or in wagon, to the boarding-house door. +They came to have a good time, and they always succeeded in their +object. What pigeon-wings were performed! what polkas perpetrated! what +waltzes wrecked! How the long lines of the Virginia Reel, or "On the +Road to Boston," extended through the hall from end to end, and how the +couples twisted, whirled, and scooted between them! How the call-man, +with his violin under his chin, stopped playing to vociferate his +orders, or anathematize some bewildered pair! How the old folks, sitting +on chairs and benches along the walls, nodded and smiled and mumbled to +one another as the ruddy faces of their descendants passed and repassed +before them, and spoke to one another of like scenes thirty, or forty, +or fifty years ago! How happy everybody was, and what a jolly noise they +made! + +As Cornelia and her papa approached the house, every window was alight, +above and below. The door was thrown hospitably open, and the lamplight +streamed forth and ran down the steps, and lay in a long rectangular +pool upon the road. Abbie stood near the entrance, directing the ladies +one way and the gentlemen another. Punctuality at an affair of this kind +being among the village virtues, the whole company was present within a +surprisingly short time of the appointed hour. + +"Good-evening, Professor Valeyon; good-evening, my dear; how well-you +look! Step up-stairs--the first room on the right." + +"My pupil is to be here to-night, isn't he?" inquired the professor, as +his daughter vanished. + +"Yes, he said he'd be down. He doesn't seem to be used to society. Miss +Cornelia told me she thought it would do him good to begin, so I went up +the other day and asked him." + +"Oh! humph!" said the old gentleman, who had vainly endeavored to catch +Abbie's eye while she was speaking. He stood silent a few moments, and +then moved off to the gentlemen's dressing-room, taking a pair of +white-kid gloves from his pocket as he went. + +Cornelia, having removed her hood, put on her slippers, shaken out her +skirt, touched her hair with the tips of her gloved fingers, and settled +the ribbon at her throat, descended to the reception-room--as that part +of the entrance-hall where Abbie stood was styled--and found her papa +awaiting her. She was about to take his arm, when the hostess touched +her on the shoulder. + +"Wait a moment," said she, with a peculiar grave smile; "I'll bring you +your _protege_." + +Bressant was standing in the door-way of an inner room, leaning with the +elbow of one arm in the hand of the other, as he pulled at his mustache +and twisted the beard on his chin. He looked ill at ease, and as if he +rather regretted his intrepidity in coming down. Had he been what is +called a student of human nature, he might have been interested in the +quaint people and customs which an occasion like this would bring to +light. But he believed that all the traits and elements of mankind at +large were comprised, in a superior form, within himself, and that, +knowing himself, he would virtually know the world. This somewhat +exclusive creed had, doubtless, been aided and abetted by his deafness, +which, even had he been otherwise inclined by nature, must have thrown +him back, in great measure, upon himself; or, possibly, the dogma may +have been but an outgrowth of the physical defect: he fights hard and +well, in this world, who counteracts the bias given by bodily infirmity. +In any case, however, since such was the position of his mind, he could +scarcely be expected to derive much entertainment from a social occasion +like the present. It is even uncertain whether he would not actually +have repented and taken to flight, had not Abbie come up at the critical +moment, and carried him off to Cornelia. + +"I wanted to have the pleasure of presenting Mr. Bressant to you +myself," said she, with the same peculiar smile; and so left them +together. + +The young man stood confronting the young woman, who, besides being +dressed with great taste, looked, owing to the whimsical circumstances +in which she was placed, every bit of beauty she had. Bressant stared +at her in astonishment. + +One woman's beauty cannot be contrasted with another's; as well compare +a summer valley with the white clouds sailing over it; each is to be +enjoyed in its own way. But Cornelia's loveliness carried with it a +peculiar quality, which not only gratified the eye, but went further, +and seemed to touch a vital chord in the beholder, jarring throughout +his being with a sweet distribution of effect, and causing heart and +voice to vibrate. It made Bressant conscious in every fibre that he was +man and she woman. Whence came the influence he could not tell, and +meanwhile it gained ever stronger and deeper hold upon him. Was it from +the eyes, a-sparkle with the essence of youth and health? or from the +mouth, with its red warmth of full yet delicate curves? the gates of +what sweetness of breath! or from the crisp, dark, lustreless luxuriance +of the hair? or from the curved shadows melting on the cheeks, and +nestling beneath the chin? He could trace it to no single one of these +various elements--yet how lovely all were! Whence, then, was it? In a +bottle of wine there are many drops, alike in color, shape, flavor, and +sparkle; in which one, of all, lurks the intoxication? The only way to +make sure of the drop is to drink the bottle; and, even then, though +there will be no doubt about the intoxication, its precise origin may +still be disputed. + +As Bressant bowed to Cornelia, who courtesied grandly in return, the +band struck up a waltz, which seemed to be at once reflected in her face +and manner. She was particularly sensitive to musical impressions, and +instinctively looked up to Bressant's face for sympathy, forgetting at +the moment that his infirmity would probably debar him from sharing her +enjoyment. However that might be, he was certainly not indifferent to +the silent music of her beauty; he was gazing down upon her with an +intensity which caused her to droop her eyes, and draw an uneven breath +or two. There was in him all a man's fire, strangely mingled with the +freshness of a boy. + +"Take my arm," said he, offering it to her. After an instant's +hesitation, more mental, however, than physical, she laid her graceful +hand within it, and they moved toward the dancing-room. + +But at the instant of contact an electric pulsation seemed to pass +through Cornelia's blood, imbuing it with a powerful ichor, alien to +herself, yet whose potency was delicious to her. She fancied, also, that +she herself went out in the same way to her companion, establishing a +magnetic interchange of personalities, so that each felt and shared the +other's thoughts and emotions. + +They now stood in the principal dancing-hall, where several couples, who +had already taken the floor, were revolving with various degrees of +awkwardness. The music had flowed into Cornelia's ears until she was +full of the rhythmical harmony. She glanced up once more at her partner, +this time with a lustrous look of confidence. Was it possible that he +had become inspired through her? Certainly it seemed as if the feeling +of the tune were discernible in his face as well as hers; it was even +betokened by the lightsome pose of his figure, and a scarcely subdued +buoyancy in his step. Moment by moment did the occult sympathy between +one another and the cadence of the music grow more assured and complete; +and at length--though precisely how it came about neither Cornelia nor +Bressant could have told--they were conscious of floating through the +room, mutually supporting and leading on each other, mind and motion +pulsating with the beat of the tune, amid a bright, half-seen chaos of +lights, faces, and forms, dancing a waltz! + +Neither felt any surprise at what, but a few moments before, both would +have deemed an impossibility. The easy, whirling sweep of the motion, +not ending nor beginning, seemed, to Bressant as well as to Cornelia, +the most natural thing in the world. Beautifully as she danced, he was +no whit her inferior. They moved in complete accord. Years of practice +could not have made the harmony more perfect. + +The charm of dancing, although nothing is easier than to experience it, +is something that eludes statement. It is the language of the body, +graceful and significant. It has that in it which will make it live and +be loved so long as men and women exist as such. The fascination of the +motion, the magic of the music, the hour, the lights; the nearness, the +touch of hands, the leaning, the support, the starting off in fresh +bewilderments; the trilling down the gamut of the hall; the pauses and +recommencements; even the little incidents of collision and escape; the +trips, slips, and quick recoveries; the breathless words whispered in +the ear, and the laughter; the dropped handkerchief, the crushed fan, +the faithless hair-pin--these, and a thousand more such small elements, +make dancing imperishable. + +Presently--and it might have been after a minute or an hour, for all +they could have told--Bressant and Cornelia awoke to a sense of four +bare walls, papered with a pattern of abominable regularity, a floor of +rough and unwaxed boards, a panting crowd of country girls and bumpkins. +The music had ceased, and nothing remained in its place save a fiddle, a +harp, and an inferior piano. + +"Come out to the door!" said Bressant, "the air here is not fit for us +to breathe." + +They went, Cornelia leaning on his arm, silent; their minds inactive, +conscious only of a pleasant, dreamy feeling of magnetic communion. Both +felt impelled to keep together--to be in contact; the mere thought of +separation would have made them shudder. + +The door stood open, and they emerged through it on to the wooden steps. +At first their eyes, dazzled by the noisy glare of the house, could +distinguish nothing in the silent darkness without. But, by-and-by, a +singular gentle radiance began to diffuse itself through the soft night +air, as if a new moon had all at once arisen. They looked first at each +other, and then upward at the sky. Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, +and caught her breath. + +From the north had uprisen a column of light, of about the apparent +breadth of the Milky Way, but far more brilliant, and defined clearly at +the edges. Higher and higher it rose, until it reached the zenith. +Pausing a moment there, it then began to slide and lengthen down the +southern slope of the sky, lower and lower, till its extreme limit +seemed to mingle with the haze on the horizon. Having thus completed its +stupendous sweep, it remained, brightening and paling by turns, for +several minutes. Finally, it slowly and imperceptibly faded away, +vanishing first at the loftiest point of all, and lingering downward on +either side, till all was gone. + +"What a glorious arch!" exclaimed Cornelia. + +"It was put there for us, was it not?" rejoined Bressant. + +Some of the other guests had come out in time to see the latter part of +this spectacle, as it trembled athwart the heavens. They "Oh'd" and +"Ah'd" in vast astonishment and admiration; and one of them humorously +asserted that it had been engaged, at a huge expense, to celebrate the +anniversary of American Independence. So the celestial arch vanished in +the echo of a horse-laugh. But Bressant and Cornelia, as they stood +silently arm-in-arm, felt as if it were rather the presage of an +emancipation of their own selves. From, or to what, they did not ask; +nor did the old superstition, that such signs foretell ruin and +disaster, recur to their minds until long afterward. + +Dancing was now recommenced, but, by an unuttered agreement, the two +refrained from participating again. The enjoyment had been too entire to +risk a repetition. They sat down in one of the small boudoirs, which, +through a demoralized corridor, commanded a view of the extremity of one +of the dancing-rooms. + +From this vantage-ground they could see the distinctive features of the +assembly pass before their eyes. Girls who danced well striving to look +graceful in the arms of men who danced ill, or floundering women +bringing disgrace and misery upon embracing men. Dancers of the old +school, whose forte lay in quadrilles and contra-dances, cutting strange +capers, with faces of earnest gravity. People smiling whenever spoken +to, and without hearing what was said; and on-lookers smiling, by a sort +of photographic process, at fun in which they had no concern. +Introductions, where the lady was self-possessed and bewitching, the +gentleman monosyllabic and poker-like; others, where he was off-hand, +ogling, and facetious; she, timid, credulous, and blushing. All kinds of +costumes, from the solitary dress-coat, and low-necked ball-dress, worn +respectively by Mr. and Mrs. Van Brueck from Albany, to the mixed tweed +sack and trousers, and the checked gingham, adorning the Browne boy and +girl. + +"How foolish it all seems when you're not doing it yourself!" remarked +Cornelia at last, laughing softly. + +"But very wise when you are." + +"How beautifully you danced! I didn't know you could." + +"I never did before--I couldn't, with any one but you. As soon as we +touched each other, I felt every thing through you." + +"It was very strange, wasn't it? and yet I don't wonder at it, somehow." + +"It would have been stranger not to have been so." + +"Why, how have you been hearing what I said?" suddenly exclaimed +Cornelia, looking at him in surprise; "I've been almost whispering all +this time!" + +"Have you? It sounded loud enough to me. But I could hear you think +to-night, I believe. Will it be so to-morrow, do you suppose?" + +"To-morrow!" repeated Cornelia. "Dear me! to-morrow is my last day +here." + +"The last day!" echoed Bressant, in a tone of dismay. "Shall we find one +another the same as to-night when you come back?" + +"Why not?" responded she, with a resumption of cheerfulness. "I sha'n't +be gone but three months." + +So the conversation lingered along, until gradually the greater part of +it was supported by Bressant, while Cornelia sat quiet and listened--a +thing she had never done before. But the young man's way of expressing +himself was picturesque and piquant, keeping the attention thoroughly +awake. His ideas and topics were original. He plunged into the midst of +a subject and talked backward and forward at the same time, yet conveyed +a marvelously clear idea of his meaning. Sometimes the last word was the +key-note that rendered the whole intelligible. And he had the bearing of +a man all unaccustomed to deal with women--ignorant of the traditional +arts of entertainment which society practises upon itself. He talked to +Cornelia as he might have done to a man, and yet his manner showed a +subtle difference--a lack of assurance--a treading in a pleasant garden +with fear of trespassing--the recognition of the woman. To Cornelia it +had the effect of the most soothing and delicious flattery; had he been +as worldly-wise as other men, he could not have been so delicate. + +He, for his part, gave himself wholly up to be fascinated and absorbed +by the lovely woman at his side. Did a thought of danger intrude, the +whisper, "Only for to-night, only for to-night!" sufficed to banish it. +Yet another day, and he would return to the old life once more. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +EVERY LITTLE COUNTS. + + +Mr. William Reynolds arrived late, perhaps because he delayed too long +over the niceties of his toilet. He was a country young man, fashioned +upon a well-worn last. His occupation for several years past had been to +attend to the furnishing and driving of a milk-cart, and, very likely, +it was this which had hindered the proper development of his figure. At +all events, he was stoutest where it is generally thought advisable to +be lean, and narrow where popular prejudice demands breadth. His knees +were more conspicuous than his legs, and his elbows than his arms. His +face was striking, chiefly because an accident in early life had +prostrated his nose; the expression, though lacking force, was in the +main good-natured, the eyes were modestly veiled behind a pair of +eye-glasses, which stayed on, as it were, by accident. + +Mr. Reynolds was an admirer of Cornelia's; a fact which was the occasion +of much pleasant remark and easy witticism. More serious consequences +were not likely to ensue, for such men as he seldom attain to be other +than indirectly useful or mildly obnoxious to their fellow-creatures. +But the strongest instincts he had were social; and it was touching to +observe the earnestness with which they urged him to lumber the path of +fashion and gay life. He nearly broke his own heart, and unseated his +instructor's reason, in his efforts to learn dancing; and, to secure +elegant apparel for Sundays and parties, he would forswear the butcher's +wagon for months at a time. Once in a while he would smoke an Havana +cigar from the assortment to be found at the grocery-store on the +corner, and sometimes, when a national holiday or the gloom of +unrequited love rendered strong measures a necessity, he would become +recklessly convivial over muddy whisky-and-water amid the spittoons and +colored prints of the hotel bar-room. + +On the present evening he arrived late, and came upon Cornelia and +Bressant just as the latter was proposing to obtain the professor's +consent to accompanying her home on foot. + +Mr. Reynolds advanced, smiling; a polka was being played at the moment, +and he playfully contorted his figure and balanced his head from side to +side in time with the tune, while with his right forefinger he beckoned +winningly to Miss Valeyon to join him in the dance. Bressant gave an +involuntary shudder of disgust; it seemed to him a grisly caricature of +the inspiration he himself had felt at the beginning of the evening. But +Cornelia was equal to the emergency. + +"If you'll go and ask papa now," said she, "I'll take care of this +person meantime. He's known me so long, I don't want to be impolite to +him." + +A good deal of harm may be done in this world by what is called a +reluctance to be uncivil. There is generally more selfishness than +consideration about it. All sincere admiration, no matter from how low a +source, is grateful to us. Cornelia knew that Bill Reynolds worshipped +her with his whole small capacity, and she was unwilling to deny herself +the miserable little incense, and give him plainly to understand that, +though it was not distasteful to her, he was. And who could blame her +for not wanting to hurt his feelings? + +Bressant had no such delicate scruples, and would gladly have assisted +poor Bill through the open bow-window. He departed on his errand, +however, with nothing more than a look of intense dissatisfaction, which +was entirely lost upon the infatuated Reynolds. + +"How lovely you do look to-night, Miss Valeyon! I almost think sometimes +it ain't fair anybody should look as lovely as you do. Elegant music +they've got to-night, ain't it? Come, now--just one turn. What?" + +Cornelia actually had danced with this young gentleman on one or two +memorable occasions in the past, but was scarcely in the mood to do so +this evening. As she looked at him, now, she wondered how she ever had. +What a difference there is in men I and even more in the way we regard +them at different times. Bressant, simply by being himself, had +annihilated all such small claims to social life as Bill Reynolds ever +possessed. + +"I'm not dancing to-night, thank you," said Cornelia; but she smiled so +as wellnigh to heal the wound her words inflicted. "What makes you so +late?" + +Now, the fact was that Mr. Reynolds had been weak enough to allow +himself to be drawn into conversation with some friends near the +entrance of the hotel possessing the bar-room with the spittoons and +colored prints already alluded to; and, being the Fourth of July, which, +like many other days, comes but once a year, and a "dry night," as his +friends assured him, he had further given evidence of lack of stamina by +accepting an invitation to "take a damp," When he had finally succeeded +in making his escape, he was conscious that it was in a tolerably damp +condition; and it had occurred to him, as a brilliant idea, to put his +head beneath the pump by way of freshening up his wits. The effect had +been, for the moment, undoubtedly clarifying, and he made his entrance +into Abbie's with a great deal of confidence; more, perhaps, than was +entirely warrantable; for the muddy whisky was still circulating in his +blood, and the light, the close, hot air, and the excitement +within-doors, were rapidly undoing the good work which the pump had +accomplished. It was probably a dim suspicion that such was the case, +which made him hesitate, and stick his hands in his pockets, and screw +his boot-heel into the floor, when Cornelia asked him why he was so +late. But the question had been asked in pure idleness, and not with any +interest or purpose to elicit a reply. The next minute she relieved him +from his embarrassment by speaking again. + +"Would you mind doing me a favor, Bill?" + +It seemed to Bill that, for the sake of hearing his Christian name from +her lips, he would be willing to forswear all else that made life most +dear--Havana cigars and muddy whisky included; and he was proceeding +with impressive gravity to make a statement to that effect, when +Cornelia once more interrupted him. + +"Thank you; I was sure you would. You're always so kind! You see I'm +obliged to go home now, but papa will want to stay to supper, probably, +or to play backgammon, and, of course, I shall leave him the wagon. +Now, I want you to promise to see that Dolly is properly harnessed +before he starts--will you? You know that man they have here isn't +always quite sober, especially when it's Fourth of July, or any thing of +that sort; and papa is getting old." + +"Yes, Miss Valeyon. I'll attend to it. I'll fix the old gentleman up, +like he was my own father. And you're just right about that fellow +that's around here; _I_ wouldn't trust him. Why--" Bill was on the point +of mentioning that he had made one of the convivial party that evening, +but checked himself in time, and looked particularly profound. + +Cornelia had probably had more than one motive in making her request of +Bill Reynolds. She wanted to avoid being urged to dance, by keeping his +mind otherwise employed; she enjoyed the amusement of making him imagine +that he was of some consequence and importance to her; and, lastly, she +was very willing that all this should concur with some possible benefit +to her father. Of Bill's irresponsible condition she had of course no +suspicion; indeed, he might have been far worse, with impunity, as far +as she was concerned. It takes considerable practice to detect the +effects of liquor, except when very excessive; and Cornelia had no such +training. + +"And," added she, as she saw Bressant making his way toward her, with +unmistakable signs on his face of having been successful in his errand, +"and suppose you go now, and find out when papa leaves, so as to be sure +to be on hand." + +It was very neatly managed, on the whole; and Cornelia, as she put on +her shoes, and drew the hood around her face, congratulated herself on +her tact and readiness. Yet she felt a little uneasiness, assignable to +no particular cause, and upon no definite subject; it may have been +nothing more than some slight qualms of conscience at having so deluded +her unfortunate admirer. As she came down from the ladies' +dressing-room, she felt a strong impulse to go and kiss her papa +good-by; but reflecting that Bill would probably be with him, and that +she would see him at any rate before she went to bed, she thought better +of it; and, taking Bressant's arm--he was waiting her at the foot of the +stairs--she signified her readiness to start. + +"When did papa say he was coming?" asked she, as they moved through the +passage-way to the door. + +"He was playing backgammon; he said he should be through in ten minutes; +he would probably overtake us before we got to the Parsonage," replied +the young man. + +"I hope he'll be all safe!" said Cornelia, half to herself, the vague +feeling of uneasiness still working within her. + +At the door they were met by Abbie, who bade them good-night, with the +same expression upon her lips and in her eyes that she had worn when +presenting them to one another early in the evening. + +"Take good care of each other, my children," said she, as they passed +out; but her tone was so low as to be audible to Cornelia alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +DOLLY ACTS AN IMPORTANT PART. + + +The faintest of breezes wafted in the young people's faces as they +descended the wooden steps of the boarding-house and passed along the +dark, deserted sidewalk of the village street. The noisy dance was soon +left at a distance; how extravagant and unnatural it seemed in +comparison with the deep, sweet night in which they were losing +themselves! + +The brightness of the stars, and the wavering peaks and jagged edges of +the northern lights, brought out the shadows of the uneven hills, and +revealed the winding length of downy mist which kept the stream in the +valley warm. Such was the stillness, and the subdued tone of the +landscape, that it seemed unreal--the phantom of a world which had lost +its sunshine, and was mourning for it in gentle melancholy. + +The sense of the solitude around them brought the young man and woman +closer to one another. For enjoyment to be, mortally speaking, perfect, +it needs that a soft and dreamy element of sadness should be added to +it; and this was given by the gracious influence of the night. The +darkness, too, encouraged the germs of that mutual reliance, +hopefulness, and trust, which combine to build up the more vital and +profound relations of life. There is a magic mystery and power in it, +which we can laugh at in the sunshine, but whose reality, at times, +forces itself upon us mightily. + +As Bressant trod onward, with the warm and lovely woman living and +moving at his side, and clinging to his arm with a dainty pressure, just +perceptible enough to make him wish it were a little closer--it entered +his mind to marvel at the tender change that seemed to have come over +familiar things. + +"I've walked often in the night, before," observed he, looking around +him, and then at Cornelia; "on the same road, too; but it never made me +feel as now. It is beautiful." He used the word with a doubtful +intonation, as if unaccustomed to it, and not quite sure whether he were +applying it correctly. + +"You speak as if you didn't know what you were talking about!" said +Cornelia, with a round, melodious laugh. "Did you never see or care for +any thing beautiful before this evening?" + +"You remember that night in the garden?" asked Bressant, abruptly. "I've +learned a great deal since then. I couldn't understand it at the moment; +I wasn't prepared for it--understand? but I know now--it was beauty--I +saw it and felt it--and it drove me out of myself." + +Cornelia was thrilled, half with fear and half with delight. Bressant +spoke with an almost fierce sincerity and earnestness of conviction, +that quite overbore the shield of playful incredulity which woman +instinctively raises on such occasions; they seemed to have crossed, at +one step, the pale of conventionalities; and, sweet and alluring as the +outer wilderness may be, it is wilderness still, and full of sudden +precipices. Besides, the very energy and impetuosity which the young man +showed, suggested the apprehension that the power of his newly-awakened +emotions was greater than his ability to control and manage them. + +But beauty, as he understood it, was something of deeper and wider +significance than that generally accepted. It was all, in mankind and +nature, that appeals to and gratifies the senses and sensuous emotions. +Cornelia had been the door through which he had passed into a +consciousness of its existence; the fragrant pass leading to the mighty +valley. Unfortunately neither he nor she was in a position to comprehend +this fact: she was no metaphysical casuist, and never imagined but that +he would find the end, as well as the beginning of his newly-opened +world in her; and he, dizzied by the tumult and novelty of the vision, +was naturally disposed to attribute most value and importance to the +only element in it of which he had as yet taken any real and definite +cognizance. + +"What a strange, one-sided life you must have had!" Cornelia remarked, +after they had walked a little way in silence. "Don't you think you'll +be happier for having found the other side out?" + +Bressant started, and did not immediately reply. Thus far he had looked +upon this unexpected enlargement of feeling as merely a temporary +episode, after all; not any thing permanently to affect the +predetermined course and conduct of his life. The idea that it was to +round out and perfect his existence--that he was to find his highest +happiness in it--had never for a moment occurred to him. He did not +believe it possible that it could coexist with lofty aims and strenuous +effort; it was a weakness--a delicious one--but still a weakness, and +ultimately to be trampled under foot. + +But Cornelia had taken the ground that it was the half of life--not only +that, but the better and more desirable half. For the first time it +dawned upon the young man, that he might be obliged to decide between +following out the high and ascetic ambition which had guided his life +thus far, and abandoning, or at least lowering it, to take in that other +part of which Cornelia was the incarnation. The prospect drove the blood +to his heart and left him pale. He would not entertain it yet. Had he +not promised himself to let this one night go by? + +"It would be a very sweet happiness, if I were sure of finding it," said +he; and Cornelia, turning this answer over in her foolish heart, made a +great deal out of it, and was thankful for the darkness that veiled her +face. But Bressant was hardly far advanced enough in the art of +affection to make a graceful use of double meanings; and most likely +Cornelia might have spared herself the blush. + +Nevertheless, the young man was more deeply involved than he suspected. +That magnetic sympathy could not otherwise have existed between him and +his companion. The music could not have sounded through her sense to +his, nor her whisper have penetrated the barrier of his infirmity, +unless something akin to love had been the interpreter and guide; and +not a one-sided something, either. + +On they walked, with the feeling of intimacy and mutual contentment +growing stronger at every moment. The ground was full of ruts and +inequalities, and ever and anon a misstep or an overbalance would cause +them involuntarily to tighten their hold upon each other; +involuntarily, but with a secret sensation of pleasure that made them +hope there were more rough places farther on. They did their best to +keep up a desultory conversation, perhaps, because they wished to spare +each other the embarrassment which silence would have caused, in leaving +the pleasant condition of affairs without a veil. When this kind of +thing first begins to be realized between young people, the enjoyment +takes on a more delicate flavor from a pretended ignoring of it. + +It is beautiful to imagine them thus placed in a situation to which both +were strangers, knowing not what new delight the next moment might bring +forth. There was an element of childlikeness and innocence about it, the +more pleasing to behold in proportion as they were elevated in mind or +organization above the average of mankind. + +A woman who loves thinks first of the man who has her heart; while he, +as a general rule, is primarily concerned with himself. If Bressant +wished Cornelia to be happy and loving, it was in order that he himself +might thereby be incited to greater love and happiness; but, had her +pleasure been, independent of his own, he would not have troubled +himself about it. To her, on the other hand, Bressant's well-being would +have been paramount to her own, and to be preserved, if need were, at +its sacrifice. + +Even a perception, on her part, of this selfishness in him, would not +have alienated her. Selfishness in him she loves does not chill, but +augments, a woman's affection. Cornelia, already inclined to allow her +companion every thing, would have seen nothing unbecoming in his being +of the same mind himself. He could scarcely value himself so high as +she. + +Meanwhile Professor Valeyon, having won his game of backgammon, hunted +up his hat, made his adieux, and went to the shed for his wagon. He +perceived a figure apparently busy in buckling Dolly between the shafts, +and, supposing it to be the ostler, called to him to know whether every +thing was ready. + +"All serene, Profess'r Valeyon," responded the voice of Mr. Reynolds, as +he led Dolly--who seemed rather restive--out into the yard. "Here you +are, all fixed! I done it for you, in style. Jump in, and I'll give you +the reins." + +"Is this the reason you were asking me what time I should start, Bill?" +inquired the old gentleman, as he mounted to his seat. "Very kind of +you: sure she's all right?" + +"Well, I ought to know something about harnessing a mare by this time, I +guess!" responded Bill, with a good deal of dignity, as he handed up the +reins. "Well, well I no doubt--no doubt! I'm accustomed to oversee it +myself, that's all.--Steady, Dolly! Good-night." + +"Good-night, Profess'r Valeyon," said Bill, who, in harnessing the mare +had managed, with intoxicated ingenuity, so to twist one of the buckles +of the head-gear, that every time the reins were tightened, the sharp +tongue was driven in under her jaw-bone. The wagon rattled off at an +unusual speed; there was no need for a whip, and the professor +congratulated himself upon the fine condition of his steed. + +"Hasn't shown such speed for years," muttered he, admiringly. "If I'd +only been a horse-jockey, now, I could have made a fortune out of her! +Points all superb--only wants a little training." + +They had now descended the hill on which stood the village, and were +flying along the level stretch between the willow-trees. The wheels +crunched swiftly and smoothly along the ruts, or, striking sharply +against a stone, made the old wagon bounce and creak. Dolly was putting +her best foot foremost, and her ears were laid back close to her head: +though that, by reason of the darkness, Professor Valeyon could not see. +He and Dolly had travelled this road in company so often, however, and +every turn and dip was so well known to him, that it never would have +occurred to him to feel any anxiety. Beyond keeping a firm hold of the +reins, he let the mare have her own way. + +In a few minutes the willow stretch was passed, and they began to +stretch with vigorous swing up the slope. Dolly's haunches were visible, +working below in the darkness, and occasionally a spark of fire was +struck from the rock by her hoof. Really she was doing well to-night. As +they topped the brow of the slope, the professor tightened the reins a +little. It wouldn't do to let the old mare overwork herself. But, +instead of slackening her pace, she sprang forward more swiftly than +ever. + +"That's odd!" murmured the old gentleman. "Can any thing be the matter, +I wonder?" and he gave another steady pull on the reins. The wagon was +jerked forward with such a wrench as almost to throw him backward. There +was no doubt that something was the matter, now. + +By this time they were within a quarter of a mile of the Parsonage, and +rapidly approaching the sharp bend around the rocky spur of the hill. +Dolly's skimming hind-legs spurned the road faster and faster, and the +fences flickered by in a terrible hurry. They whisked around the curve +with a sharp, grating sound of the wheels on the rock, and the Parsonage +lay but a short distance ahead. Suddenly a white object seemed to rise +out of the road not more than a hundred yards in advance. Dolly, with +the bit caught vigorously between her teeth, stretched her neck and head +out and ran. Professor Valeyon, bracing himself with his feet against +the dash-board, leaned back with his whole weight and sawed the reins +right and left. When within a few yards of the white object--which +seemed to have fluttered back to one side of the road--his right rein +broke: he lost his balance and fell over backward into the bottom of the +waggon, while Dolly, quite unrestrained, dashed on madly. + +The professor had just made up his mind that he stood very little chance +of seeing Abbie or his daughters again, when he felt the onward rush +suddenly modified. There were a pawing and snorting, an irregular jerk +or two, and then a dead stop. The old gentleman picked himself up and +descended to the ground uninjured beyond a few slight bruises. + +Cornelia and Bressant had been pacing the latter part of their way +slowly, there being a disinclination on both their parts to come to the +end of it. But they had passed the bend, and were within a few rods of +the Parsonage, before Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, paused, +listened, and said: + +"I think I hear him coming: yes! that's Dolly--but how fast she's +going!" + +As they stood, arm-in-arm, Bressant was between Cornelia and the +approaching vehicle: but, when it swung around the corner, she stepped +forward, thus bringing her white dress suddenly into view. At the same +moment the velocity of the wagon was much increased, and, as it came +upon them, both saw the figure on the seat, easily recognizable as the +professor, fall over backward. Bressant, who had been busy freeing the +guard of his watch, handed it to Cornelia, at the same time pressing her +back to one side. He then stepped forward in silence, half facing up the +road. + +Cornelia remained motionless, her hands drawn up beneath her chin: and +while she drew a single trembling breath, and the busy watch ticked away +five seconds, the whole act passed before her eyes. She saw Bressant +standing, lightly erect, near the centre of the road, could discern his +darkly-clad, well-knit figure, seemingly gigantic in the gloom: his head +turned toward the on-rushing mare, one foot a little advanced, his arms +partly raised, and bent: remarked what a marvelous mingling of grace and +power was in his form and bearing: as the watch ticked again, she saw +him spring forward and upward, grasping and dragging down both reins in +his hands: another tick--he was dashed against Dolly's shoulder, and his +body swung around along the shaft, but without loosening his hold upon +the reins: tick, tick, tick, the mare's headway was slackened; the +dragging at the bit of that great weight was more than she could carry; +tick, tick, tick, she staggered on a few paces, trailing Bressant along +the road; tick, tick, she came to a panting, trembling stand-still; +Bressant let go the reins, but, instead of rising to his feet, he +dropped loosely to the earth and lay there; tick--the five seconds were +up, and Cornelia drew her second breath. + +By the time the professor had scrambled out of the wagon and got around +to the scene of action, he found the mysterious white figure--his own +daughter--kneeling in the road beside a prostrate something he knew must +be Bressant. + +"Father, is he dead?" she asked, in a broken, horror-stricken voice. + +The old gentleman was too much concerned to reply. Had this been a +narrower nature he might have been aggrieved at Cornelia's ignoring his +own late deadly peril in her anxiety for the young man. But he would +have done her wrong; her heart had stood still for him till she had seen +his safety assured; then it had gone out in gratitude, admiration, and +tender solicitude, for the man who had shown unfaltering and desperate +determination in saving him. + +Having backed Dolly--who was standing, quite subdued, with hanging head +and heaving sides--away from the body, Professor Valeyon stooped down to +make an examination. He had begun life as a surgeon, and was well +skilled in the science. He cautiously unbuttoned the closely-fitting +coat. + +"Stop! let me alone! let me alone!--will you?" growled Bressant, +speaking thickly and disjointedly, like one just recovering from a +fainting-fit, but with unmistakable signs of ill-temper. + +"Thank God! you're alive, my boy," said the professor, too much relieved +to notice the tone. "Cornelia, my dear, run to the house, and get +Michael and the wheelbarrow.--Any bones broken, do you think?" he +continued, carefully pursuing his investigations the while. + +"No, nothing! can't you let me lie here alone?" was the sulky reply. +But, as the other's hand happened to press lightly in the vicinity of +the chest, Bressant drew a quick, gasping breath, and could not control +a spasm of pain. + +"Don't touch there--it's where the shaft struck me," said he, in a voice +that was no more than a whisper, but as sullen as if he had been the +victim of some unpardonable wrong. There was a trace of mortification in +it, too, such as might have been caused by detection in a disgraceful +act. + +"Never saw any thing like this in him, before," said the professor to +himself. "Badly injured, too, I'm afraid: collar-bone broken, at any +rate. Ah! there's the wheelbarrow, and Neelie with some cushions. Now, +Michael, take hold of him carefully, and help me lift him in." But +Bressant, as he felt the first touch, opened wide his half-closed eyes, +and looked around savagely. + +"Keep your hands off me," whispered he, in a menacing tone; "if I must +go into the house, I'll walk in myself." + +"Nonsense! you're crazy! 'walk in?'" cried the professor. + +Bressant said no more, but, with an effort that forced a groan, he +rolled over on his face, and thence raised himself to a kneeling +posture. He paused so a moment, and then, by another spasmodic +movement, succeeded in gaining his feet. He had been twice kicked in his +right leg, and the pain was wellnigh insupportable. He stood balancing +himself unsteadily. + +"Let me help you," said Cornelia, coming to his side. But he took no +notice of her, not even turning his eyes upon her. He staggered blindly +along the road to the gate; it gave way before him with a reluctant +rattle, and closed with an ill-tempered clap as he passed through. +Swaying from side to side of the marble walk, he at last reached the +porch. In trying to ascend the steps, he stumbled, and pitched forward +in a heavy fall. + +"There!--confound his obstinacy! he's fainted," muttered the professor, +with an awful frown, while the tears ran down his cheeks. "Here, +Michael, help me carry him in before he comes to." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A KEEPSAKE. + + +Bressant's collar-bone was broken; there were two severe bruises on his +leg, though it had escaped fracture; his body in several places was +marked with dark contusions, and there was a cut in the back of his +head, where he had fallen against a stone. The professor set the +collar-bone--a harrowing piece of work, there being no anesthetics at +hand--and attended to the other hurts, the patient all the while +preserving a dogged and moody silence, and avoiding the eyes of whoever +looked at him. + +"Can't understand it," said the old gentleman to himself; "the fellow +acts like a wild-beast as regards his appreciation of human sympathy, in +spite of his refined intellect and cultivation. A wounded animal has the +same instinct to crawl away, and suffer in private." + +When brought into the house, Bressant had been laid in the spare room +adjoining the professor's study. After he had done all he could for his +comfort, the warm-hearted old gentleman, being overcome with fatigue, +retired to rest; the patient lay sullenly quiet, wishing it were day, +and, again, wishing day would never come: at length the composing +draught which had been given him took effect, and he sank heavily into +sleep. + +It was broad daylight when he awoke, and stared feverishly around him. +The room was a pleasant one, facing the north and east, and the morning +sun came cheerfully in through the open windows, slanting down the +walls, and brightening on the carpet. It was a great improvement upon +his rather gloomy room at the boarding-house, and he could not but feel +it so. A small ormolu clock ticked rapidly upon the mantel-piece, the +swing of the gilded pendulum being visible beneath. Bressant watched it +with idle interest. He felt so weak, in mind and body, that the clock +seemed company just fitted for his comprehension. + +The door opened by-and-by, and Cornelia's smiling face peeped in, +looking the sweeter for an expression of tender anxiety. Seeing that he +was awake, her eyes took on an extra sparkle, and she advanced a step +into the room, still clinging with one hand to the door-knob, however, +as if afraid to lose its support. + +"You feel a little better, don't you? Is that mattress comfortable? I'm +going to bring you your breakfast in a few minutes." + +Bressant only grew red and bit his mustache for answer. He would gladly +have covered himself up out of sight, but he could not move hand or +foot. + +Cornelia had in her mind a little speech she meant to deliver to +Bressant, on the subject of the previous night's event, but, at the +critical moment, she felt her courage forsaking her. The topic was so +weighty--and then she shrank from speaking out what was in her head, +perhaps because her auditor was there as well as her sentiments. Still, +she felt she ought to try. + +"Mr. Bressant," began she, with a kindling look, "Mr. Bressant, I--" +here her voice faltered; "oh! you don't know--I can never tell you--I +can never forget what you did last night!" This was the end of the great +speech. + +Bressant became still more red and uncomfortable. "I made a fool of +myself last night," said he, dejectedly. "I wish you hadn't been there; +if I'd known what a piece of work--" + +"But you saved my papa's life!" interrupted Cornelia, in a blaze. + +The young man looked as if struck with a new idea. It seemed as if he +had not before thought of looking upon the professor as an independent +quantity in the affair. The whole episode had presented itself to him as +a difficult problem which he was to solve. The accident to himself had +been an imperfection in the solution, of which he was deeply ashamed. +But he was somewhat consoled by the reflection that the old gentleman +had really needed preservation on his own account. + +"That does make it better," said he, half to himself, with the first +approach to good-humor he had shown since his misfortune. + +Cornelia still remained glowing in the door-way, turning the latch +backward and forward, not knowing what more to say, and yet unwilling to +say nothing more. She did not at all comprehend Bressant's attitude, and +therefore admired him all the more. What she could not understand in him +was, of course, beyond her scope. + +"You may think nothing of it, but I know I--I know we do--I can't say +what I want to, and I'm not going to try any more; but I'm sure you +know--or, at least, you'll find out some time--in some other way, you +know." + +Bressant could not hear all this, nor would he have known what it meant, +if he had; but he could see that Cornelia was kindly disposed toward +him, and was conscious of great pleasure in looking at her, and thought, +if she were to touch him, he would get well. He said nothing, however, +and presently his bodily pain caused him to sigh and close his eyes +wearily. Cornelia immediately kissed her soft fingers to him twice, and +then vanished from the room, looking more like a blush than a tea rose. +Before long she returned with the sick man's breakfast on a tray. + +"Do you like to be nursed?" asked she, as she put the tray on a table, +and moved it up to the bedside. + +"No!" said Bressant, emphatically, and with an intonation of great +surprise. + +"Oh! why not?" faltered Cornelia, quite taken aback. + +"I hate disabled people; they're monstrosities, and had better not be at +all. I wouldn't nurse them." + +"You think there's no pleasure in doing things for people who cannot +help themselves?" demanded Cornelia, indignantly. + +"There can be no pleasure in nursing," reiterated he. "It might be very +pleasant to be nursed--by any one who is beautiful--if one did not need +the nursing!" + +Cornelia was becoming so accustomed to Bressant's undisguised manners +that she forgot to be disturbed by this guileless compliment. Many hours +afterward, when she was alone in her chamber, the words recurred to her, +devoid of the version his manner had given them, and then they brought +the blood gently to her cheeks. + +"You're very foolish," said she, as she poured out some tea, and cut up +a mutton-chop into mouthfuls. "Now, you have to drink this tea, though +you wouldn't the last time I poured you out a cup; and I'll give you +your chop. Open your mouth." + +So the athlete of the day before was obliged to submit to having his +tea-cup carried to his lips and tipped for him by a woman, and the chop +administered bit by bit on a fork. It was very degrading; but once in a +while Cornelia accidentally touched him, or her face, lit up by interest +in her occupation, came so near his own that he felt warm and thrilled, +and went near to admit it was worth all the broken bones in the world, +and the sacrifice of pride accompanying them. + +Ere breakfast was over, Professor Valeyon entered with his slippers, his +pipe, and a remarkably benevolent expression for one of such impending +eyebrows. + +"Well, my boy," said he--ever since the accident he had addressed +Bressant thus--"you look in a better humor with yourself this morning. +You'll be well used to this room before you leave it," he continued, +with kindly gravity, as he felt his patient's pulse. "You'll know all +about the number and relative position of the bars and bunches of +flowers on the wall-paper opposite, and how many feet and inches it is +from the window-frame to the room-corner, and which pane of glass is the +crookedest, and how much higher one post of your bedstead is than the +other; and plenty more things of that kind. And, to tell you the truth, +my boy, I don't believe a course of such studies, by way of variety, +will do you any harm. Now, let's look at this collar-bone of yours.--O +Cornelia! you'd better be finishing your packing, hadn't you?" he added, +to his daughter, who was leaning on the back of his chair, sympathizing +with the sick man to her heart's content. She walked obediently to the +door, but, before she disappeared, turned and sent back a smile charged +with all the warmth of her ardent, womanly nature. Bressant got the +whole benefit of it; and it lingered with him most of the morning. + +"How long must I be here?" inquired he, after Cornelia was gone. + +"Three months at least," replied the surgeon; "more if you worry +yourself about it." + +"Three months!" repeated the young man, aghast. "What's to become of my +studies? I can't hold a book; I can't write; I had to have my breakfast +fed to me this morning," continued he, biting his mustache and looking +away. The professor smiled thoughtfully. + +"I have hopes," said he, "that you'll know more about Divinity when you +come out of this room than you did before you went into it. We'll see +when the time comes." + +"I've found out already that my bones are like other men's," remarked +Bressant, with a sigh. + +"So much the better," returned the old man. "You never would have +learned that out of your Hebrew Lexicon. The best way to reach this +young fellow's soul is through his body," declared he, silently, to the +bandage he was preparing for the broken head. "This is nothing but a +blessing in disguise." But he had too much tact to carry the +conversation further, and presently left his patient alone to digest +his breakfast and the lesson it had inculcated. + +This was Cornelia's last day at home; she was to take the eight-o'clock +train next morning to the city. The young lady's mood was unequal: +sometimes she drooped; anon would break forth into much talk and +merriment, which would evaporate almost as quickly as the froth of +champagne. This was her first departure from home, and the ease, +freedom, and beloved old ways of home-life, assumed more of their true +value in her eyes. She had acquired a sentiment of awe for Aunt +Margaret's grandeur. She would be obliged to sleep in corsets and +high-heeled shoes; everybody would be going through the figures of a +stately minuet all day long. + +Then she began to feel in advance the wrench of separating from those +with whom her life had been spent, and from one other in whose company +she had lived more--so it seemed to her--than in all the years since she +ceased to be a child. Bressant was very prominent in her thoughts; nor +could she be blamed for this, for the short acquaintance bad been +emphasized by a disproportional number of memorable events: First, there +was the thunder-storm evening by the fountain; afterward, the dance at +Abbie's; and, following in quick succession, the celestial arch, the +walk homeward, and the catastrophe in which he had borne the chief part. +Besides, he was so different from common men. + +"So perfectly natural and unaffected," she argued to herself. "He means +all he says; of course I shouldn't let him say such things to me as he +does if it weren't so; but it would be affectation in me to object to +it as it is!"--a most plausible deduction, by-the-way, but dangerous to +act upon. To persuade herself that, because he was an exceptional sort +of person, his plain way of talking to her was justifiable, was to +establish a secret understanding between him and herself, which placed +her at a disadvantage to begin with; and unreservedly to accept +compliments, even ingenuous ones, was to indulge in a luxury that must +ultimately render callous her moral sensitiveness and refinement. + +On the other hand, her toleration would be almost certain to have a bad +effect upon Bressant, no matter how sincere and well-meaning he might be +at the outset. A man is apt to know when he has power over a woman; and, +although he may have no expectation of it, nor wish to use it, yet, as +time goes on and accustoms him to the idea, he must have strong +principles or cold blood who does not finally yield to temptation. Plain +speaking, where pleasant things are said, is smelling poisonous flowers +for both parties. + +A steady fall of rain set in during the night, and made the morning of +departure gray. Blurred clouds rested helplessly on the backs of the +hills, and wept themselves into the wet valley without seeming to grow +less lugubrious for the indulgence. There was no wind; trees and plants +stood up and were soaked in passive resignation. The weather-beaten +boards of the barn were drenched black, except a small place right under +the eaves, which looked as if it had been painted a light gray. When the +covered wagon was brought around to the gate, it speedily acquired a +brilliant coat of varnish; Dolly's bay suit was streaked and discolored, +and the reins, thrown over her back, got all wet and uncomfortable. + +Michael now came for Cornelia's trunk--a ponderous structure packed +within an inch of its existence. Cornelia stood at the head of the +stairs and saw it go thump! thump! thump! down to the bottom, and then +scrape unwillingly over the oil-cloth to the door. Such a heavy-hearted +old trunk as it was! Then she walked to the hall-window, and watched its +further journey along the glistening marble causeway, which dimly +reflected its square ponderosity, and the tugging Michael behind it. + +Now the gate had to be pulled open; the rasp of its rattle and sharpness +of its flap were somewhat impaired by the wet, but it managed to give +the trunk a parting kick as it went out, as much as to say the house was +well rid of it. + +"Cornelia!" called the Professor from down-stairs, "you've just five +minutes to say good-by in. Get through and come along!" + +She passed through Sophie's open door; her sister held out her arms, her +eyes overflowing with tears, but smiling with the strange perversity +that possesses some people on these occasions. Cornelia was troubled +with no such misplaced self-dental; she threw herself impatiently down +by Sophie, and sobbed with all her might. Possibly it was more than one +regret that found utterance then. + +"You'll be all well and walking about when I come back, won't you dear?" +said she, at last, in a shaking voice. + +"I shall get well thinking what a splendid time you're having, +darling." + +"Sophie--will you be quite the same to me when I come back?" + +"Why, Neelie, dear, what a question! I shall always be the same to you." + +"But I feel as if there were going to be something--that something was +going to come between us;" and Cornelia began to droop like a flower +under an icy wind. "You never could hate me, could you, Sophie?" + +"Hate you! Neelie! What makes you speak so, dear? I have no misgivings." + +"Oh! I don't know--I don't know! it must be because I'm wicked!" + +"_You_ wicked, my darling sister! Come," said Sophie, with an earnest +smile, "think only of how much we love each other; let the misgivings +go." + +"Yes, we do love each other now, don't we? Whatever happens we'll always +remember that. Good-by, Sophie!" said Cornelia, with a strong hug and a +long kiss. + +"Good-by, dear Neelie!" + +Cornelia ran down-stairs; her papa had just gone out to the wagon; she +went into Bressant's room, and walked quickly up to the bedside. + +"Here's your watch," said she. "I've kept it all safe, and wound it up +and every thing." She had also slept with it under her pillow, and worn +it all day in her bosom, but that she did not mention. She laid it down +on the table as she spoke. + +"Have you a watch?" asked Bressant. + +"I had one, but it did not go very long. It was very small and pretty +though;" this is the short and pathetic history of most ladies' watches. + +"I'd like you to take something of mine with you that you can see and +hear and touch: will you keep this watch?" asked he, fixing his eyes +upon her. There was no time to deliberate; there was nothing she would +like so much; she snatched it up without a word and stuck it into her +belt. + +"Good-by!" said she, holding out her hand. Bressant took it, not without +difficulty. + +"I wish you were going to stay," said he, gloomily, "I should be more +happy to have you here, than ashamed to need your help." + +Cornelia's eyes fell, and there was a tremulousness on her lips that +might mean either smiles or tears. "You'll be glad to see me when I come +back, then, and you are well?" + +"You'll be like a beautiful morning when you come," returned he, with a +touch of that picturesqueness that sounded so quaintly coming from him. +All this time he had retained her hand, and now, looking her in the +eyes, he drew it with painful effort toward his lips. Cornelia's heart +beat so she could scarcely stand, and her mind was in a confusion, but +she did not withdraw her hand. Perhaps because he was so pale and +helpless; perhaps the old argument--"it's his way--he don't know it +isn't customary;" perhaps--for this also must have a place--perhaps from +a fear lest he should make no attempt to regain it. She felt his bearded +lips press against it. At the touch, a sudden weakness, a self-pitying +sensation, came over her, and the tears started to her eyes. + +"No one ever did that before to me," she said, almost plaintively, for +he had spoken no justifying words, and she was balancing between a +remorseful timidity and a timid exultation. + +"It's the first kiss I ever gave," said he, and his own voice vibrated. +"Are you angry? it shall be the last if you are." + +"Oh, I'm not angry," faltered poor Cornelia; and then she felt, or +seemed to feel, a force drawing her down--scarcely perceptible, yet +strong as death. She bent her lovely glowing face, with its tearful eyes +and fragrant breath, close down to Bressant's. + +At that very moment, or even an incalculable instant before, the +professor's voice was heard calling loudly from without: + +"Come--come! be quick! you'll be too late!" + +She rose and fled from the room; but it was too late, indeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +NURSING. + + +After seeing Cornelia off, Professor Valeyon bethought himself of Abbie; +she must be wondering what had become of her late boarder, and he +resolved to stop at the house, and give her an account of the accident. +He had got some distance beyond the boarding-house when the idea +occurred to him. Just as he was about to head Dolly round in the +opposite direction, he discerned a figure beyond, beneath an umbrella, +which looked very much like the person he was seeking. He drove on, and +in a few minutes overtook her. + +"Going up to the Parsonage?" cried the old gentleman, getting gallantly +down into the mud. "Here, jump up into-the wagon; I want to tell you +about your--boarder." + +"He--there's nothing the matter with him, of course?" said Abbie, with a +short laugh. She was looking very pale, and as if she had not slept much +of late. "No, don't drive mo to the Parsonage; take me home, if you +please, Professor Valeyon. Well, about Mr. Bressant?" + +"Doing very well now; he was pretty seriously hurt." And he went on to +give a short account of what had happened, which Abbie did not interrupt +by word or gesture; she sat with her head bent, and her lips working +against each other. + +"It's quite certain he'll recover?" she asked, when all was told. + +"As certain," quoth the professor, non-committally, "as any thing in +surgery can be." + +"It wouldn't be safe to move him, of course?" + +"Not till he's a good deal better; you see, the collar-bone--" + +"Yes, I'll take your word for it," said Abbie, very pale. "Well, I'm +glad he's in such good hands. If I had him he wouldn't be comfortable; I +should be sure to do him more harm than good; it's better as it is; much +better." + +She spoke in an inward tone, looking vacantly out into the rain, and +fumbling with the handle of her umbrella. + +"But you'll come up and see him once in a while, at the Parsonage?" + +Abbie shook her head. "No, no, Professor Valeyon; why should I? Do you +suppose he wants to see me? do you suppose he's thought of me once since +he went away? It would be a strange thing for an educated, intellectual, +wealthy young man like him to do, wouldn't it?" asked Abbie, with a +smile. + +The professor's eyes met hers for a moment, and then she looked away. +Presently she spoke again: + +"I'd a great deal rather leave this world as I've lived in it, for the +last twenty years and more, than run any risk of making a blunder. I +don't want things to change, Professor Valeyon; but if they do, it +musn't be through any act of mine, or yours either." + +By this time they had arrived at the boarding-house; and the old +gentleman, having seen Abbie safely in to the door, drove homeward, +frowning all the way, and at intervals shaking his head slowly. When he +got home, he shut himself into his study, and there paced restlessly +backward and forward, and stared out of the window across the valley. +That open spot on the hill-top seemed to afford little or no +enlightenment or satisfaction; and when he sat down to his solitary +dinner, the frown had not yet cleared away. + +The next day the rain was over, and a cart was sent up to the parsonage, +containing Bressant's books, and such other of his belongings as he +would be likely to need during his illness; and, accompanying them, a +note from Abbie, expressing her regret at his misfortune, and her hopes +that he would return to his rooms at her house as soon as his health was +sufficiently reestablished. The young man heard the note read, and +congratulated himself, as he closed his eyes with a yawn, that he was +not under his quondam landlady's ministrations. + +But even the best circumstances could do little to lighten the +insufferable tediousness of his confinement. Probably, however, such +changes and modifications as may have been in progress in his nature, +attained quicker and easier development by reason of his physical +prostration. The alteration in his bodily habits and conditions paved +the way for an analogous moral and mental process. The powers of a man +are never annihilated; if dormant in one direction, they will be active +in another; and thus Bressant's passions, naturally deep and violent, +being denied legitimate outlet, had given vigor, endurance, and heat of +purpose, to the prosecution of his intellectual exercises. But, as soon +as these elements of his nature found their proper channels, they rushed +onward with far more dash and fervor than if they had never been dammed +or deflected. + +The combined effect upon the young man of the companionship of a +beautiful woman and his own broken bones, had been to make him feel and +ponder on the nature of her power over him. The name of love was of +course familiar to him, but he could hardly as yet, perhaps, grasp the +full significance of the sentiment. Like other forms of knowledge, it +must be approached by natural gradations. Here, if nowhere else, +Bressant's life of purely intellectual activity was a disadvantage. His +stand-points and views were artificial, speculative, and material. Love +cannot be reduced to a formula, and then relinquished; nor is it ever +safe to use, as pattern for an untried work, the plan whereby something +else was accomplished. Life has need of many methods. + +Nearly a week of musing and speculation had passed over the young man's +head, when one day, as he was feeling unusually disconsolate, and +wishing for unattainable things--Cornelia among others--he became aware, +through some subtle channel of sensation, that somebody was standing in +the door-way. He was lying in such a position that he could not see the +door, so, after waiting a few moments, he exclaimed, with an invalid's +irritability: + +"Come in--or shut the door!" + +"I'll come in, if you please," answered an amused voice, which, though +soft and low, possessed a penetrating quality which made it easily +audible to the deaf man. He had never heard it before; but either +because of this quality, or for some other more occult reason, he +conceived a most decided liking for it. + +It's owner now became visible. She was a delicate-looking girl, with a +pale, conch-shell complexion, brown hair as fine as silk, and pleasant, +serene, gray eyes. She was dressed very simply in white, with a blue +band across her hair, and a blue scarf and sash around throat and waist. +Her face, though showing signs of quiet strength, and of a +self-confidence which was the flower of maidenly modesty and innocence, +was not beautiful according to any recognized standard. Bressant, from +his intuitive perception of form and proportion, was aware of this. The +forehead was too high, the nose irregular, the mouth lacked the perfect +curve, and the teeth, though white and even, were not small enough for +beauty. + +Nevertheless, Bressant was at once impressed with the young girl's +presence. It was as if an ethereal cloud--such as that which, shone +through by white sunlight, was just floating past the window--had eddied +unexpectedly into his chamber, cooling and quieting him with the +freshness of its heavenly vapor. Her eyes met his with a simple +directness which made his glance waver, though he was not given to +humility. Something, whereof neither science nor philosophy can take +cognizance, seemed to emanate from her, elevating while it humbled him. + +"If I'd known who you were, I--I shouldn't have asked you to shut the +door!" said he, in an apologetic tone quite new to him. + +"And how do you know who I am?" inquired the vision, with a refreshing +smile. + +"I meant, what sort of a person you were; but you must be Miss Sophie: +only I thought she was ill." + +"I am Miss Sophie, but I'm not to be thought ill any more. One invalid +in the house is enough. I'm going to nurse you, and, since I'm well, you +may be twice as ill as ever, if you choose." + +"Well!" said Bressant, quite resignedly. He was becoming a very +respectable patient. + +"In what way do you want to be taken care of?" resumed the nurse with a +cheerful, business-like gravity which was at once becoming and piquant. + +"Stay here and talk; I like to hear your voice: and you look so cool and +pleasant." + +Very few people could oppose this young man in any thing; he knew so +well what he wanted, and demanded it so uncompromisingly. But Sophie's +sense of fitness and propriety was as sound and impenetrable as adamant, +and scarcely to be affected by any human will or consideration. She felt +there was something not quite right in his manner and in the nature of +his demand; and, being in the habit of making people conform to her +ideas, rather than the reverse, she at once determined to correct him. + +"If there's any thing you wish me to read to you, I'll do it. I didn't +come to sit down and talk to you; but, if you like my voice, you can +have more pleasure from it in that way." + +"It would be no use for you to read: I couldn't understand--I couldn't +attend to your voice and the book at the same time." + +"We'd better wait, then," said Sophie, turning her clear, gray eyes upon +him with an expression of demure satire. "By-and-by, perhaps, it won't +have such a distracting effect upon you--when you come to know me +better. If not, I must keep away altogether." + +Bressant's forehead grew red with sudden temper. He felt reproved, but +was not prepared to acknowledge that he had merited it. + +"You're very generous of your voice!" exclaimed he, resentfully. "It's +your fault, not mine, that it's agreeable. You're not so kind as your +tone is." + +"I don't mean to be unkind," said she, more gently, looking down. "You +don't seem to see the difference between unkindness and--what I said." + +"What is the difference?" demanded he, taking her up. + +Sophie paused a few moments, compassionating this great, willful boy, +and wondering what she could do for him. He had saved her father's life, +thereby imperilling his own, and disabling himself, and she could not +but admire and thank him for it. But his manner puzzled and annoyed her, +and was an obstacle in the way of her would-be helpfulness. + +"You wouldn't ask that question, I think, if you'd had sisters, or a +mother," she said, at last. "I suppose you've lived only with men. But +you must learn how to treat young women from your own sense of what is +delicate and true." + +Bressant stared and was silent: and Sophie herself was surprised at the +authoritative tone she was assuming toward a bearded man whom she had +never met before. But it was impossible to associate with Bressant +without either yielding to him, or, at least, behaving differently from +at other times, in one way or another. He was a magnet that drew from +people things unsuspected by themselves. + +The pause was finally broken by the young man's accepting the situation +with a grace, and even docility, which was nearly too much for Sophie's +gravity. + +"If you'll read, I will listen and understand it: you'd better try the +Bible. I have a great deal of work to do upon that, still: you'll find +one on the table by the window." + +She got the book, with whose contents she was considerably better +acquainted than was the divinity student, and sat down to read, +marveling at the oddness of the situation; while he lay apparently +absorbed in the cracks on the ceiling. By degrees--for having carried +her point she could not help being more gracious--she began to allow a +little embroidery of conversation to weave itself about the sacred text +She spoke to Bressant about such simple and ordinary matters as went to +make up her life--the books she had read, the people she knew, the +country round about, a few of her more inward thoughts. He listened, and +said no more than enough to show he was attentive; sometimes making her +laugh by the shrewdness of his questions, and the quaintness of his +remarks. + +But he said nothing more to bring a grave look into the eyes of his +young nurse; and she, finding him so gentle and boyish, and withal manly +and profound, chatted on with more confidence and freedom; and, being +gifted with fineness and accuracy of observation, and a clear flow and +order of language and ideas, made talking a delight and a profit. + +There was nothing formal or didactic about Sophie, and her talk rippled +forth as naturally and spontaneously as a brook trickles over its brown +stones, or the over-hanging willows whisper in the wind. There was in it +the unwearied and unweariable freshness of nature. And Sophie's vein of +humor was as fine and pungent as the aroma of a lemon: it touched her +words now and then, and made their flavor all the more acceptable. + +So Bressant gained his end at last, though he had yielded it; and this +fact was not lost upon the trained keenness of his observation. After +his nurse was gone, he lay with closed eyes, and a general sensation of +comfort, until he fell asleep. Quiet dreams came to him, such as +children have sometimes, but grown-up people seldom. Everywhere he +seemed to follow a cool, white cloud. But where was Cornelia? + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +AN UNTIMELY REMINISCENCE. + + +In spite of nursing and a very strong constitution, Bressant's recovery +was slow. The fact was, his mind was restless and disturbed, and +produced a fever in his blood. Large and powerful as he was, his +physical was largely dependent on his mental well-being, as must always +be the case with persons well organized throughout. He would never have +been so muscular and healthy had his life not been an undisturbed and +self-complacent one. These questions of the heart and emotions were not +salutary to his body, however beneficial otherwise. + +At the same time, no one is quite himself who is ill, and doubtless +Bressant would have escaped many of his difficulties, and solved others +with comparatively little trouble, if his faculties had not been untuned +by illness. While he was more open to the influx of all these novel +ideas and problems, he was less able to deal with and dispose of them. +So the professor, while encouraged by the observation of his apparent +progress in the direction of human feeling and emotional warmth, was +concerned to find him falling off in recuperative power. + +Sophie was largely to blame for it. Bressant was getting to depend too +much upon her society. He brightened when she came in, and was gloomy +when she went out. He liked to talk and argue with her; to dash waves +of logic, impetuous but subtle, against the rock of her pure intuitions +and steady consistency. He was careful not to go too far; though, +indeed, she usually had the best of the encounter. Of course his +knowledge and trained faculties far surpassed Sophie's simple +acquirements and modest learning; but she had a marvelous penetration in +seeing a fallacy, even when she knew not how to expose it; and she +mercilessly pricked many of the conceited bubbles of his understanding. + +Doubtless she would have noticed the too prominent position which she +had come to occupy in the invalid's horizon, had not her eyes, so clear +to see every thing else, been blinded by the fact that he, also, was +grown to be of altogether too much importance to her. She never for a +moment imagined that any thing but an abstract and ideal scheme for +benefiting Bressant was actuating her in her intercourse with him. She +proposed to educate him in pure beliefs and true aspirations; to show +him that there was more in life than can be mathematically proved. But +that she could derive other than an immaterial and impersonal enjoyment +from it--oh, no! + +This was quixotic and unpractical, if nothing worse. What other means of +imparting spiritual knowledge could a young girl like Sophie have, than +to exhibit to her pupil the structure and workings of her own soul? But +this could not be done with impunity; neither was Bressant a cup, to be +emptied and then refilled with a purer substance. Young men and women +with exalted and ideal views about each other, cannot do better than to +keep out of one another's way. Unless they are prepared to mingle a +great deal of what is earthly with their dreams, they will be apt, +sooner or later, to have a rude awakening. + +The conceit of her ideal crusade against Bressant's shortcomings blinded +Sophie to what she could not otherwise have helped seeing--that she +enjoyed his companionship for its own immediate sake. She had, perhaps, +more direct and simple strength of character than he; but he made up in +other ways for the lack of it. Besides, he had not taken measures to +obstruct the natural keenness of his vision, and therefore saw, with +comparative clearness, how the land lay; an immense advantage over +Sophie, of course. But when he came to analyzing and classifying what he +saw, he found his intelligence at fault. That little episode with +Cornelia was the only bit of experience he had to fall back upon; and +that was more of a puzzle than an assistance to him. + +Matters went on thus for about six weeks, at which time Bressant was +still confined to his room, although decidedly convalescent. It had +seemed to him for some time past that a crisis would soon be reached in +his relations with Sophie, but what the upshot of it would be he could +not conjecture. He only felt that at present something was +concealed--that there were explanations and confessions to be made, +which would have the effect of putting his young nurse and himself upon +more open and intimate terms. He looked forward to this culmination with +impatience, and yet with anxiety. One morning, when they had been +reading Spenser's "Faerie Queene," Cornelia's weekly letter was brought +in, and subsequently the conversation turned upon her. + +"I used to think she was much more beautiful than you," remarked +Bressant, thoughtfully, twisting and turning the palm-leaf fan he held +in his hands. "I don't think, now, that I knew what beauty was," he +added, concentrating his straight eyebrows upon Sophie, in a +scrutinizing look. + +"No one could be more beautiful than Neelie," said Sophie, with gentle +emphasis. "What has made you change your opinion?" As she spoke, she +closed the book on her lap, and leaned her cheek upon her hand. Some of +the sunshine fell upon her white dress, but left her face in shadow. It +struck Bressant, however, that the clear morning light which filled the +room emanated from her eyes rather than from the sunshine. + +"I don't know that I have changed my opinion," said he, looking down +again at the fan; "I learn new things every day, that's all. Do you ever +think about yourself?" + +"I suppose I do, sometimes; nobody can help being conscious of +themselves once in a while." + +"About what you are, compared with other people, I mean." + +"There's nothing peculiar about me; still, I may be different, in some +ways, from other people," answered Sophie, with simplicity. + +"I can judge better about that than you; there was some use in deafness, +and being alone, and thinking only of fame, and such things." + +"What use?" asked Sophie, leaning forward, with interest, for he had +never spoken about his former life before. + +"The same way that a man who never drinks has a more delicate sense of +taste than a drunkard," returned Bressant, apparently pleased with his +simile. "I've seen so little of women, that I can taste you more +correctly than if I had seen a great many. Understand?" + +Sophie did not answer, being somewhat thrown out by this new way of +looking at the matter. There seemed to be some reason in it, too. + +"If I'd associated with other people, I shouldn't have been sensitive +enough to recognize you when we met; no one except me can know you or +feel you," continued he, following out his idea. + +Sophie began to feel a vague misgiving. What did this mean? What was +going to be the end of it? Ought she to allow it to go on? And yet--most +likely it meant nothing; it was only one of his queer fancies that he +was elaborating. There did not seem to be any thing suspicious in his +manner. + +"It wasn't easy even for me," he resumed, throwing another glance at +her; she sat with her eyes cast down, so that he could observe her with +impunity. "It would have been impossible unless you had helped me to it. +You have taught me yourself, even more than I have studied you." + +Sophie started, and a look of terror, bewilderment, and passionate +repudiation, lightened in her eyes. How dared he--how could he, say +that? how so falsely misrepresent her actions, and misinterpret her +purposes? Her mind went staggering back over the past, seeking for means +of self-justification and defense. She had only meant to benefit him--to +amplify and soften his character--to inspire him with more ideal views +and aims; and to do this she had--what? Sophie paused, and shuddered. +Could it, after all, be true? Had she, forgetful of maidenly modesty and +reserve, opened to this man's eyes her secret soul? invited him into the +privacy of her heart, to criticise and handle it?--invited him!--brought +forward, and pressed upon his notice, the thoughts and impulses which +she should scarcely have whispered even to herself? Had she done this? + +"You have taught me that there is no one like you in the world," said +Bressant. His voice sounded strangely to her, coming across such an +abyss of shame, remorse, and dismay. Did he know the bitter satire his +words conveyed? Sophie's face was hidden in her hands. She dared not +think what might come next. + +"Is it nothing to you to know that you are more to me than any thing +else?" demanded he, and his tone was becoming husky and unsteady. The +passion that had been smouldering within him so long, unsuspected in its +intensity even by himself, was now beginning to be-stir itself, and +shoot forth jets of flame. "Why have you let yourself be with me--why +have you made yourself necessary to me--if I was nothing to you?" + +Sophie, in the extreme depths of her degradation and abasement, became +all at once quiet and composed. She lifted her face, pale, and smitten +with suffering, from her hands, and, folding them in her lap, looked at +Bressant calmly, because she understood herself at last, and felt that +the time for hiding her head in shame had gone by. + +"You have _not_ been nothing to me," said she, "though I didn't know it +before, or, rather, I _would_ not. I had an idea that I was leading you +up to higher things, as an angel might, and all the time I was making +use of God's truth and recommendation, as it were, to gratify and shield +my own selfishness and--" here her voice sank, and her lips quivered, +and grew dry, but she waited, and struggled, and finally went on--"and +immodesty. I don't know why I should tell you this--except that I've +told you every thing else, and this may save you from some of the wrong +the rest has done you. But the most of it must remain irreparable." A +long sigh quivered up from Sophie's heart, and quivered down again, like +a pebble sinking through the water. Such a sigh, in a woman, is the sign +of what can scarcely come twice in a lifetime. + +"I don't understand any thing about that; I don't want to!" exclaimed +Bressant, with an impetuous gesture. "What you've done seems to have +been better than what you meant to do, at any rate. You've made yourself +every thing to me. Say that I am as much to you, and what more do we +need? Say it! say it!" and, in the vehemence of his appeal, the sick man +half raised himself from his bed. + +"I cannot! I cannot!" said Sophie, in a low, penetrating voice of +suffering. "If you were the lowest of all men, I could not. I came to +you in the guise of an angel, and what I have done, what woman is there +that would not blush at it? It may not be too late to save you--" + +"Stop!" cried Bressant, with an accent of hoarse, masculine command, +such as she could not gainsay. "It is too late!--I will not be saved! +Look in my eyes, Sophie Valeyon, and tell me the name of what you see +there!" + +Her sad, gray eyes, stern to herself, but tender and soft to him, as a +cloud ready to melt in rain-drops, met his, which were alight with all +the fire that an aroused and passionate spirit could kindle in them. She +saw what she had never beheld before indeed, but the meaning of which no +woman ever yet mistook. It was her work--the assurance of her +disgrace--the offspring of her self-seeking and unwomanly behavior; and +yet, as she looked, the blood rose gradually to her pale cheeks, and +stained them with a deeper and yet deeper spot of red; her glance caught +a spark from his, and her fragile and drooping figure seemed to dilate +and grow stately, as if inspired by some burst of glorious music. +Bressant, in the mid-whirl and heat of his emotion, fell back upon the +pillow, whence he had partly raised himself, trembling from head to +foot. + +"Is it love?" he said, in a smothered tone that was scarcely more than a +whisper. He was beaten down and overawed by the might and grandeur of +the passion which, growing in his own breast, had become a giant that +swayed and swept all things before it. + +"Yes--love!" said Sophie, in a voice like the soft ring of a silver +trumpet. Her heart was steadied and strengthened by what mastered him. +"Love--it is above every thing else. It has brought me down so +low--perhaps, through God's mercy, it is the path by which I may rise +again. You will guide me, dear?" + +And, with a gesture of divine humility, she put her hand in his, and +looked down, with the smile brightening mistily in her eyes. + +At that moment--recalled, perhaps, by a chance similarity in position, +gesture, or expression--came over him, like a sudden chill and darkness, +the memory of his last interview with Cornelia. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PARTING AN ANCHOR. + + +Cornelia, upon her arrival in New York, had been met at the station by +an emissary of Aunt Margaret, and conducted to a country-seat some +distance up the river. Four or five young ladies were already assembled +there, and as many young gentlemen came up on afternoon trains, and +availed themselves of Aunt Margaret's hospitality, until business called +them to the city again the nest morning, except that on Saturdays they +brought an extra change or two of raiment, to tide them over the blessed +rest of Sunday. + +"I've been so _ill_, my love--how sweet and fresh you _do_ look! +Give your auntie a kiss--there. _Oh_! you naughty girl, how jealous +all the girls will be of those _eyes_ of yours!--so ill--_such_ +dreadful sick-headaches--oh, yes! I'm a _great_ sufferer, dear, +a great _sufferer_--but no one, hardly, knows it. I tell _you_, you +know, dear, because you are my own darling little Cornelia. Oh! those +sweet _eyes_! So ill--so _unable_, you know, to be _up_ and _doing_--to +be as I should wish to be--as I once _was_--as you are now, +you--splendid--creature--you! Now you _must_ let me speak my heart out +to you, dear; it's my nature to do it, and I _can't_ restrain, +it--foolish I know, but I always _was_ so foolish! oh dear! well--Ah! +there's the first bell already. Let me show you your room, darling. As I +was going to say, I've been so indisposed that I've been obliged to pet +myself up a little here, before starting on our _tour_, you know, but in +a week I mean to be well again--I _will_ be. Oh! I have immense +_resolution_, dear Neelie--_immense_ fortitude, where those I love are +concerned. There, this is your little nest--now _one_ more kiss. Oh! +those sweet _lips_! Remember you sit by me at dinner." + +"What a funny old woman Aunt Margaret is!" said Cornelia to herself, +after she had closed the door of her chamber. "Such a queer voice--goes +away up high, and then away down low, all in the same sentence. And what +a small head for such a tall woman! and she's so thin! I do hope she +won't go on kissing me so much with her big mouth! how fast she does +twist it about! and then her front teeth stick out so! and she keeps +shoving that great black ear-trumpet at me, whenever she thinks I want +to speak; and her eyes are as pale and watery as they can be, and they +look all around you and never at you. Well, it's very mean of me to +criticise the old thing so; she's as kind as she can be. I wonder +whether she knows Mr. Bressant; her manner reminds me sometimes of him; +in a horrid way, of course, but--poor fellow! what is he doing now, I'd +like to know!" Here Cornelia's meditations became very profound and +private indeed; she, meanwhile, in her material capacity, making such +alterations and improvements in her personal appearance as were +necessary to prepare herself for the table. + +Every few minutes--oftener than any circumstances could have +warranted--she pulled a handsome gold watch out of her belt and +consulted it. She did not, to be sure, seem solely anxious to know the +hour; she bent down and examined the enameled face minutely; watched +the second-hand make its tiny circuit; pressed the smooth crystal +against her cheek; listened to the ceaseless beating of its little +golden heart. That golden heart, it seemed to her, was a connecting link +between Bressant's and her own. He had set it going, and it should be +her care that it never stopped; for at the hour in which it ran +down--such was Cornelia's superstitious idea--some lamentable misfortune +would surely come to pass. + +The dinner-bell sounded; she put her watch back into her belt, bestowing +a loving little pat upon it, by way of temporary adieu. Then, feeling +pretty hungry, she ran down the broad, soft-carpeted stairs, with their +wide mahogany banisters--she would have sat upon the latter and slid +down if she had dared--and entering the dining-room, which was furnished +throughout with yellow oak, even to the polished floor, she took her +place by her hostess's side. She had already been presented to the +fashionable guests who sat around the ample table, and a good deal of +the awe which she had felt in anticipation, had begun to ooze away. +Although much was said that was unintelligible to her, she could see +that this was not the result of intellectual deficiency on her part, but +merely of an ignorance of the ground on which the conversation was +founded. As Cornelia stole glances at the faces, pretty or pretentious, +of the young ladies, or at the mustaches, whiskers, or carefully-parted +hair of the young gentlemen, it did not seem to her that she could call +herself essentially the inferior of any one of them. As to what they +thought of her, she could only conjecture; but the gentlemen were +extravagantly polite--according to her primitive ideas of that +much-abused virtue--and the ladies were smiling, full of pretty +attitudes, small questions, and accentuated comments. No one of them, +nor of the young men either, seemed to be very hungry; but Cornelia had +her usual unexceptionable appetite, and ate stoutly to satisfy it; she +even tasted a glass of Italian wine at dessert, upon the assurance of +Aunt Margaret that "she must--_really_ must--it would never do to come +to New York without learning how to drink wine, you know;" and upon the +word of the young gentleman who sat next to her that it wouldn't hurt +her a bit--all wines were medicinal--Italian wines especially so; and +so, indeed, it proved, for Cornelia thought she had never felt so genial +a glow of sparkling life in her veins. She was good-natured enough to +laugh at any thing, and brilliant enough to make anybody else laugh; and +the evening passed away most pleasantly. + +But Cornelia was no fool, to be made a butt of; and her personality was +too vigorous, her individuality too strong, not to make an impression +and way of its own wherever she was. The young ladies tried in vain to +patronize her: they had not the requisite capital in themselves; and the +young gentlemen soon gave up the attempt to make fun of her; her +vitality was too much for them, and they were, moreover, disconcerted by +her beauty. Miss Valeyon, however, was new to the world, and her +curiosity and vanity had large, unsatisfied appetites. To have been +patronized and made fun of would have done her little or no harm; but in +gratifying these appetites she might do a good deal of harm to herself. + + +When the young gentlemen were in town, or in the smoking-room, the young +ladies were of course thrown upon their own resources, and generally +drifted together in little groups, to talk in low tones or in loud, to +laugh or to whisper. Cornelia, who soon got upon terms of companionship +with one or two members of these conclaves, could hardly do otherwise +than occasionally join the meetings. At first she found little or +nothing of interest to herself in what they talked about. + +The discussion of dress, to be sure, was something, and she found she +had much to learn even there. Then there was a great deal to be said +about sociables, and theatres, and sets, and fellows; and there was also +more or less conversation, carried on in a low tone that occasionally +descended to a whisper, which, beyond that it seemed to have reference +to marriage and kindred matters, was for the most part Greek to +Cornelia. A kind of metaphor was used which the country-bred minister's +daughter could not elucidate, nor could she comprehend how young ladies, +unmarried as she herself was, could know so much about things which +marriage alone is supposed to reveal. + +Once or twice she had requested an explanation of some of these obscure +points, but her request had been met, first by a dead silence, then by a +laugh, and an inquiry whether she had no young married friends, and also +whether she had ever read the works of Paul Feval, Dumas, and +Balzac--all of which gave her little enlightenment, but taught her to +keep her mouth shut, and open her eyes and ears wider. + +One day when "Aunt Margaret" had invited her to a _tete-a-tete_ in the +boudoir, it occurred to Cornelia, in the wisdom of her heart, to take +advantage of the opportunity to introduce the subject. She was a widow: +was very good-natured; would be sure not to laugh at her, and could +hardly help knowing as much as the young ladies knew. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Vanderplanck, as Cornelia entered, "such a +relief--such a _refreshment_ to look at that sweet face of yours! There! +I must have my _kiss_, you know. Yes, I was just thinking of you, my +love--so longing to have a quiet _chat_ with you--your dear +father!--such a _grand_ man he is! _such genius_! Oh! _I_ was his +devoted. Tell me all about him, and that sweet _home_ of yours, and +_dear_ little Sophie, too. Oh! I was so shocked, so terrified, to hear +of her illness; and--let me see!--oh, yes, and that new pupil your papa +has--Mr. Bressant--_how_ is he? _does_ he behave well? _is_ he pleasant? +_do_ you see much of him? _does_ he keep himself quiet?--such a--" + +"Why! how did you know about him?" interrupted Cornelia, into Mrs. +Vanderplanck's ever-ready ear-trumpet. "Is he a relation of yours, or +any thing?" + +Aunt Margaret stopped short, and pressed her thin, wide lips together. +She had never imagined but that Professor Valeyon had told his daughters +through whose immediate instrumentality it was that Bressant made his +appearance at the Parsonage; but finding, from Cornelia's questions, +that this was not so, she bethought herself that it might be well for +her young guest to remain in ignorance, at least for the present. It was +not too late, and, after a scarcely-perceptible pause, she made answer: + +"It was in your dear papa's _answer_ to my invitation, my love. Oh! so +shocked I was dear little Sophie couldn't come--lay awake _all_ that +night with a headache--yes, _indeed_!--when he _wrote_ to me, you +know--such a dear, noble letter it _was_, too! Oh! I read it over a +dozen--_twenty_ times at least!--he mentioned this new pupil of +his--seemed interested in him--of course I _can't_ help being interested +in whatever interests any of you dear ones, you know--he mentioned his +strange name and all--it _is_ a strange name, isn't it, love?" + +"It isn't his real name," interposed Cornelia; "nobody except papa knows +who he is. It's just like one of those ancient names, you know--the +Christian name and the surname in one." + +"Oh, yes, I see--so odd, isn't it?--such a _mystery_, and all +that--yes--so that's how I came to speak of him, I suppose. One gets +_ideas_ of a person that way sometimes, don't you know, though they may +never have actually _seen_ them at all? Oh! when I was a _young_ thing, +I was just full of those--_ideals, I_ used to call them--oh, you know +all about it, I _dare_ say!" + +"He met with a very serious accident just before I came away," said +Cornelia to the ear-trumpet; "he stopped Dolly--our horse--she was +running away with papa in the wagon. He saved papa beautifully, but he +was dreadfully hurt--his collar-bone was broken, and he was kicked, and +almost killed. He's at our house now, and papa's taking care of him." + +At this information Aunt Margaret became very white, or rather +bloodless, in the face. She allowed the ear-trumpet to hang by its +silver chain from her neck, and, reaching out her hand to a recess in +the writing-table at which she sat, she drew forth a small ebony box, +set in silver, and carved all over with little figures in bass-relief. +Opening it, she took out a few grains of some dark substance which the +box contained, and slipped them eagerly into her large mouth, Cornelia +watched her out of the corner of her eyes, and, being a physician's +daughter, she drew her own conclusions. + +"Ho, ho! that's where your sick-headaches, and yellow complexion, and +nervousness, and weak eyes, come from, is it? You'd better look out! +that's morphine, or opium, or some such thing, I know; and papa says +that old ladies like you, who use such drugs, are liable to get insane +after a while, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if you were to become +insane, Aunt Margaret!" + +This agreeable prophecy, being confined solely to Cornelia's thoughts, +was naturally inaudible to Mrs. Vanderplanck. She murmured something +about her doctor having prescribed medicine to be taken at that hour, +and then, the medicine appearing to have an immediate and salutary +effect, she found her color and her voice again, and took up the +conversation. + +"Shocking! oh, shocking! _so_ sad for the poor young man--no +father--no--no mother there to care for him. He _it_ an orphan, is he +not?--no relatives, I suppose--no one who _belongs_ to him, poor boy! +Dear, dear!--but he's _not_ fatally injured, is he?--not fatally?" + +"Oh, no," replied Cornelia, whose opinion of Aunt Margaret's character +was much improved by this evidently sincere sympathy in the suffering of +some one she had never seen--"oh, no; papa says he'll be all well in +three months." + +"And he's staying at your house, and under your dear father's care?" + +"Yes, he is now. Before his accident he was boarding at Abbie's, down in +the village. She would have been very kind to him, of course, but I +suppose he'd rather be at our house, because papa can always be at +hand." + +While Cornelia was delivering this into the black ear-trumpet, she +turned her eyes away from Aunt Margaret's face, being in truth somewhat +embarrassed at talking so much about the man who had her heart. +Consequently she did not observe the expression which crossed her +companion's face at her mention of the modest name of the boarding-house +keeper. Her features seemed to contract and sharpen, and there was +positively a glitter in her watery eyes, seemingly mingled of +consternation, astonishment, and hatred. In another moment the +expression had passed away, or was softened into one of nervous alarm +and anxiety; and even this, when she spoke, was wellnigh effaced. + +"Certainly--yes, _certainly_! your dear father--_what_ a wise man he is! +he _has_ such a profound knowledge of medicine and surgery--all those +things--so prudent, so careful! Still, a woman is a treasure, you +know--a good, sensible, efficient woman is a _host_--oh, yes, in a +sick-room. This boarding-house keeper, now--she's just such a person, I +_dare_ say--elderly, sober, experienced--a married woman, probably, with +a large family, no doubt? Abbie, Abbie! what _did_ you say her last name +was, my love?" + +Cornelia was so much amused at the idea of Abbie's being a married +woman with a large family that she did not observe how Aunt Margaret, +awaiting her answer, was all in a tremble. If she had not been laughing, +she could scarcely have helped seeing how the ear-trumpet shook as it +was presented to her. + +"Oh, no," said she, "she's not married, Aunt Margaret--at least not now, +though I believe she's a widow, or something of that kind, you know--and +she hasn't any children at all! As to her other name, I don't know it, +and I believe hardly any one does. You see, she's one of that queer sort +of people; she's very quiet, and always grave, and nobody knows much +about her, except that she's very good, and has lived in the village for +twenty years and more. I believe, though, papa has met her before, or +knows something about her in some way; but he never says any thing to us +on the subject." + +This was all that could be got out of Cornelia upon the topic of Abbie, +and Mrs. Vanderplauck was obliged to swallow whatever uneasiness, +curiosity, or misgiving she may have felt. In the midst of an +exhortation to her young guest to repeat her visit daily to the boudoir, +and regale her auntie with anecdotes of the dear old, interesting people +in the village, Abbie and all, some one of the young ladies knocked at +the door, and hurried Miss Valeyon off, without her having asked, as +she had intended, for an explanation of the puzzling, metaphorical +allusions. + +Mrs. Vanderplanck, left to herself, rocked backward and forward in her +chair, with her hands clasped over her forehead, much in the way that an +insane person might have done. + +"Who'd have thought it! who'd have thought it! In the very +village--in the very house--of all places in the world!--in the very +house!--and he laid up--can't be moved--can't be taken away. Why didn't +I know?--why didn't I find out?--careless--stupid--thoughtless! Curse +the woman! couldn't I have imagined that she'd never be far away from +her dear professor--and we sent him there--we hid him away--we disguised +his name--college was too public for him--let him finish his +education in the country--and then we could escape away--to +Germany--France--anywhere--and carry all the money with us--all the +money!--half for me, and half for him!--and what'll become of it now? +Curse the woman! I knew she couldn't be dead. But she sha'n't have the +money--no! she sha'n't, she sha'n't! + +"Is it possible, now?--could it be that that girl was deceiving me? Did +she know the woman's name, after all?--no, no! she hasn't the face for +it--no hypocrite in her yet--not yet, not yet! Well, but what if it's +all a mistake?--Why not a mistake? why not?--tell me that! Plenty of +women called Abbie, aren't there? Why shouldn't this be one of them--one +of the others? No, but the professor had known her before--oh, +yes!--known her before! and there's only one Abbie that the professor +knew before! Curse her--curse her! + +"Well, what if she is there? how will she know _him_? The professor +won't tell her--he can't--he dare not tell her!--for I made him promise +he wouldn't, and I've got his promise, written down--written down!--Ah! +that was smart--that was smart! Yes, but the boy looks like his +father!--that'll betray him!--she'll know him by that--know him? well, +just as bad--yes, and worse too, in the end--worse! Oh! curse her! + +"Never mind. I know how to manage. If the worst comes to the worst, I +know what to do! And I must write to him--not now--as soon as he's +well--he must come away. Even if it should turn out all a mistake, he +must come away!--I'll write to him, as soon as he's well, that he must +come away. And I'll question Cornelia again--ah! she's a handsome +girl!--it's well I got her up here, out of the way!--I'll find out more +from her. It may be a mistake, after all--it may, it may!" + +While Aunt Margaret, sitting in her boudoir, thus took doubtful and +disconnected counsel with herself, Cornelia was left to manage her +little difficulties as best she might. Being tolerably quick in +observing, and putting things together, and unwilling to trust to +intuitive judgments of what was safe or unsafe in the moral atmosphere, +she set to work with all her wits, and not without some measure of +success, to fathom the secrets of the tantalizing freemasonry which +piqued her curiosity. By listening to all that was said, laughing when +others laughed, keeping silent when she was puzzled, comparing results +and drawing deductions, she presently began to understand a good deal +more than she had bargained for, was considerably shocked and disgusted, +and perhaps felt desirous to unlearn what she had learned. + +But this was not so easy. Things she would willingly have forgotten +seemed, for that very reason, to stick in her memory--nay, in some moods +of mind, to appear less entirely objectionable than in others. She had +little opportunity for solitude--to bethink herself where she stood, and +how she came there. During the daytime, there were the young ladies, +here, there, and everywhere; there could be no seclusion. In the +afternoons and evenings some admiring, soft-voiced young gentleman was +always at her side, offering her his arm on the faintest pretext, or +attempting to put it round her waist on no pretext at all; who always +found it more convenient to murmur in her ear, than to speak out from a +reasonable distance; whose hands were always getting into proximity with +hers, and often attempting to clasp them; whose eyes were forever +expressing something earnest or arch, pleading or romantic--though +precisely what, his lingering utterance scarcely tried to define; who +never could "see the harm" of these and many other peculiarities of +behavior; and, indeed it was not very easy to argue about them, although +the young gentlemen never shrank from the dispute, and never failed to +have on hand an inexhaustible assortment of syllogisms to combat any +remonstrance that might be advanced withal; while at the worst they +could always be surprised and hurt if their conduct were called into +question. Well, they appeared to be refined and high-bred. Compare them +with Bill Reynolds! And the flattery of their attention, and the +preference they gave her over the other girls, were not entirely lost +upon Cornelia. + +In the absence of both gentlemen and ladies, there, on an +easily-accessible shelf in the library, were those works of Dumas, +Feval, and the rest, to which Cornelia's attention had been indirectly +invited. She had a sound knowledge of the French language, and an +ardent love of fiction, and beyond question the books were of absorbing +interest. + +At first, indeed, Cornelia, as she read, would ever and anon blush, and +look around apprehensively, for fear there should be an observer +somewhere; and this, too, at passages which a week before she would have +passed over without noticing, because not understanding them. If any one +appeared, she hid the book away in the folds of her dress, or under the +sofa-cushion, and put on the air of having just awakened from a nap. +By-and-by, however, when she had become a little used to the tone of the +works, and had asked herself, what were the books put there for, unless +to be read, she plucked up courage, as her young friends would have +said--albeit angels might have wept at it--and overcame her notions so +far as to be able to take down from its shelf and become deeply +interested in one of the Frenchiest of the set, while three or four +people were sitting in the library! + +A triumph that! Howbeit, when she went to bed that night there was a +persistent pain of dry unhappiness in her heart, and a self-contemptuous +feeling, which she tried to get the better of by calling it _ennui_. But +in time a kind of hardness, at once flexible and impenetrable, began to +encase her, rendering her course more easy, less liable to +embarrassment, more self-confident than before. + +At length a crisis was brought on by the attempt of the boldest of her +admirers to kiss her. She repelled him passionately, facing him with +gleaming eyes, and lips white with anger and disgust. He was surprised, +at first--then angry; but she spoke to him in a way that cowed, and +finally almost made him ashamed of himself. He even went so far, +afterward, as to try to knock a fellow down for speaking disrespectfully +of "Neelie." For her own part, she locked herself into her room, and +cried tempestuously for half an hour; then she spent a still longer time +in lying with her heated face upon the pillow, reviewing the incidents +of her life since Bressant had entered into it. He was the superior of +any man she had met before or since: she was sure of it now; it could no +longer be called the infatuation of inexperience. She took herself well +to task for the recent laxity and imprudence of her conduct; did not +spare to cut where the flesh was tender; and resolved never again to lay +herself open to blame. + +This was very well, but the mood was too strained and exalted to be +depended upon. Cornelia got up from the disordered bed, put it to rights +again, washed her stained face carefully, rearranged her hair, and went +down-stairs. All that afternoon she was cold, grave, and reserved; +inquiries after her health met with a chilling answer, and her friends +wisely concluded to leave her malady, whatever it were, to the cure of +time. As dinner progressed, Cornelia began to thaw: when Mr. Grumblow, +the member of Congress, requested her, with solemn and oppressive +courtesy, to do him the honor of taking a glass of wine with him, she +responded graciously; and as the toasts circulated, she first looked +upon her ideal resolves with good-humored tolerance, and then they +escaped her memory altogether. She became once more lively and +sparkling, and carried on what she imagined was a very brilliant +conversation with two or three people at once. By the time she was +ready to retire, she had practised anew the whole list of her +lately-abrogated accomplishments; and she wound up by picking the French +novel out of the corner into which she had disdainfully thrown it twelve +hours before, reading it in bed until she fell asleep, and dreaming that +she was its heroine. And yet she had not forgotten to wind up Bressant's +watch, and put it in its usual place under her pillow. + +It might seem strange that his memory should not have kept her beyond +the reach of deleterious influences. But a young girl's love is any +thing but a preservative, if it shall yield her, in any aspect, other +than such pure and delicate thoughts as she would not scruple to whisper +in her mother's ear, or to ask God's blessing on at night. Should there +be any circumstance or incident, however seemingly trifling and +unimportant, in her reminiscences, which nevertheless keeps recurring to +the mind with a slight twinge of regret--a feeling that it would have +been just as well had it never happened--then is love a dangerous +companion. Gradually does the trifling spot grow upon her; in trying to +justify it, she succeeds only in lowering the whole idea of love to its +level; and this once accomplished, in all future intercourse with her +lover she must be undefended by the shield of her maidenly integrity. +And not all men are great enough not to presume on woman's weakness, +even though it be that woman, to assert whose honor and purity they +would risk their lives against the world. + +Some such quality of earthiness Cornelia may have felt in the course of +her acquaintance with Bressant, preventing her love from ennobling and +elevating her. Alas! if it were so. If she cannot draw a high +inspiration from the affection which must be her loftiest sentiment, +what shall be her safeguard, and who her champion? + +In the course of ten days or a fortnight, Aunt Margaret announced that +the condition of her head would admit of traveling, and the +long-expected tour began. But the more important consequences of +Cornelia's fashionable experiences had already taken place. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +SOPHIE'S CONFESSION. + + +Sophie did not stay long in the invalid's room after the awakening they +had undergone with respect to one another. She went instinctively to her +father's study, and, entering the open door, kissed the old man ere he +was well aware of her presence. He took her affectionately upon his +knee, and hugged her up to him with homely tenderness. + +"My precious little daughter!" quoth he; "what would your old father do +without you?" + +"Am I so much to you, papa?" asked she, with her cheek resting upon his +shoulder. + +"Very much--very much, Sophie: too much, perhaps; for I don't see how I +could bear to lose you." + +"Do you mean to have me die, papa?" + +"How is your sick boy getting along?" returned the professor, clearing +his throat, and not seeming to hear his daughter's words. + +Sophie caught a breath, and paled a little at the thought of the news +she had to tell about the sick boy. Her father had just told her she was +precious to him, and she felt that to be married might involve a +separation virtually as complete as that of death, and perhaps harder to +bear. But, again, she needed his sympathy and approval: and, sooner or +later, he must hear the truth. She was not, perhaps, aware that +etiquette should have closed her lips upon the subject until after +Bressant had spoken to the professor; at all events, she had no +intention of delegating or postponing her confidence. + +"He seemed quite well when I left him. I have been having a--talk with +him, papa." + +"He begins to show the effects of being talked to by you, my dear. +You're a wise little woman in some ways, that's certain! and have done +him good in more ways than one," said papa, with parental complacency. + +Sophie shrank at this, remembering how lately she had fed herself with +the same idea. She had learned a great deal about herself since +discovering how little of herself she knew. + +"He is a--man!" said she, trying to throw into the word an expression of +its best and loftiest meaning. "I can do very little to help him." + +"Hope to see him a man some day, my dear," returned the professor, +gathering his eyebrows. "Has a great many faults at present. Why, in +some respects, he's as ignorant and inexperienced as a child. Very +one-sided affair still, I fear, that soul of his!" + +"One-sided, papa?" + +"Yes: don't believe it would carry him very far toward heaven, as it is +now," said the old gentleman, whose severity of judgment was cultivated +in this instance as a preservative against possible disappointment. "He +needs melting in a crucible." + +"What does that mean?" + +"If you weren't a wise little woman, as I said, I shouldn't be talking +about my pupil's character and management with you, my dear. But I can +trust you as well as if you were forty;" and here he gave her another +little hug, which made Sophie feel like a receiver of stolen goods. +"Well, now, theorizing won't do a young fellow like that much good. He +needs something real--that he can take hold of, and that'll take hold of +him. You and I can't give it him--not more than an impetus in the right +direction, at any rate. But the only thing that can make his future +tolerably secure--make it safe to count upon him (or upon any other man, +for that matter), is for him to fall heartily and soundly in love, in +the old-fashioned way, and with a strong-hearted, worthy woman." + +"O papa! do you really think marriage will help him to be greater and +better?" + +"It's the only thing for him, my dear," said Professor Valeyon; and, +although he was looking his guilty little daughter straight in the face, +and at such short range, too, this would-be sharp-sighted old man of +wisdom never thought to ask himself why she blushed so. "As soon as he +gets well again, I must see to getting him somewhere where he can have a +chance to profit by what we have done for him." + +"Papa," said Sophie, sitting up, and stroking the old gentleman's white +beard, "you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you think that to +love and to be loved will be good for him." + +"So anxious to get rid of him, eh?" + +"No; oh! papa, don't you see? it's because--because I _never_ want to +get rid of him!" and Sophie, catching her father suddenly around the +neck, hid her face in his linen coat-collar. + +The professor, his features discharged of all expression, sat +stone-still, looking straight before him. Had Death been embracing him, +instead of his daughter, he could hardly have been struck more +motionless. Existence, spiritual as well as physical, seemed for a space +to have come to a stand-still. + +By-and-by, startled at his silence, Sophie raised her head and looked at +him with alarmed eyes. With an effort, he turned his face toward her, +and smiled as naturally as though his mouth had been frozen. + +"I'm an old man, you see, my dear: a surprise like this makes me feel +it," he made shift to say, in an uncertain voice. "So--you're engaged to +each other?" + +"We're waiting for you to say we may be, papa." + +"It is right--it is just!" said the professor, solemnly, though still +with a sluggish utterance. "I sought to glorify God to the end of mine +own glorification, and lo! He hath taken from me my own heart's blood!" +Swept off his feet by the profundity of his emotion, the ministerial +form of speech, so long disused, rose naturally to the old man's lips. + +But presently, the paralyzing effect of the shock beginning to wear off, +he drew a few long breaths, and found himself growing very hot. He took +out his handkerchief and wiped away the perspiration that had gathered +on his forehead. Then he took his little daughter strongly yet +tremblingly to his heart, and kissed her more than once. + +"God bless you! my darling--my Sophie--you're my Sophie still, if you +are in love with that--great overgrown rascal. I'm a fool--an old fool! +Well--and how long has this been going on between you, my darling?" + +Sophie's heart, which, in the passionate tumult of her recent interview +with her lover, had remained so steady and unfaltering, began now to +beat with such violence as to impede her utterance and visibly to shake +her. She was resolved to show herself to her father even as she was. + +"I hardly can say how long, papa--I think--I think it must have been +a--a long time--at least, on my side. Oh! I have been so false--so false +to myself, and so unwomanly! I have courted him, papa--_I_, papa--think +of it! I've thrown myself in his way, and--and made him interested in +me; and talked to him about things that--no one but his mother, or you, +should have done. Poor fellow!--I've forced myself upon him, papa. I +took advantage of his illness and helplessness, and pretended all the +time I was thinking only of his spiritual welfare, and--and not of--of +any thing else. That was the wickedest part. And yet, somehow, I +deceived myself too--or, rather, I wouldn't see the truth: and I didn't +know--papa, I really believe I didn't know that I--loved him, till +he--till he began to speak of it; then it seemed suddenly to fill all my +heart, as if it had always lived there. For I succeeded, papa: I've won +his love, and, oh! he loves me so! he loves me so! and so I've found my +punishment in my happiness. God is so just and good. The happier his +love makes me, you see, the more I shall be humbled to think how it +became mine. It is well for me, for I was proud and reserved and full of +self-conceit. And you really think it will not hurt him to love me, and +to have me love him, papa?" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" growled the old gentleman, testily; "hurt him!" + +But the professor was really a very wise man, in spite of his occasional +blindness; and he refrained from showing Sophie the exaggeration and +distortion which marked the view she took of her conduct. He saw it +would involve lowering the high integrity of her ideal conceptions +respecting delicacy and honor--hardly worth while, merely for the sake +of explaining the distinction between a trifling piece of self-deception +and mistaken vanity, and the severe and unrelenting sentence which +Sophie had passed upon herself. Meanwhile, every word she had uttered +had been an indirect, but none the less telling blow upon a sore place +in his own conscience. It was long since Professor Valeyon had stood so +low in his own self-esteem. + +They sat awhile in silence, Sophie nestling up to her father as if +seeking protection from the very love that had come to her; and he +sighed, and sighed again, and coughed, and pulled his nose and his +beard, and finally blew his nose. Then, depositing Sophie upon her feet, +he got slowly up, stretched himself, and went for his pipe. + +"Run off, my dear. Go up in your room, or out in the garden, or +somewhere. I must be alone a little while, you know; must think it all +over, and see how things stand. Besides, I must step in and see this +fellow who's going to rob me of my daughter, and tell him what I think +of him. Come, off with you!" + +"You'll be happy about it--you'll forgive us, won't you, papa?" she +said, turning at the door. + +The old gentleman shuffled heavily up to her, and kissed her on the +forehead. + +"God bless you, and God's will be done, my darling!" said he; but at +that moment he could say no more. + +An hour afterward, however, when the professor knocked the ashes out of +his second pipe, and laid his hand upon the latch of Bressant's door, +the expression upon his strongly-cut features was neither gloomy nor +severe. There was a look in his eyes of benignant sweetness, all the +more impressive because it made one wonder how it could find a place +beneath such stern eyebrows and so deeply lined a forehead. But, cutting +off an offending right hand, although a bitter piece of work enough for +the time being, may, in its after-effect, work as gracious a miracle in +an older and more forbidding gentleman even than Professor Valeyon. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +A FLANK MOVEMENT. + + +Bressant was lying comfortably upon his bed with his eyes closed; no one +would have imagined there had been any outburst or convulsion of passion +in his mental or emotional organism. He breathed easily; there was a +pale tint of red in his cheeks, above his close, brown beard; his +forehead was slightly moist, and his pulse, on which the surgeon laid +his finger with professional instinct, beat quietly and regularly. In +entering upon the world of love, all marks of wounds received upon the +journey seemed to have passed away. + +He opened his eyes at the professor's touch, and fixed them upon the old +gentleman in such a serene stare of untroubled complacency as one +sometimes receives from a baby nine months old. + +"Well, sir"--the professor, from some subtle delicacy of feeling +respecting the prospective change in their relationship, adopted this +form of address in preference to that more paternal one he had been in +the habit of using since Bressant's accident--"well, sir, how do you +find yourself now?" + +"Much better; I shall soon be well now. I feel differently from ever +before--very light and full here," said the young man, indicating the +region of his heart. + +"I've seen Sophie," observed Professor Valeyon, after a somewhat long +silence, which Bressant, who had calmly closed his eyes again, showed no +intention of breaking. + +"Sophie and I love each other," responded he, meditatively, and rather +to himself than to the father. The latter could not but feel some +surprise at the untroubled confidence the young man's manner displayed. +Before he could put his thought into fitting words, the other spoke +again. + +"I've been thinking, I should like to marry her." + +"You'd like to marry her?" repeated the old gentleman, with a mixture of +sternness and astonishment, his forehead reddening. "What else do you +suppose I expected, sir?" + +Bressant turned over on his side, and regarded him with some curiosity. + +"Do all people who love each other, or because they love each other, +marry?" demanded he. + +For a moment, the professor seemed to suspect some latent satire in this +question; but the young man's face convinced him to the contrary. + +"In many marriages, there's little love--true love--on either side; +that's certain," said he, passing his hand down his face, and looking +grave. "But marriage was ordained for none but lovers." + +"The reason I want to be married to Sophie is because I love her so much +I couldn't live without her," resumed Bressant, as if stating some +unusual circumstance. + +"Humph!" ejaculated the professor, partly amused and partly puzzled. + +Bressant rubbed his forehead, and fingered his beard awhile, and then +continued: + +"We've been reading poetry lately, and romances, and such things. I used +to think they were nonsense--good for nothing; because they came out so +beautifully, and represented love to be so great an element in the +world. But now I see they were not good enough; they are much below the +truth; I mean to write poetry and romances myself!" + +This tickled Professor Valeyon so much, that he burst out in a most +genuine laugh. The intellectual animal of two or three months before +seemed to have laid aside all claims to what his brain had won for him, +and to be beginning existence over again with a new object and new +materials. And had Bressant indeed been a child, the succession of his +ideas and impulses could hardly have been more primitive and natural. + +"What's to become of our Hebrew and history, if you turn poet?" inquired +the old gentleman, still chuckling. + +Bressant turned his head away and closed his eyes wearily. "I don't want +any thing more to do with that," said he. "Love is study enough, and +work enough, for a lifetime. Mathematics, and logic, and philosophy--all +those things have nothing to do with love, and couldn't help me in it. +It's outside of every thing else: it has laws of its own: I'm just +beginning to learn them." + +"A professional lover! well, as long as you recognize the sufficiency of +one object in your studies, you might do worse, that's certain. But you +can't make a living out of it, my boy." + +"I don't need money, I have enough; if I hadn't, money-making is for +men without hearts; but mine is bigger than my head; I must give myself +up to it." + +"That won't do," returned the professor, shaking his head. "Lovers must +earn their bread-and-butter as well as people with brains. Besides," +here his face and tone became serious, "there's one thing we've both +forgotten. This matter of your false name--you can't be married as +Bressant, you know: and if the tenure of your property depends, as you +said, on preserving the _incognito_, I have reason to believe that you +stand an excellent chance of losing every cent of it, the moment the +minister has pronounced your real name." + +"No matter!" said the young man, with an impatient movement, as if to +dismiss an unprofitable subject. "I shall have Sophie; my father's will +can't deprive me of her. I don't want to be famous, nor to have a great +reputation--except with her." + +The old man was touched at this devotion, unreasonable and impracticable +though it was. He laid his hand kindly on the invalid's big shoulder. + +"I don't say but that a wife's a good exchange for the world, my boy; +I'm glad you should feel it, too. But when you marry her, you promise to +support her, as long as you have strength and health to do it. It's a +natural and necessary consequence of your love for her"--and here the +professor paused a moment to marvel at the position in which he found +himself--stating the first axioms of life to such a man as this pupil of +his; "and you should be unwilling to take her, as I certainly should be +to give her, on any other terms. If your hands are empty, you must at +any rate be able to show that they won't always continue so." + +"Well, but I don't want to think about that just now; I can be a farmer, +or a clerk; I can make a living with my body, if I can't with my mind; +and I can write to Mrs. Vanderplanck, some time, and find out just how +things are." + +"Very well--very well! or perhaps I'd better write to her +myself--well--and as long as you are on your back, there'll be no use in +troubling you with business--that's certain! And perhaps things may turn +out better than they look, in the end." + +As Professor Valeyon pronounced this latter sentence, he smiled to +himself pleasantly and mysteriously. He seemed to fancy he had stronger +grounds for believing in a happy issue, than, for some reason, he was at +liberty to disclose. And the smile lingered about the corners of his +mouth and eyes, as if the issue in question were to be of that +peculiarly harmonious kind usually supposed to be reserved for the +themes of poems, or the conclusions of novels. + +"I never was interested to hear of the every-day lives of men who have +loved, and wanted to make their way in the world; for I never expected I +should be such a man. Now, I'm sorry; it would have been useful to me, +wouldn't it?" + +"Perhaps it might," responded the old gentleman, musing at the change in +the attitude of the young man's mind--once so self-sufficient and +assertive, now so dependent and inexperienced. "Very few lives are bare +and empty enough not to teach one something worth knowing. I know the +events of one man's life," he added, after a few moments of thoughtful +consideration; "perhaps it might lead to some good, if I were to tell +them to yon." + +"Did he marry a woman he loved?" demanded Bressant. + +"You can judge better of that when you hear what happened before his +marriage," returned the professor, apparently a little put out by the +abruptness of the question. "He made several mistakes in life; most of +them because he didn't pay respect enough to circumstances; thought that +to adhere to fixed principles was the whole duty of a man: nothing to be +allowed to the accidents of life, or to the various and unaccountable +natures of men, their uncertainty, fallibility, and so on. One of the +first resolutions he made--and he's never broken it, for when he grew +wise enough to do so, the opportunity had gone by forever--was never to +leave his native country. He wanted to prove to himself, and to +everybody else whom it might concern, that a man of fair abilities might +become learned and wise, without ever helping himself to the good things +that lay beyond the shadow of his native flag. 'The majority of people +have to live where they are born,' was his argument; 'I'll be their +representative.' Well, that would seem all well enough; but it stood in +his way twice--each time lost him an opportunity that has never come +again--the opportunity to be distinguished, and perhaps great; and the +opportunity to have a happy home, and a luxurious one. It was better for +him, no doubt, that his life was a hard and disappointed one, instead +of--as it might have been; he's had blessings enough, that's certain; +but he has much to regret, too; the more, because the ill effects of a +man's folly and willfulness fall upon his friends quite as often, and +sometimes more heavily, than upon himself. + +"He was a poor man in college, and an orphan. The property of his family +had been lost in the War of 1812; from then till he was twenty-one, he +had followed a dozen trades, and saved a couple of hundred dollars; and +he'd picked up book-learning enough to enter the sophomore class. The +first thing he did was to make a friend; he loved him with his whole +heart; thought nothing was too good for him, and so on. He and his +friend led the class for three years; and up to the time of the last +examination, he was first and his friend second. In the examination they +sat side by side; one question the friend couldn't answer; the other +wrote it out for him; after the examination the two papers were found to +be alike in the answer to that question, and the friend was summoned +before the faculty, and asked if he had copied it. He denied it--said it +had been copied from him; so he took the first rank in graduating, and +the other was dropped several places." + +"What became of their friendship after that?" inquired Bressant. + +"He I'm telling you of never knew any thing of what his friend had done +till long afterward. Well, the faculty and some of the wealthy patrons +of the university determined to send the first scholar abroad, to finish +his education: he accepted the offer eagerly, and sailed for Europe, +without bidding his friend good-by. Afterward, the faculty made the same +offer to him, on the consideration that he had stood so well, during his +course, until the examination. But he declined it: it was contrary to +his principle of never leaving his country." + +"What sort of a man was the friend?" asked Bressant, who was paying +close attention, with his hand at his ear. + +"Clever, with a winning manner, and fine-looking; had a pleasant, easy +voice; never lost his temper that I know of." The professor paused, +perhaps to arrange his ideas, ere he went on. "The man I'm telling you +of left the college-yard with as much of the world before him as lies +between the fifteenth and twenty-fifth parallels of latitude, and the +Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. He'd made up his mind to be a physician; +and in a year he was qualified to enter the hospital; worked there four +years, and, by the time he was twenty-nine, he had an office of his own +and a good practice. + +"At last, he fell in love with a beautiful woman; she was the daughter +of one of his patients--a Southerner with a little Spanish blood in him. +The young doctor had--under Providence--saved the man's life; and, since +he himself came of a good family--none better--and had a respectable +income, there wasn't much difficulty in arranging the match. The only +condition was, that the father should never be out of reach of his +daughter, as long as he lived." + +"Was this Southerner rich?" + +"Very rich; and a dowry would go with the daughter enough to make them +more than independent for the rest of their lives. Well, just about that +time, the friend who had gone to Europe came back. He'd done well +abroad, and-was qualified for a high position at home. He was engaged to +marry a stylish, aristocratic girl, who was not, however, wealthy. But +he seemed very glad to see the doctor, and the doctor certainly was to +see him, and invited him to stay at his house a while, and he introduced +him into the house of his intended wife." + +Here the professor broke off from his story, and, getting up from his +chair, he passed two or three times up and down the room; stopping at +the window to pull a leaf from the extended branch of a cherry-tree +growing outside, and again, by the empty fireplace, to roll the leaf up +between his finger and thumb, and throw it upon the hearth. When he +returned to the bedside, he dropped himself into his chair with the +slow, inelastic heaviness of age. + +"The fellow played him a scurvy trick," resumed he, presently. "Exactly +what he said or did will never be known, but it was all he safely could +to put his friend in a bad light. It was because he wanted the young +lady for himself; he was ambitious, and needed her money to help him on. +What he said made a good deal of impression on the father; but the +daughter wouldn't believe it then--at any rate, she loved the doctor +still, and would, as long as she knew he loved her." + +"Why didn't the other manage to make her think he didn't?" + +"Well, sir, he did manage it," returned the professor, compressing his +white-bearded lips, and lowering his eyebrows. "He told the father some +story of having met relations of his in Spain; told him the climate +would cure him of all his ailments, without need of a physician, and +persuaded him to make the journey at last. The doctor heard of it first +by a note written by his intended father-in-law. It contained no +request nor encouragement to accompany them--of course, the daughter was +to go too; her father wouldn't separate from her. But the doctor's +friend had not trusted only to that: he knew that the other's resolution +never to leave his country was not likely to be broken, so he was quite +secure." + +"And the doctor knew nothing of how his friend was cheating him?" + +"No, not then. Far from it; he showed him the letter, and asked him for +advice. He never dreamed of doubting his constancy, either to himself or +to the girl he was engaged to marry. His friend counseled him to write a +letter to her he meant to make his wife, explaining his position, and +asking her not to leave him. He would carry it to her, and advocate it +himself, he said, and do all in his power to influence the father. The +young doctor didn't altogether relish this course, nevertheless he +trusted in his friend, wrote the letter, and gave it into his hands. + +"He never saw his friend after that day. The next morning came an answer +from the young lady--a cruel and cold rejection of him--repudiation of +his love, and a doubt of his honor. It bewildered him, and, for a time, +crushed him. Long afterward, he found out that she had never seen the +letter he wrote, but a very different one, of his friend's concoction. + +"Very soon afterward, they were gone--all three! and, before a year was +passed, he heard that his friend and the daughter were married, and the +father died of a fever contracted in Spain. + +"He tried to go on as usual for several months, but it was no use. At +last, he left his practice, and all his connections, and wandered over +the United States--through towns and wildernesses. He rode across the +plains on a mustang; clambered through the gorges of the Rocky +Mountains; saw the tide come in through the Golden Gate at San +Francisco. He pushed north as far as Canada, and thence came down the +Mississippi to New Orleans. From there he crossed to the Pacific coast +again, and lived to find himself a second time in San Francisco. He +didn't stay there long, but struck overland, slanting southward, and, in +four or five months, appeared at Charleston, South Carolina. So he +worked up the Atlantic coast to New York. By the time he got there, he +was older and wiser, and strengthened, body and mind, by a rough +experience. He resolved to travel no more; but, as yet, it was not in +his power to feel happy. + +"Much had happened in his absence. His friend, after living three or +four years with his wife in Europe, was separated from her--not, +however, by a regular divorce--and she had disappeared, and had not +since been heard of. It was reported that she was dead. She had left +with her husband a son, two or three years old, at that time a sickly +little fellow, scarcely expected to live. It was supposed that the +mother had discovered that it was her money, and not herself, that her +husband cared for, and, perhaps, too, may have imagined him to be still +thinking of his first love, who, indeed, was said to have in some way +fomented the quarrel between them, though how, or to what end, was never +known. She, by-the-way, after an absence of some years from New York, +suddenly reappeared there, and married a wealthy old Knickerbocker, who +died not long afterward, and left her his property. She became eminent +in society, and was intimate with all the most distinguished people. Her +former lover returned from Europe, with his little son, and, I believe, +settled somewhere in the neighborhood of New York. They met, and, I +understand, came to be on very friendly terms with one another, but the +conditions of their lives would have prevented the possibility of +marriage, even had they desired it. + +"Well, it was before the old Knickerbocker's death that he I am telling +you of first arrived in the city. He gave up medicine, and devoted +himself to other studies; and, in the course of a few years, he found +himself occupying the chairs of History and of Science at the University +of New York. He also paid some attention to politics, and became, for a +while, a person of really considerable renown and distinction. He was +respected by the most influential persons in the city. Among the rest, +he became acquainted with the widow--as she was by this time--of the +Knickerbocker--and she showed him every kindness and attention. But he +did her the injustice of not believing her kindness genuine; he imagined +that she cared for nothing but fashion and display, and was polite to +him only because she thought he would add a little to her drawing-rooms. +At length, a sudden weariness of his mode of life coming over him, he +resigned his public positions, and his professorships, and took lodgings +in the family of a poor clergyman in Boston. While there, he took up the +study of divinity, and, before long, was fully qualified for ordination. +But, at this time, he fell, all at once, dangerously ill, and lay at +death's door. + +"He owed his life to the care that the daughter of the clergyman took of +him. She was a sweet, gentle girl, a good deal younger than he; but she +grew to love him--perhaps because she had saved him from death. When he +recovered, they were married, and found a great deal of happiness; there +was no more passionate love, for him, of course; but he could feel +gratitude, and tenderness, and a steady and deep affection. They had two +children, and when they were five or six years old, the parents moved to +the country, and took a house in an out-of-the-way village." + +"Is that all?" demanded Bressant, eying the professor's face with great +intentness. + +"There's not much more. One of the first persons the minister--such he +was now--met, on his entrance into the village, was the woman he had +loved first--the wife of his false friend--she whom he had long believed +dead. She had settled, several years before, in this place, whither he +had unawares followed her. In an interview--the first for nearly half a +lifetime--all the old errors and falsehoods were cleared up. She told +him how her husband's heartlessness and insolent indifference had made +her leave him; and how, for the sake of her son, and partly also out of +pride, she had made no attempt to repossess herself of the fortune with +which she had endowed her husband at their marriage. The hardest of all +had been to leave her son, whom she loved with her whole heart; but he +was sickly, and she dared not expose him to the chances of privation and +hardship, such as she expected to endure. With some three thousand +dollars in her pocket, she had come to America, and since then had +never heard a word of those she had left, nor had they of her. + +"About three years after his arrival, the minister's wife died. He took +his two children, and went with them to New York, where they staid +nearly a year; and the widow of the old Knickerbocker found them out, +and was as cordial as ever. But finally the minister decided to return +to his country dwelling, and there he still remains." + +As Professor Valeyon concluded, he looked toward his auditor, having +been conscious, especially during the latter part of the narrative, of +the peculiar magnetic sensation which the steady glance of the young +man's eyes produced. + +But at the same moment, Bressant turned his head away, and closed his +eyes, as if wearied by the strain which had been imposed upon his +attention. The old gentleman presently arose, and, after a moment's +hesitation, he apparently decided not to disturb or rouse his patient +any further. He could wait until another time for whatever discussion +yet remained. So he betook himself quietly to the door. + +He had nearly closed it when, thinking he heard a sudden call or +exclamation from within, he hastily reopened it, and looked into the +room. But the invalid showed no signs of having spoken. His position was +slightly changed, indeed, but his eyes were still closed, and his face +turned somewhat away from the door. + +"I must have been mistaken," said Professor Valeyon, as he shut himself +into the study. He walked to the table, and, resting one hand upon it, +stood for several moments with his head bent forward, thinking. As he +raised it, a sigh escaped him; nor was his countenance so serene as it +had been half an hour before. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AN INTERMISSION. + + +Bressant's recovery was now very rapid, as he had himself foretold. The +wedding was finally fixed for New-Year's Day at noon. They were to be +married at the Parsonage; afterward they might go South for two or three +months, but it was understood that they would return to the village +before settling permanently anywhere. + +"If there isn't room for us here, we can board at Abbie's; it would be +very pleasant, wouldn't it?" said Sophie; but Bressant made no +rejoinder. + +Professor Valeyon was getting on well beneath the weight of his +prospective loss. He indulged in as many comforting reflections as he +could. Cornelia would still be with him, and he loved her as much in one +way as Sophie in another. He seemed to think, too, that the bride and +groom would probably settle somewhere in the neighborhood. Again, he +felt a greater natural affection for Bressant than for any other young +man; what son-in-law, after all, would he have preferred to have? And +there may have been additional considerations equally pleasant in the +contemplation. + +Sophie was in her element; the loveliness and richness of her character +came out like a sweet, sustaining perfume. In love, all her faculties +found their fullest exercise. There was no doubt nor darkness in her +soul. Without looking upon her lover as an angel, she saw in him the +grand possibilities which human nature still possesses, and felt that +she might aid them somewhat to develop and flourish. + +As for Bressant, originally the least inclined of any of the circle to +be pensive and sombre, he now seemed occasionally to contend with +shadows of some kind. He was far from being habitually gloomy, but his +moods were not to be depended upon; sometimes a turn of the conversation +would seem to alter him; sometimes a word which he himself might utter; +sometimes a silence, which found him light-hearted, would leave him +troubled and restless. Sophie, so strong and trustful was her happiness, +never suspected that any thing more than the fretting of his sickness +was responsible for this, and, indeed, thought little about it at all; +for, after all, what was it compared to the full tide which swept them +both along in such an overmastering harmony? + +Within a week from the day of the engagement, a letter came from +Cornelia, speaking of her desire to be at home again, and further +intimating that she meant to return in a month at farthest. She did not +write with as much liveliness and light-heartedness as usual. Sophie +read the letter aloud to Bressant and her father as they sat in the +former's room on a cool August afternoon. + +"How surprised she will be to hear what has been going on!" said Sophie, +looking for Bressant to sympathize with her smile. "I'll write to her +this evening and tell her all about it." She paused to imagine +Cornelia's delight, astonishment, and playful dismay on learning that +her younger sister, whom nobody ever suspected of such a thing, was +going to be married, and to "that deaf creature," too, whom they had +discussed so freely only two months or so before. "She must know before +anybody," said Sophie; and the professor, as he rubbed his spectacles, +grunted in approval. + +But Bressant chewed his mustache, and said, hastily, the blood reddening +his face: "No, no! wait--wait till she comes back. She can know it +first, still; but you had better tell her with words. You can see, with +your own eyes, then, how--how it pleases her." + +"Yes, that is true," said Sophie, half reluctantly. "Well?" + +Bressant lay silent, with a peering, concentrated look in his eyes, his +brows slightly contracted. He must have had an intuitive foreboding that +this matter of the two sisters would cause some difficulty, but he could +hardly as yet have had a distinct understanding of what jealousy meant. + +Howbeit, the lovers grew every day more intimate. In the earlier days of +her intercourse with him Sophie had felt an involuntary shrinking from +she knew not what, but this had been entirely overcome, partly by habit, +partly from an unconscious resolve on her part not to yield to it. The +quick, intelligent sympathy of her nature discerned and interpreted the +germs of new ideas and impulses which were struggling into life in +Bressant's mind; she translated to him his better part, and warmed it +with a flood of celestial sunshine. + +But the sun which makes flowers bloom brings forth weeds as well, and +it would not be strange if this awakening of Bressant's dormant +faculties should have also brought some evil to the surface which else +might never have seen the light. + +In the course of another week or so the invalid had so far improved as +to be able to leave his room, and make short excursions about the house, +and on to the balcony. The feverish and morbid symptoms faded away, and +the indulgence of a Titanic appetite began to bring back the broad, firm +muscles to arms, legs, and body. He felt the returning exhilaration of +boundless vitality and restless vigor which had distinguished him before +his accident. + +The summer was now something overworn; the sultry dregs of August were +ever and anon stirred by the cool finger of September. The leaves, +losing the green strength of their blood, changed color and fluttered, +wavering earthward from the boughs whereon they had spent so many +sociable months. The surrounding hills seen from the parsonage-balcony +took on subtle changes of tint; the patches of pine and evergreen showed +out more and more distinctly; the over-ripe grass in the valley lay in +lines of fragrant haycocks. + +Every day, in the garden, a greater number of red and yellow leaves +drifted about the paths, or scattered themselves over the flower-beds, +or floated on the surface of the fountain-basin. Little brown birds +hopped backward and forward among the twigs, with quick, jerking tails +and sideway, speculative heads; or upon the ground, pecking at it here +and there with their little bills, as if under the impression that it +was summer's grave, and they might chance to dig her up again. But once +in a while they got discouraged, and took a sudden, rustling flight to +the roof-tree of the barn, seemingly half inclined to continue on +indefinitely southward. Then, a reluctance to leave the old place coming +over them, they would dip back again on their elastic little wings, to +hop and peck anew. + +Bressant and Sophie were sitting one afternoon--it was in the first days +of September, and within less than a week of the time when they might +begin to expect Cornelia--upon the little rustic bench beside the +fountain. Their conversation had filtered softly into silence, and only +the flop-flop of the weak-backed little spout continued to prattle to +the stillness. + +"I don't like it!" exclaimed Bressant, stirring his foot impatiently. +"I'd rather put my whole life into one strong, resistless shooting +upward, even if it lasted only a minute." + +"The poor little fountain is happy enough," said well-balanced Sophie. + +"To do any thing there must sometimes be a heat and fury in the blood; +or a whirl and passion in the brain. Volcanoes reveal the earth's +heart!" returned he, sententiously. + +"They're very objectionable things though," suggested Sophie, arching +her eyebrows. + +"They make beautiful mountains, whole islands, sometimes; in a man, they +show what stuff is in him. It would be better to commit a deadly crime +than to dribble out a life like that fountain's!" + +"Even to speak of sin's bringing forth good, is a fearful and wicked +thing," said Sophie; and, although tears rose to her eyes, her voice was +almost stern. "But you don't know what you say: only think, and you +will shudder at it." + +But Bressant was perverse. "I think any thing is better than to be +torpid. I'd rather know I could never hope for happiness hereafter, than +not have blood enough really to hope or despair at all." + +"Why do you speak so?" asked Sophie, with a look of pain in her grave +little face. "Do you fear any such torpor in your own life? My love, +this hasn't always been so." + +"I feel too much in me to manage, sometimes," said he, leaning forward +on his knees, and working in the sanded path with his foot. "I'm not +accustomed to myself yet: it will come all right, later. My health and +strength, too, so soon after my weakness--they intoxicate me, I think." + +Sophie looked at his broad back and dark curly head, and brown, short +beard, as he sat thus beside her, and she grew pale, and sighed, "It +isn't right, dear," said she, shaking her head. "There is a quiet and +deep strength--not demonstrative--that is better than any passion: it is +less striking, I suppose, but it recognizes more a Power greater than +any we have." + +"It's true--what you say always is true!" responded Bressant, throwing +himself back in the seat. "Sophie," he added, without turning his eyes +upon her, "if I shouldn't turn out all you wish, you won't stop loving +me?" + +"I couldn't, I think, if I tried," replied she; and there was more of +regret than of satisfaction in her tone as she said it. "Or, if I could, +it would tear me all to pieces; and there would be nothing left but my +love to God, which is His already. All of me, except that, is love for +you." + +"God and heaven seem unreal--unsubstantial, at any rate--compared with +you," said Bressant, striking his hand heavily upon the arm of the +rustic bench. "My love for you is greater than for them!" + +"Oh, stop! hush!" cried Sophie, flinching back as if she had received a +mortal thrust. The light of indignation and repulse in her gray eyes was +awful to Bressant, and his own dropped beneath it. "Have you no respect +for your soul?" she continued, presently. "How long would such love +last? in what would it end? it would not be love--it would be the +deadliest kind of hate." + +Bressant rose to his feet, and made a gesture with his arms in the air, +as if striving by a physical act to regain the mental force and +equilibrium which Sophie had so unexpectedly overthrown. The mighty +strength and untamed vehemence of the man's nature were exhibited in the +movement. Sophie saw, in the vision of a moment, on how wild and stormy +a sea she had embarked, and for a moment, perhaps, she quailed at the +sight. But again her great love brought back the flush of dauntless +courage, and her trembling ceased. She became aware, at that critical +moment, that she was the stronger of the two; and Bressant probably felt +it also. He had put forth all his power in a passionate and convulsive +effort to prevail over the soul of this delicate girl, and he had been +worsted in the brief, silent struggle. He did not need to look in her +clear eyes to know it. + +His love must have been strong, indeed; for it stood the test of the +defeat. He sat down again, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation, +he held out his hand toward her. She put her own in it, with its +pressure, soft and delicately strong. + +"I can't reason about these things--I can only feel," said he. "You can +look into my heart if you will. Don't give me up: you can help me to see +it all as you do. Isn't it your duty, Sophie, if you love me?" + +"Oh! I will pray for you, my darling," she answered, almost sobbing in +the tenderness of her great heart, and laying her head upon his broad +shoulder. "I would not lose your love for all the world; but I feared +you might be led to something--something that would prevent your loving +either God or me. Promise me something, dear: if you are ever in trouble +or danger, and I'm not with you, come to me! No harm can reach us when +we're together. You need me, and I you." + +"I promise," replied Bressant. + +In the short silence that followed, Sophie heard, though Bressant could +not, a quick, excited, warbling voice calling her again and again by +name. She released herself from her lover's hold, and sprang up with a +cry of delight. + +Bressant, surprised and defrauded, was about to remonstrate; but ere the +words came, he saw Cornelia appear upon the balcony, and he sank back +and held his peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +BRESSANT CONFIDES A SECRET TO THE FOUNTAIN. + + +Sophie went flitting up the garden-path toward the house, and in a +moment more the sisters were in one another's arms. Bressant, glad of +the concealment afforded by the shrubbery, remained gazing moodily at +the fountain, his head on his hand. The two girls entered the house, and +sat down in the professor's study, where the old gentleman (who had been +the first to meet Cornelia) sat enclouding himself with smoke, but +betraying no other symptom of his huge delight. + +"But how came you to get here so soon, you dear darling?" said Sophie, +looking with lighted eyes at her sister. "We thought it would be a week +at least." + +"Oh, bless your heart, I couldn't wait, you know. So awfully tired I got +of seeing new things and people. Dear me!"--and Cornelia threw herself +back in her chair and uplifted her gloved hands in a little gesture of +ineffability--"you would never imagine what a bore society is, after +all." + +The professor, from his cloud, cast, unobserved, a glance of quiet +scrutiny at his daughter. A certain jaunty embroidery of tone and manner +struck him at once--she wasn't quite the same simple little woman who +had gone to New York two months ago. Well, well, they would wear off, +perhaps, these little affectations; and then, too, it was not to be +expected of her that she'd be a girl all her life. They all must needs +pass through this stage to something better--or worse: all women of pith +and passion like Cornelia. + +"How did you leave Aunt Margaret?" inquired he. + +"Oh, _desolee_, because I would go away," replied Cornelia, with a very +pretty laugh. "She vowed she could have spared me much better six weeks +earlier; for, you see, after I'd learned the ropes, and how to take care +of myself, I became, as she expressed it, 'such a dear, sweet, +_invaluable_ little _attachee_.'" + +Sophie laughed at the comical air with which her sister repeated the +sentence; yet, when her laugh was gone, there remained a slight shadow +of disappointment. She, too, was unwillingly aware of some alteration. + +"Is she such a grand lady as you expected?" asked she. + +"Oh, my dear, grandeur's a humbug, let me tell you. Gracious! by the +time I'd been there a week, I could put it on as well as anybody. Aunt +Margaret, she was no end of a swell, and all that; but, as for +grandeur!--And she was such an odd old thing. Sometimes I seemed to like +her, and sometimes she almost made me faint. Once in a while I thought +she was trying to pump me about something; though, to be sure, there was +nothing in me to be pumped. I told her about Abbie, for one thing, as +much as I knew, and she seemed awfully interested--it was put on, I +suppose, very likely; and yet she really did seem to mean it. I remember +she couldn't get over my forgetting Abbie's last name: she even told me +to mention it the first time I wrote to her. So queer of the old +person." + +"No necessity for you to write, my dear," observed the professor at this +point. "I've been intending to do it myself for some time, and I'll +thank her for her hospitality, and so forth." + +Cornelia nodded, yawned, and then allowed her eyes to wander around the +room. + +"How nice and cozy and home-like every thing does look! And so small. +Why, I should almost believe I was looking through the small end of the +telescope, or something." + +"New York houses are so big, I suppose?" said Sophie. + +"Gracious, dear!" exclaimed Cornelia, laughing again. "Why, the very +cupboards are bigger than this whole house. It'll take me ever so long +to get over being afraid to knock my head against something when I stand +up." + +"You can sit out-doors until the weather gets too cold," observed the +professor. "The sky is as high here as in New York, isn't it?" + +Cornelia ignored this remark with admirable self-poise. "Aunt Margaret +was asking a good deal about Mr. Bressant, too," said she. "She said +she'd only heard about him from you, papa; but I thought, sometimes, she +must be fibbing. Once in a while, you know, she acted just as if she had +forgotten having said she didn't know him. However, that's absurd, of +course. By-the-way, where is he? Here still?" + +"Oh, yes. O Neelie dear, I have such news to tell you. But--yes, he's +out there by the fountain, I believe. Go out and speak to him, and then +come up to my room and hear the secret." + +"All right, I'll be there directly;" and, springing from her chair with +a sudden overflow of animal spirits, drowning out the small growth of +affectation, the beautiful woman danced out upon the balcony, and down +the steps. Sophie went to her chamber, and the professor remained in his +study to indulge his own thoughts, which, by the way, appeared to be +neither light nor agreeable. + +As Cornelia neared the fountain, her steps grew more staid. The +clustering shrubbery hid Bressant from sight until she was close upon +him. She thought, perhaps, in the few moments that passed as she walked +down the path, of that other time when she had picked her way, in his +company, between the rain-besprinkled shrubs. Here was the same tea-rose +bush, and hardly a flower left upon it. Yes, here was one, full-blown, +to be sure, and ready to fall to pieces; but still, perhaps he would +smile and remember when he saw it in her bosom; or perhaps--and Cornelia +smiled secretly to herself at the thought--perhaps he needed no +reminder. He was sitting by the fountain now. What more likely than that +he was thinking over that first strange scene that had been enacted +between them there? Dear fellow! how he would start and redden with +pleasure when he saw her appear, in flesh and blood, in the midst of his +reverie! Cornelia blushed; but some of the loose petals of the overblown +rose in her bosom became detached, and floated earthward. + +All at once her heart began to beat so as to incommode her: she was +uncertain whether she was pale or red. It seemed to require all her +courage to get over the last few steps of garden-path that brought her +into view. What was it? A premonition? Now she saw him, as he sat with +his legs crossed, his head resting on his hand, turned away from her, +staring moodily before him. + +He did not look up until Cornelia stood almost beside him; then, become +aware of her presence, he leaped suddenly to his feet, and towered +before her, one hand grasping the fantastically-curved limb which +ornamented the back of the rustic seat. + +In the space that intervened while Cornelia, startled at his abrupt +movement, remained motionless in front of him, the piece of branch which +his hand held parted with a sharp crack. It broke the pause, and +Cornelia laughed. + +"You seem to be recovering your strength pretty well, if you can break +the limb of a tree short off just by laying your hand upon it! How do +you do? Aren't you glad to see me?" and she held out her hand with a +frankness not all real, for she felt a secret misgiving, and an +undefined fear. + +But the strain of Bressant's suspense was removed. He concluded that +either Cornelia had as yet heard nothing of his bond with Sophie, or +that, having heard it, it had not seriously affected her. Of the two +suppositions he was inclined to the first (and correct) one; but he kept +scanning her face with an uneasy curiosity. He took her hand, shook it, +and dropped it. + +"How do you do?" said he. + +They took their places side by side upon the bench. Cornelia felt a +great weight pressing heavily and more heavily upon her, crushing out +life and vivacity. This was not what she had expected; what did it +mean? was it indifference? was it aversion? could it--could it be an +uncouth way of showing joy? Poor Cornelia held her clasped hands in her +lap, and knew not what to say. + +When the silence had lasted so long that in another moment she must have +screamed, she chanced to remember the watch. It was ticking steadily in +her belt. She dragged it out, her hands feeling stiff and numb, and then +commanding herself by a not inconsiderable effort to speak naturally, +she put it in his hand, which he opened mechanically to receive it. + +"Here it is, all safe. You can't think how punctual I've learned to be +since I've had it. I got to be quite superstitious about winding it up; +but it did run down once--just about six weeks after I left. It was in +the forenoon, about eleven. I--I happened to be looking at it at the +time, and suddenly the second-hand began to go slower and slower, and at +last it stopped. You can't think how frightened I was. I couldn't help +thinking that something must have happened at home. I wrote to Sophie +that I would come home the same afternoon. Of course you know"--here +Cornelia interrupted the hurried and nervous flow of her words to force +a laugh--"of course it wasn't any thing but that I'd been up late +talking with Aunt Margaret, and had forgotten to wind it. It isn't out +of order or any thing." + +She was out of breath now, and had to pause. She would gladly have kept +on indefinitely, for the sake of avoiding another of those dreadful +silences. + +Bressant was not in the habit of paying much attention to coincidences, +but it happened to occur to him that the stoppage of the watch must have +taken place pretty nearly, if not exactly, at the time of his engagement +to Sophie, and the thought rendered his discomposure still more painful. + +"Won't you keep the watch?" said he at length. + +"Keep it?" repeated Cornelia, timidly, uncertain what might be coming +nest. Her breath went and came unevenly. "How can I keep it?" faltered +she. "They know--papa and Sophie know--that I haven't any such watch. +I--I have no right to keep it." + +She could hardly have spoken more plainly; indeed, she had been +surprised into speaking much more plainly than she intended. The moment +after her pride rebuked her, and made her cheeks burn with shame; and a +feeling of anger at having so betrayed herself put a sparkle into her +eyes. Bressant, looking at her, was stricken by the angry glow of her +beauty. It began to dazzle his reason, and bind his will. Their eyes met +fully for a moment; a world of fatal significance can sometimes be +conveyed by a glance. The extremity of his danger perhaps aroused the +young man to a realization of it. He stood up, and pressed one hand over +his eyes. + +"If you've no right to keep the watch, I've no right to give it you, I +suppose," said he, sullenly. + +"I owe you an apology, certainly, Mr. Bressant," exclaimed Cornelia, +interrupting what more he might have been going to say. She was tingling +to her fingertips with the intolerable anger of a woman who finds +herself rejected and befooled. "Really, I am surprised at myself for +persecuting you so relentlessly. Not satisfied with depriving you of +your timepiece for two whole months, I actually am unable to surrender +my--my ill-gotten booty without giving you an uncomfortable feeling that +I want to task your beneficence further yet. Well, I've not a word to +say for myself. I had no grudge to pay. I'm sure your conduct to me has +always been--most unexceptionably polite! The most charitable +explanation is, that I was crazy. I hope you'll consent to accept it; +and I do assure you that I'm perfectly sane now, and mean to keep so. +You needn't," she continued laughing, "you really needn't be afraid of +my persecutions any longer. I'm going to be as circumspect as--as you +are. Now, good-by for the present." She held out her hand with an air of +formal courtesy. "I promised Sophie I'd be back directly. I'll see you +at dinner, I suppose?" + +As she came to the good-by, Cornelia had risen from her seat; by the +action the remaining petals of the tea-rose had been shaken off, leaving +the nucleus bare and unprotected. Bressant's eyes fastened idly upon it, +but he said nothing, and did not move, Cornelia withdrew her unaccepted +hand, smiled, and, turning about, walked up the path to the house with +an easy and dignified grace, which was not so much natural as the +inspired result of passion. + +Bressant looked down at the watch in his hand, and saw it marking the +hour at which a dark epoch in his life began. He knelt on one knee by +the basin of the fountain--but not to pray. Grasping in one hand the +guard-chain of his watch, he dashed the watch itself two or three times +against the stone basin-rim. When it was completely shattered, he tossed +it into the water, and then rose lightly to his feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. + + +Sophie, in her room, was moving about hither and thither, ostensibly to +put things in order, but really to make the time before her sister's +appearance pass the easier. She was little given to the manifestation of +impatience; but now, so much did she long to pour out her heart to her +sister on the subject of her love; to speak with a freedom which she +could use to no one else--not even to Bressant himself--and to receive +the full and satisfying measure of sympathy which she felt that only +Cornelia could give her--dear, loving, joyous Cornelia!--so much did all +these things press upon her, that she found waiting a very tedious +affair. + +At last she heard Cornelia's step along the hall, and up the staircase. +It sounded more slow and listless than a few minutes before, as if she +were treading under the weight of a weary load. Now that she was out of +Bressant's eyeshot, the support afforded by her anger had given way, and +she felt very tired, very reckless, and rather grim. She entered +Sophie's open door, crossed the room heavily, and, with scarcely a +glance at her sister, threw herself plump into the chair by the window. + +"Poor child," thought Sophie; "she's so tired with that long journey; +but she'll be refreshed by what I have to tell her." + +"I'm so glad you're here," she continued, aloud. "I've never wanted any +one so much,-especially since the last two weeks. A great happiness has +come to me, dear, but I haven't been able fully to enjoy it, because I +couldn't tell you--they didn't want me to write. But I wouldn't tell any +one before you, nor let any one tell you but me, because I wanted to +enjoy your enjoyment all myself." + +Sophie had sat down at Cornelia's feet, upon a little wooden cricket +which stood in the window, and had taken one of her hands in both of +hers. Cornelia glanced down at her somewhat indifferently; she had +scarcely attended to what her sister had been saying. But the fathomless +expression of happiness upon Sophie's uplifted face struck through her +gloom and pain. She had never seen any thing like it before, and +probably at no moment of her life had Sophie's earthly content been so +complete. + +"I am engaged to be married," said she, a rose-colored flush spreading +over her cheeks. She delayed lovingly over the words--they were dear, +because they expressed such a world of happiness. + +Cornelia repeated the words stupidly. She felt as if she were rooted +beneath a rock, which was about to fall and crush her. Yet, resolutely +shutting her eyes to what she knew must come--to gain an instant's time +to breathe and brace herself--she asked, with an air of vivacious +interest, bending down, and studying Sophie's face the while-- + +"Engaged, did you say? To whom, dear?" + +"Why, to Mr. Bressant. Who else could it be?" + +Sophie spoke in a soft tone of gentle surprise, but the words rang in +Cornelia's brain as if they had been fired from a cannon. She closed her +eyes, and leaned back in her chair. The strings of her hat choked +her--she tore them apart, and the hat fell from her nerveless hand to +the floor. She strove to open her eyes and command herself, but her +sight was blurred and darkened, and her head dizzy. + +In a minute or two, however, she recovered herself sufficiently to be +aware that Sophie was alarmed about her. The imperative necessity not to +betray herself gave her a brief and superficial control. Her mind was in +confusion, and it was, perhaps, for this reason--because she could not +collect her faculties and analyze the situation--that she was enabled to +feel a gush of the natural, tender love for her sister--a joy in her +joy. Knowing that such a mood could not last long, she hastened to make +it available: she bent down, and put her arms around Sophie's neck. + +"I'm so glad, darling! so happy! How splendid! isn't it? What a perfect +match! Ah, Sophie, I sympathize with you with all my heart. I couldn't +have wished you any thing better." + +This was doing very well. Her manner was a little exaggerated; her +speech was hurried, and almost mechanical. She avoided looking Sophie in +the face while the lies were coming out of her mouth (if they were real +lies, and not a bastard kind of truth, good while spoken, and the next +moment degenerating into falsehood). Notwithstanding these minor +defects, it was a very successful effort--excitement, and even vehement +emotion, were quite admissible in a warm-hearted girl who had her +sister's welfare nearly at heart, and much might be allowed to +surprise. Indeed, Sophie, though a good deal agitated, and even anxious, +was not in the least suspicious or dissatisfied. Such was the loyalty +and humility of her own nature, that much stronger grounds would have +failed to inspire misgivings. + +"I thought you were going to be ill, at first," she remarked, with a +loving smile. "Perhaps I told you too abruptly--did I? You see, I +thought you half knew it already--at least, that you suspected it--and, +then, to tell the truth, dear," added she, with a bright smile in her +eyes, "I didn't think you'd care so much--be so _very_ glad, I mean. +There never was so sweet a sister as you." + +Cornelia felt that this must not go on any longer. She could feel her +cheeks getting hot, and her eyes bright--very little more, and there +would be an outburst. She must leave the room at all hazards, and be by +herself. + +She got up, and stood unsteadily, with her cold hand to her hot +forehead. + +"I believe I _don't_ feel very well, Sophie. I think I must have a +little palpitation, or something. I've been awfully dissipated, and all +that, you know, with Aunt Margaret. I feel a little run down. Oh! it's +nothing serious. Don't tell papa! no--don't on any account. I'll just go +to my room, and lie down for half an hour. I shall be all right before +tea-time. You must tell me all the particulars afterward--not just this +moment. Don't mention any thing about me, you know, and don't let any +one come up. Good-by till supper, dear. _Au revoir_." + +She got out of the room, not very gracefully, probably, but still she +escaped. A few hurried and uneven steps down the entry brought her to +her own door. She burst it open, entered, and locked it behind her in +feverish haste. Then, with a miserable sense of luxury, she flung +herself on the bed, and was alone. + +Her first sensation, as soon as the tumult in her thoughts suffered her +to have any intelligent sensation at all, was one of secret pleasure and +relief. It was a surprise to herself--she even struggled against it, and +tried to convince herself that she was only miserable, but still the +sensation remained. Guilty or not, there it was, and she could not help +it. The news of Bressant's engagement to Sophie was a relief and a +pleasure to her. + +The real pain--hard and bitter, and with no redeeming grain of +consolation--had been the unexpected and unexplained change in his +manner. She had met him, anticipating a tender and delicious renewal of +the relations on which they had parted--the memory of which had never +left her during her absence, and which had grown every day sweeter and +more precious in the recollection. His silence and coldness, +unaccompanied by any show of reasons, had penetrated her soul like iron. +It could only be that she had become distasteful to him, that what he +had said and done before her departure had been in a spirit of +deliberate trifling, or, at the best, that it had been a mistake, of +which he had been convinced during their separation, and now wished to +correct. The pride and resentment that were in her had risen up in +defence, and, had the matter rested there, might ultimately have gained +the victory. + +But his engagement to Sophie--that was another story. In the first +place, if he loved her sister, it did not therefore follow that he +disliked her; quite the contrary. And, on the other hand, it readily +explained the restraint and embarrassment of his manner. How otherwise +could he have acted? Well--and was this all? + +Ah! no--not all! There was a tawny light in Cornelia's eyes as she lay +upon the bed, flushed and dishevelled. She was thinking of a +moment--that one little moment--when their glances had met, and +penetrated to a fatal depth. For a time, the ensuing events had swept it +from her memory; but now it returned, charged with a deeper and darker +meaning than Cornelia at present cared to recognize. She was satisfied +that it gave her comfort. She hid her thought away, as a miser does his +gold: it was enough that it had existence, and could be used when the +fitting hour should come. She had not seen the little episode of the +watch; but that was, perhaps, scarcely necessary. + +The intensity of the beautiful woman's reflections at length exhausted +her mind's power of maintaining them: she turned over on her side, and +began to follow with her eye the arabesques worked upon the white +counterpane. It was just the sort of occupation which suited her mood. +The arabesques were pretty and graceful; the counterpane was of +immaculate whiteness; there was just enough of effort in tracing out the +intricacies of the interlacements to give a gentle sensation of +pleasure; and there was the latent consciousness, behind this voluntary +trifling, that it could be exchanged at any moment for the most terribly +real and absorbing excitement. + +At length it occurred to her that time was passing, and the hour for tea +must be near at hand. She sat up on the bed, threw off her light sack, +and unbuttoned her boots. Going to the glass, she saw that her hair was +in disorder, and partly fallen down, and that one cheek was stamped with +the creases of the pillow. She pulled off her gloves, and looked +critically at her hands. + +"It'll never do to go down this way!" determined she. "I must make +myself decent." + +In half an hour more she was finished, and took a parting peep at +herself in the mirror. Cold water and a soft sponge had taken from her +face all traces of travel and emotion. Her dark, crisp hair was arranged +in marvelous convolutions, and from the white tip of each ear, peeping +out beneath, hung an Etruscan gold ear-ring, given her by Aunt Margaret. +Her cheeks were pale, but not colorless; her eyes glowed like a tiger's. +She was dressed in a black demi-toilet, relieved with glimpses of yellow +here and there; an oblong piece cut out in front revealed, through +softened edges of lace, the clear, smooth flesh of the neck and bosom. +The dream of a perfume hovered about her, and touched the air as she +moved. Her wide sleeve fell open, as she raised her arm, disclosing the +white curves, which were remarkably full and firm for one of her age. + +She gave a little laugh as she stood there that made the ear-rings +quiver, and parted her lips enough to show that her small white teeth +were set edge to edge. + +"It can't do any harm," was passing through her mind. "If I'm to be his +sister, he ought to like me. It's no use making him detest me. If he +loves Sophie so much, what harm can it do for him to be pleased with my +beauty? Besides, haven't I a right to my own good looks?" + +She kissed her fingers to her reflection, and made a deep courtesy. As +she did so, she caught sight of the little petal-less rose-stalk which +had fallen out of her traveling-dress on to the floor. She picked it up, +and, after turning it idly in her fingers for a moment, she yielded to a +sudden fancy, and fastened it into the bosom of her dress; so that this +symbol of a body from which the soul had departed formed the central and +crowning ornament of the voluptuous and lovely woman. + +"There!" ejaculated she, with a smile which did not part her lips, but +seemed to draw her dark eyebrows a little closer together. + +"Strange I'm so quiet!" she mused, as she walked slowly to the door. +"What an ordeal I have to go through! I must sit down with Sophie, and +papa, and--him: listen to all the particulars, ask all the proper and +necessary questions, smile and laugh; and it would be well, I suppose, +to rally the lovers archly on the ardor of their affection, and the +suddenness of the consummation. Better still, I can laughingly allude to +my own prior claim--suggest that I feel hurt at being distanced and left +out in the cold by that demure little younger sister of mine! Oh, yes!" +exclaimed Cornelia, clapping her hands together, "that will cap the +climax; what fun!" + +Here the tea-bell rang. Cornelia put her hand on the door-handle. + +"Of course, nobody could help loving Sophie--such a dear, simple, good +little thing! and why not he as well as any one else? and, of course, in +that case, Sophie must think that she loved him back--thought it her +duty, too, perhaps! Nobody was to blame." + +"But he was mine first!" she whispered to her heart, again and again, +and she found a disastrous solace in each repetition. She flung open the +door, and ran down-stairs with a light step, a smiling face, and a +fierce, tight heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +LOCKED UP. + + +Bressant's health was now sufficiently established to warrant his moving +back to Abbie's. Not that he was particularly anxious to go, but he had +no pretext for staying, and his engagement to Sophie was a reason in +etiquette why he should not. Accordingly, about a week after Cornelia's +arrival, such of his books and other property as had been sent to him +from the boarding-house were packed in a box, which was hoisted in to +the back of the wagon; he and Professor Valeyon mounted the seat, and, +with Dolly between the shafts, they set out for the village. + +"I suppose you remember a talk I had with you the first evening you came +here?" said the old gentleman, as they turned the corner in the road. +"Told you it would be work enough for a churchful of missionaries to +make any thing out of you, in the way of a minister, and so on?" + +"Very well; I remember the whole conversation," said Bressant, pushing +up his beard into his mouth and biting it. + +"Thanks to God--I can't take any credit to myself--you've been more +changed than I ever expected to see you. You've found your heart and how +to use it. That goes further toward fitting you for the ministry than +all the divinity-books ever printed." + +Bressant's hankering after the ministerial life was not so strong as it +once had been; but he said nothing. + +"You'll need means of support when you're married," resumed the +professor. "A few months' hard study will qualify you to take charge of +a parish. The next parish to this will be vacant before next spring. If +I apply for it now, I may be able to give it you, with your wife, as a +New-Year's gift." + +"I thought of getting a place in New York. What could I do in a country +parish?" + +"Expensive, living in New York!" said the professor, with a glance of +quiet scrutiny at his companion's profile. "Marriage won't be a good +pecuniary investment for you, remember. Better begin safe. The village +salary will be good enough." + +Bressant communed with himself in silence a few moments, before +replying: + +"As my father's will stands, Mrs. Vanderplanck--I believe he owed some +obligation or other to her--receives half the fortune, and I the other +half. Are you certain that my marriage, and the disclosure it would +bring about, will forfeit the whole of it?" + +Professor Valeyon touched Dolly with the whip, and turned inward his +white-bearded lips. + +"All I can tell you about it," said he, "is this: when your mother +married your father, all her property was settled upon her; so that it +was only the event of her death, intestate, that could have given your +father the right to will it away at all." + +At this information, Bressant folded his arms, and, looking steadfastly +before him, said not a word. A silence followed between the two, which +lasted over half a mile. Dolly seemed to be in a meditative humor, +likewise; she whisked her tail with an absorbed air, and once in a while +shook her ears, or wagged her head, as though accepting or rejecting +some hypothesis or proposition. Most likely, her problems found their +solution in the manger that afternoon; but those of the professor and +his companion received neither so early nor so satisfactory a +settlement. + +When they had entered upon the willow-stretch, where the trees had +already scattered upon the ground their first tribute of narrow golden +leaves, the younger man came to the end of his meditations, straightened +himself in his seat, and spoke: + +"Let it be as you said about the country parish; if you can get it for +me, I'll be ready for it." + +Professor Valeyon's face, which had been somewhat overcast, cleared +beautifully; he appealed to Dolly's sympathies with a flick of the whip, +to which she responded with a knowing shake of the head, and a +refreshing increase of speed. + +"That's well, my dear boy," said he. "I respect you." + +"I'm not the only one concerned," continued Bressant, who still sat in +the same position, with folded arms; "it involves about as much for Mrs. +Vanderplanck as for me. I shall have to consider that point, and attend +to it first of all." + +"To tell you the truth," returned Professor Valeyon, with an emphatic +deliberation of manner, "I don't think you can give her any information +that she's not possessed of already. She knows as much as you do, that's +certain. You'll do well to begin business nearer home than at Mrs. +Vanderplanck's." + +Bressant lifted one hand to his beard, which he twisted about +unmercifully. "It's only since Cornelia came back that you have thought +that," he said, at length, with sudden keenness. + +The old gentleman nodded, and met steadily the rapid glance which the +other gave him. + +"At all events," the latter resumed presently, "she don't know that I +know, and she don't know what I intend. It's not a pleasant business, +altogether--understand? You know how I've been brought up. It isn't so +easy for me to fall into the right sentiments as it might be for other +men. And--I feel it to be a private matter; I ought to go about it +alone, and in my own way. Now"--here he turned around, and changed his +tone, watching the professor's countenance as he spoke, "are you willing +to leave it entirely in my hands?--promise not to question me, nor to +speak to me, nor to anybody else, until it's all settled?" + +"More than willing, my dear boy! more than satisfied; you shall have a +clear field, that's certain. I sha'n't do any thing--sha'n't say a word, +meanwhile; shall wait with perfect confidence till you're ready to +report, whenever and however you please." + +"I should like to make you a present on my wedding-day, in return for +the parish, you know. Will that be soon enough?" and the young man met +the elder's eye with a sharp look of significance. + +"No more fitting time, no more fitting time," replied Professor Valeyon. +The old gentleman's heart was full; he shifted the reins to his right +hand, and laid his left upon Bressant's, which he pressed with much +feeling. Perhaps it was of bad omen thus to seal a bargain with the left +hand, but no misgivings of the sort troubled the professor. He felt more +at ease than at any time since his pupil first sprang up the steps of +the Parsonage-porch. + +But Bressant, if he were a child in the world of the affections, was, in +other respects, a man of exceptional shrewdness and comprehensive +ability. Although he had never as yet turned his attention to business +matters, he had every faculty and instinct required to make a successful +business-man. When he found his own interests deeply at stake, he may +have had more than one motive for wishing to secure to himself a clear +field. But Professor Valeyon was still as simple-hearted a soul--as +quick to trust wherever his sympathies dictated--as ever in his younger +days. + +Bressant did not intend to deceive him, but then he had no irrevocably +settled plans. He was not one of those who follow blindfold the +promptings of any principle, simply because it chances to be a lofty +one. Although passionate, and hot of blood, he could believe that the +greatest good might be made not inconsistent with the greatest comfort. +He undoubtedly intended to do what honor, generosity, and his future +father-in-law, urged him to do; but it was less from an abstract love of +virtue, than from an overmastering unwillingness to give up Sophie (his +affection for whom was the most deeply-seated necessity of his nature--a +fact which must be borne in mind through all that follows), and +also--this was likewise a consideration of the greatest weight; indeed, +Sophie alone counted for more--also, from a very confident conviction +that, after every thing had been accomplished, according to the highest +dictates of truth, and justice, and all that--he would not, to all +intents and purposes, lose his fortune after all; that, whatever might +be the legal disposition of it, all the enjoyments and benefits that it +could confer would still be his, with the additional grace of having +acted in a most lofty and self-sacrificing spirit; that, in short, and +to use a homely illustration, he would be able to give away his cake and +eat it too. + +After being safely landed at the boarding-house--Abbie was not at home +at the moment--Bressant bade farewell to the professor, and, assisted by +the fat Irish servant-girl, carried his box up to his room. It was +neatly swept, dusted, and put in order; a bunch of fresh flowers upon +the table; others, in pots, upon the window-sill. Their fragrance gave a +delicate tone to the atmosphere of the room, and perhaps penetrated more +nearly to Bressant's heart than an hour full of unanswerable arguments +and exhortations. He turned to the fat servant, who stood smiling, and +wiping her hands on her apron. + +"Who brought these flowers? Who arranged them here?" + +"Sure, and wasn't it Abbie herself!" replied the functionary, giving her +mistress her Christian name, with true democratic freedom. "More than +that; isn't it herself has swept out the room every week, let alone +dusting of it every day of her life! which is not mentioning that the +flowers has been exchanged every day likewise, and fresh put in place of +them, by reason that the old shouldn't fade; which is a fact +unprecedented, and unbeknown in my experience, which have been in this +house nine year come St. Patrick's day--God bless him!" + +Having thus delivered herself of what had evidently been weighing on her +mind for weeks past, the fat servant-girl stopped wiping her hands on +her apron (without help of which praiseworthy act she could no more have +talked, than a donkey with a heavy stone tied to his tail can bray), and +turning herself about, waddled toward the door. Bressant hesitated a +moment, passed his hand rapidly down over his face and beard, and then, +catching open the door just as the fat servant-girl was closing it, he +requested her to inform Abbie, when she came back, of his return, and +tell her he would like to speak with her. + +"I'll do it, sir; rest easy," was the encouraging reply. "Faith, and +it's a handsome man he is, and a sweet, lovely look he has out of his +eyes; leastways now, which is, maybe, more than could be said when first +he came here, three months ago, and looked that cold and sharp at a body +as might make one shiver like. It's likely his being going to marry Miss +Sophie up to the Parsonage as has fetched a change in him; which, she's +a dear good girl; and may they be happy--God bless the both of them!" +Thus soliloquizing, the fat servant-girl, apron in hand, descended the +narrow stairs, and betook herself to the kitchen. + +Bressant paced restlessly up and down his small room, stopping every +minute or so to bend over the flower-pots in the window, or take a sniff +from the bouquet on the table. His cheeks and forehead were flushed, and +his eyes very brilliant. His lips worked incessantly against one +another, and he held his hands now clasped behind his back, now thrust +into the pockets of his coat. But there was certainly a noble and a +gentle light upon his features, different from their usual expression of +dazzling intellectual efficiency, different from the passionate fire +which Cornelia's presence had more than once caused to flicker over +them, different even from the purer and deeper illumination which his +love for Sophie sometimes kindled within him. A virtuous act stirs the +soul by its own innate beauty, even when the motive is not all +unselfish. It was probably the first time that precisely such a look had +ever visited Bressant's face; and it was certainly a great pity that no +one but a fat Irish servant-girl should have had the privilege of +beholding it there. + +Presently, as he stood facing the door, he saw the latch lifted. The +moment had come. Involuntarily he caught hold of the back of the chair, +and drew in his breath. + +Pshaw! only the fat servant again. Bressant bit his lip, stamped his +foot upon the floor, and frowned. + +The fat girl met these demonstrations with a fat smile, and extended to +the young man a long, narrow envelop, laid crossways over the dirty palm +of her large, thick hand. + +"A letter!" exclaimed she, resuming her apron as soon as her hand was at +liberty. "A letter from New York I'm thinking it is; and sure the +handwriting's a lady's, every bit of it; which I don't know what Miss +Sophie would be after saying if she should hear of it--nay, don't fear +me, sir, that I'd ever have the heart to be telling her of it! And it's +Abbie as fetched it, and the same bid me tell you as how she'd be after +coming up here directly; she'll be cleaning her face first, and +removing her bonnet; which she's always a right neat body, and it's +myself can testify, as has lived with her nine years, and never had +cause to complain, God bless her!" + +When Bressant was alone, he sat down in the chair, with the letter +between his fingers. On such slight hinges do our destinies turn. If +Abbie had neglected to call at the post-office, or if she had been +satisfied to give the letter to the young man herself, instead of +sending it to him five minutes beforehand, or if the writing of the +letter had been delayed a few hours (how many _ifs_ there always are in +such cases!), Bressant would have had a far different fate, and this +story would never have been written. But as it was, five fatal minutes +intervened between the delivery of the letter and Abbie's appearance, +during which time he had read it through twice--at first hurriedly, the +second time slowly and carefully--had replaced it in the envelop, and +put the envelop in his pocket. Then he sat quite quiet, leaning back in +his chair, his head thrown forward, his under eyelids drawn up, and +contracted around the piercing glance of his eves, his jaws and lips set +tight, and a straight line up his forehead from between his eyebrows. A +more unpleasant and forbidding expression one does not often meet; but, +such as it was, it grew still more stern and unpromising when the door +once more slowly opened, and Abbie appeared upon the threshold. + +Nevertheless, he at once rose, and inclined forward his lofty shoulders +in a remarkably courteous bow. Abbie, who showed some traces of +discomposure, and held one finger nervously to her under lip, stepped +into the room, and they shook hands. + +"I'm glad to welcome you back," said she, apparently unable to remove +her eyes from his face. "You'll not likely find this place as convenient +as the Parsonage, though." + +"It's very pleasant; these flowers are delightful. I wanted to thank you +for them; it seems like home to be here." + +"Like home!" repeated Abbie. Her body seemed to bend and sway toward +him, and the outer extremity of the eyebrows drooped a little, giving a +singularly soft and gentle expression to her elderly visage. But seeing +that he only colored, turning his head aside, and fumbling with his +beard, her expression changed into one of constraint, which appeared to +stiffen on her features. + +"I'm glad you like the flowers; I didn't know as you cared for such +things. I thought if you were ill they might be pleasant to you. But +you're looking very well, sir, for one who has had so severe an +accident." + +"Oh, yes; I'm as well as ever. I've had very good nursing." + +"Yes--yes," she said, slowly; "it was better you should be there; you +couldn't have been so well cared for here. I told Professor Valeyon so +at the time. I knew you'd feel happier there--more at home. It's all for +the best--all for the best, in the end." She rattled the keys in her +girdle before proceeding, with a distraught, embarrassed manner: +"By-the-way, you had something more than good nursing to help you to +health, I heard. Is it Cornelia--or Sophie?" + +Bressant hesitated and stammered--a weakness he seldom was guilty of, +especially when there was so little reason for it as at present. + +"It's--I'm--oh!--Sophie!" said he. + +"I heard it was Sophie, but I thought likely as not it was a mistake of +one for another. Sophie," repeated she, musingly, "that sweet, delicate +little angel. Oh, I should fear, I should fear! Cornelia would have been +better--not so sensitive--she can bear more--and who knows?--No; but I +do him wrong; he loves her: she'll be happy; she can't help it!" + +Here Abbie became aware that she had been thinking aloud; her hand +sought her mouth, and she glanced apprehensively at Bressant. But he had +evidently heard nothing of the latter part of her speech, which was +spoken in a low tone. He had taken a flower from the bunch on the table, +and was pulling it ruthlessly to pieces. He did not look up. Abbie, +rattling her keys, retired toward the door. + +"I'll bid you good-morning, sir. A house-keeper always must be busy, you +know; and, of course, you can't afford to be disturbed. You need never +fear any disturbance from me--never, I assure you. By-the-way, you +received your letter? I gave it to the servant, instead of waiting to +bring it myself, because I thought it might be important." + +"Oh, yes, I have it; no--no importance at all. Good-morning." + +Abbie walked hurriedly and unevenly to her room, shut herself in, and +fastened the door. She sat down on a chair which stood by the +old-fashioned desk in the corner, and it seemed to her she could not +rise from it again. A faintness was upon her, which she thought might, +perhaps, be death. There was a sensation within her as if a clock had +run down in her head, and had dropped the heavy weight into her heart. +She could feel the paleness of her face, and the drops of moisture on +her forehead. Her breathing was wellnigh imperceptible. She sat quite, +still, in a kind of awful expectation, as if listening for the echoless +footfall of Death. But he passed by on the other side, and left her to +face her life again. + +She felt rather tired of it, as she sat up and looked dimly around her. +Putting her hand in the pocket of her dark dress, she drew out the small +square morocco case which contained the daguerreotype. It was rather +mortifying, certainly: every one knows what it is to appear, dressed for +a party, and find you have mistaken the night. In what pleasant little +episode had Abbie flattered herself that this portrait, with its grave, +dark, baby eyes, its soft, light curls, its slender, solemn little face, +might be going to play a part? No matter: the hope was gone by; and +every day the portrait faded more and more indistinguishably into the +dark background. Abbie looked at it a moment or two only, then closed +the case, and carefully fastened the two little hooks which kept it +shut. Opening the old-fashioned desk, she put the daguerreotype in its +little drawer, and locked it up. She held the key--a small brass +key--between her finger and thumb, meditating. Presently she went to the +window, opened it, and looked out. Beneath, a little to one side, stood +a huge black water-butt, half buried in the earth, and partly full of +rain-water, contributed by the tin spout whose mouth opened above it. +Into this butt Abbie dropped the key. It struck the water with a faint +pat, and disappeared, causing two or three circles to expand to the +edges of the butt, against which they disappeared also. + +She did not immediately draw back, but remained leaning with her arms +upon the window-sill. It was a beautiful, cool, September morning, such +as makes breathing and eyesight luxurious. The fat Irish girl sat on the +back steps, peeling potatoes for dinner. On the step by her side was a +large earthen bowl, into which she put the potatoes, while throwing the +skins into the swill-pail on her right. She was obliged to give her +whole mind to the operation, there being a danger lest, in rapid +working, she should happen to throw the potato into the swill-pail, and +put the skin into the earthen bowl. She was much too absorbed to notice +the beautiful weather, even had she been inclined to do so; but it +remained beautiful, nevertheless. + +"I'd be a fool to find fault with him," said Abbie to herself. "How can +I expect him to see any thing in me, more than I can see myself in the +looking-glass? And then, he loves Sophie, and perhaps he thinks I'd rob +her; the Lord knows I only coveted the luxury of giving away my own, and +seeing them happy with it. Well, he may set his mind at rest; he shall +never suffer the mortification of having to thank a boarding-house +keeper for his fortune. + +"O my boy--my dear, dear boy!" + +Meanwhile Bressant, having been relieved, by the timely arrival of the +letter, from any present necessity of visiting his aunt, was devoting +himself pretty diligently to the cultivation of that line in his +forehead running perpendicularly up from between the eyebrows. It bade +fair to become a permanent feature in his face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +ARMED NEUTRALITY. + + +One afternoon in the cool heart of October, Cornelia and Sophie found +themselves on the hill which rose up in front of the house, above the +road, bound on a hunt for autumn leaves. They were alone. Bressant's +time for coming was still an hour distant. A few nights before there had +been a frost, which had inspired a rainbow soul into the woods; and the +glory of the golden and crimson leaves made it imperatively necessary +that they should be gathered and allowed to illuminate the dusky +interior of the Parsonage. + +Since Cornelia's return home, the sisters had not been so much together +as formerly. Sophie had observed it, and secretly blamed herself: she +allowed Bressant to monopolize her--left Cornelia out in the cold--was +selfish and thoughtless just because she was happy--and so forth: taking +herself severely to task, and resolving to amend her behavior forthwith. +But there seemed to be some difficulty in the way of consummating her +best intentions. + +Cornelia was no longer so easily to be come at; she did not volunteer +herself now in the liberal, joyous way she used to do; did not, in fact, +appear half so ready to do her share in the work of reconstruction. It +began to force itself upon Sophie that the edifice of their former +relations was not lightly to be rebuilt; and the growth of this +conviction occasioned her to mar her ordinarily serene and justly +harmonized existence with sundry little fits of crying and other +mournful indulgences. + +As for Cornelia, if she noticed the estrangement at all, she did not +allow it to occasion her any anxiety. Jealousy and discontent are more +self-absorbing passions than love, and they closed her eyes to whatever +they did not involve. Yet the effect of the estrangement was more +hurtful upon her than upon Sophie; for never had her pure-minded +sister's influence been so needful to her as now, when the very nature +of the malady forbade its being so relieved. + +But this afternoon it had so happened that they found themselves +together, on the hill. Each had filled a basket with the most brilliant, +or harmonious, or vividly contrasted colors they could find. They had +emerged from the wood into the clear autumn sunshine which rested upon +the hill-side, and sat down upon a gray knee of rock, encased with crisp +gray and black lichens. Below lay the Parsonage, with its +weather-blackened, shingled roof, and the garden, full of shrubbery, +intersected by winding paths, the fountain in the centre. The stony road +wound around the spur of the hill, and was visible here and there, in +its slopes and turnings on the way to the village, light buff between +the many-colored bordering of foliage. The winding valley looked like +Nature's color-box; the tall hills beyond, sleeping beneath their +Persian shawls, contrasted richly with the cool pearl-gray of the lower +sky behind them. Away to the right, though seemingly nearer than from +the road below, rose the white steeple of the meeting-house, and, +peeping out around it, the roofs and gable-ends of the village houses. + +"There could not be a more lovely place to be happy in!" said Sophie, +sighing from excess of pleasure. + +"Any place is as lovely as another when you're in love, I suppose," +remarked her sister; "that is, if being in love is as nice as poets say +it is." + +Sophie looked around with a smile, implying that the best description a +poet ever wrote could give but a faint impression of the reality. + +"But," pursued Cornelia, "don't you find it very stupid when he's away? +The happier you are with him, the unhappier you'd be without him, I +should think." + +"Oh, no, dear!" returned Sophie. "I'm happy mostly, because I know he +cares for me more than for any one else in the world, and because I know +he's one of the best and truest of men. I can feel that, you know, just +as much when he's at Abbie's, as when he's here. The happiness of love +isn't all in seeing and hearing, and--all that tangible part." + +"Don't it make any difference, then, if you never Bee one another from +the day you're engaged until you're married?" + +Sophie began to blush, as she generally did when called upon to speak of +her love. "Of course, it's delicious to be together," said she, "and it +would be very sad if we could not meet. But it would be more sad to +think that our love depended on meeting." + +"Well, it may be so to you," returned Cornelia, picking lichens from the +rock and crushing them between her rounded fingers; "but my idea is that +the whole object of being engaged and married is to be together all the +time. I don't see what on earth we are made visible and tangible for, +unless to be seen and touched by the persons we love." + +Sophie looked distressed, and a little embarrassed. + +"You can't think our bodies are the most important part of us, Neelie, +dear? It's our souls that love and are loved, you know. How could we +love in heaven if it were not so?" + +"Oh, I don't know any thing about that. It's love in this world I'm +speaking of. I believe it has as much to do with flesh and blood, as an +instrument has with the music that it makes. What would become of the +music if it wasn't for the instrument?" + +"That's a beautiful illustration, my dear," observed Sophie, after a +thoughtful pause, "but I think it can be used better the other way. The +music of love, like other music, is an existence by itself, exclusive of +the flesh-and-blood instruments, which weren't given us to create music, +but to interpret it to our earthly senses. Our souls are the players; +but in the next world we shall be able to perceive the harmony without +need of any medium. We can remember music, too, and enjoy it, long after +we have heard it--that is why we don't need to be always together. And +yet it's always sweet to meet, to hear a new tune; and the number of +tunes is infinite; so love needs all eternity to make itself complete." + +When Sophie hit upon an idea which seemed to her spiritually beautiful +and harmonious, she was apt to be carried away--sometimes, perhaps, into +deep water. Yet thus, occasionally, did she catch glimpses of higher +truths than a broader and safer wisdom could have attained. Cornelia +took one of the glowing leaves out of her basket, and looked at it. +Perhaps she saw, in the perfect earthly self-sufficiency of its +splendor, something akin to herself. + +"I suppose I don't half appreciate your theory, Sophie, though it's +certainly pretty enough. But you're more soul than body, to begin with, +I believe. For my part, I almost think, sometimes, I could get along +without any soul at all, and never feel the least inconvenience. Perhaps +everybody hasn't a soul--only a few favored ones." + +"What is it gives you such thoughts, Neelie?" said her sister, in a tone +which, had it not been charged with so ranch depth of feeling, would +have been plaintive. Her gray, profound eyes, from a slight slanting +upward of the brows above them, took on an expression in harmony with +her tone. "I never knew you to have such, until lately." + +"I suppose, until lately, I didn't have any thoughts at all." There was +a pause. Sophie looked away over the beautiful valley, but it could not +drive the shadow of anxious and loving sorrow from her face. Cornelia +busied herself selecting leaves from her basket, and arranging them in a +bouquet. Like them, she was more vividly and variously beautiful since +the frost. + +"Do you think men's ideas of love, and such things, are as high as +women's?" asked she presently. + +"Why shouldn't they be?" answered Sophie, coming back from her reverie +with a sigh. "I'm sure Bressant's are: if they weren't--" + +She sank again into thought, and another long silence followed. This +time Cornelia's hands were still, but she watched Sophie closely. + +"Well--suppose they weren't--suppose he were to turn out not quite so +high-minded, and all that, as you think him: you would stop loving him, +wouldn't you?" + +"Why do you suggest it!" cried Sophie, almost with a sob. She bent down, +resting her face upon her arms, and against the rock. "That question has +come to me once before. How can I know? If he were to degenerate +now--now, after I have told him that I love him--it must be because he +no longer loved me; and I should have no right to love him, then." + +Cornelia looked down, for there was a certain light in her eyes which +had no right to be there. When she thought it was subdued, she raised +them again. + +"Shouldn't you hate him always afterward? Shouldn't you want to kill +him?" demanded she, in a low voice. + +"I should want to kill only the memory of his unworthiness," replied +Sophie, her voice rising and clearing, while she regarded her sister +with a full, bright glance. "As to hating him--I cannot hate any one I +have loved, Neelie." She raised herself up as she spoke, and sat erect. + +"Well, you're a strange girl!" said Cornelia, who was a little confused. +"I don't see how you can ever be either happy or unhappy. Nothing human +seems to have any hold upon you." + +"I'm very human," returned Sophie, shaking her head. "There are some +things, I think, would soon drive me out of the world, if God wore to +send them to me." + +The idea of death, when brought home to Cornelia, never failed to affect +her. If she had been planning the destruction of an enemy, she would +have wept bitterly at the sight of that enemy's dead body; nay, even at +a vivid account of his death. Sophie's words brought tears to her eyes +at once, and a quaver into her voice. + +"Don't--please don't talk that way, dear; it isn't so easy to die as you +think, I'm sure. The idea of dying because anybody was wicked! It's only +because you've been ill, and have got into the habit of expecting to +die, that you have such ideas--isn't it? don't you think so? You'll stop +feeling so as soon as you're well again--won't you?" + +"Perhaps," said Sophie, with, it may be, a particle of satire in her +smile. + +They now got up from the rock and began to descend toward the Parsonage. +Sophie stepped with a quick but careful precision, never slipping or +missing her footing. Cornelia made short rushes, and daring jumps, often +coining near to fall. Her mind was a Babel of new thoughts; or rather +one idea spoke with many tongues, and made much disturbance. + +The greatest crimes are often perpetrated by those who, in their own +phrase, follow the lead of the moment, and let things take their course. +Things never take their own course, in a certain sense; what we do, and +say, and think, creates circumstances and shapes results. There seems +always to be a choice of paths. We profess--and believe--that we are +neutral; that we surrender ourselves to the chance of the current. But +let an evil hope--a dangerous wish--once enter our minds: something we +venture only half to hint to ourselves in the non-committal whispers of +a craven, unacknowledged longing-working secretly within us, it will act +upon our course as a rudder, which, hidden beneath the water, steers the +vessel inevitably toward a certain goal. Perhaps, when the current has +become too swift, and the rudder, clamped in one fatal position, cannot +be turned, we may realize, and recoil; but now, indeed, we follow the +lead of the moment; now, beyond a doubt, we let things take their +course: we are hurried on irresistibly; that which we dared not openly +to name, or fairly to face, now looms awfully above us--an irrevocable, +accomplished fact. + +Beyond doubt it would have been safer to have steadily and fearlessly +kept the end in view from the outset: for the full horror of it would +have been visible while yet there was time to change our minds. Few +people have the nerve to jump from a precipice, or stand in way of a +railway-engine, without first shutting their eyes, and perhaps their +ears also. + +In Cornelia's mind there was no intention of ruining her sister's +happiness by interfering between her and Bressant; but then she did not +think it likely that to lose him would occasion Sophie any thing more +than a temporary and comparatively trifling degree of suffering. If she +could allow her love for him to depend upon the immaculateness of his +moral character, she did not love him as much as Cornelia, to whose +affection any considerations of that kind were immaterial. What, after +all, was Sophie's love but an idealization, which had, to be sure, taken +Bressant as its object, but which placed no vital dependence upon him? +But Cornelia's love was to her a matter of life and death: she was +quite convinced that to live without Bressant would be an impossibility. + +The next question was, whether Bressant was really as good as Sophie +believed him to be. Cornelia did not think he was. Perhaps a secret +sense of his attitude toward her suggested her suspicions; perhaps they +were the result of her New-York experience, which had taught her just +enough about men to make her imagine there was more or less of dark and +indefinite villainy in the composition of all of them; perhaps it was +her wish that fathered her moral misgivings about him--for it must be +confessed that Cornelia was very far from shrinking at the idea of +seeing her suspicions verified. + +Indeed, was it not, on all accounts, desirable that, whatever +objectionable points and passages the young man's life-record contained, +should be at once forthcoming? Cornelia could not restrain a feeling of +satisfaction at the growing conviction that it would be doing Sophie a +kind and friendly service to inform her, in time, what a reprobate she +was about to marry--if he only could be proved a reprobate! This +question of proof was the only one difficulty in Cornelia's way; all the +rest was as clear and easy as is generally the case in such matters. + +It would not do to lie about it: Cornelia had a natural if not a moral +disinclination to falsehood, and was, moreover, acute enough to see how +strong, in this case, would be the chances of detection. It was not +likely that Sophie would accept upon hearsay any imputations or +accusations against her lover: she would speak to Bressant at once; the +lie would be revealed, and the result would be not only a failure to +alienate Sophie from him, but a certainty of alienating him from +Cornelia. + +No; her reliance must be placed upon facts. Whatever she could hear to +the young man's disadvantage that was true, beyond the possibility of +his denial, that she must at once make known to Sophie: it was no less +than her duty. Or, better still, why would it not be enough simply to +inform Bressant of her dark discovery, and compel him, by the threat of +revelation, to give up Sophie of his own accord! Cornelia, in +congratulating herself upon this shrewd idea, did not perceive how +entirely it transformed the whole aspect and spirit of her intention. + +So much being arranged, the next thing was to put herself in the way of +learning the objectionable truths which she had persuaded herself +existed. This was rather an awkward point. How should she go to work? to +whom apply? who would be most likely to know, or, knowing, to impart +what Cornelia desired to hear? Aunt Margaret? But it was not certain +that she knew any thing about him more than the little Cornelia had +herself told her: if not useless, it would certainly be rash to make +inquiries of her, especially since it would have to be done by letter. +Aunt Margaret wouldn't do. + +Her papa? No, no! that was quite out of the question. He might not +approve--he was old-fashioned--he wouldn't understand the necessity--he +might ask her disagreeable questions--and besides--no, he must be given +up. + +But besides Aunt Margaret, and Professor Valeyon, who was there? +Cornelia was quite at a loss. To think of being obliged to give up the +whole explosion, merely for want of a match to touch off the powder, +that was unendurable! She would not give it up; she would let herself be +guided by circumstances; something would be sure to turn up that would +serve her purpose; she must be on the alert, that was all, and let +things take their course. One thing troubled her--the day of the wedding +was not much over two months distant! Every thing must be done before +then. It was to be hoped that things would take their course with a +reasonable degree of rapidity. + +As regarded the favorable result to herself of Bressant's separation +from Sophie, Cornelia seems never to have entertained a doubt. That he +would fall into a state of despair, and of bitterness against all women, +herself included, she was unable, consistently with her confidence in +herself, to believe. Far more natural was it, that, finding Sophie no +longer could care for him, he would seek to repose and refresh his heart +elsewhere: and where so soon as with Cornelia? Indeed it was a mystery +to her how he had ever come to care for Sophie at all; and the reason of +the mystery was, that she had felt a movement of passion in him toward +herself. There was certainly not much similarity between the sisters, +and it was not strange that Cornelia should be inclined to doubt the +validity of her rival's claim to supremacy in Bressant's heart. + +Her rival! The current of events had already carried Cornelia a +considerable distance beyond her position on the evening of her return +from New York, when she had excused her beautiful appearance, to +herself, by suggesting that it would not do for the husband of her +sister to detest her! That was sophistry, and it was sophistry that +served her now; but the subjects upon which she exercised it were +becoming hourly more and more ticklish. The woman of two weeks back +would have started and turned pale before the woman of to-day. + +It would be very funny--if it were not so deep a tragedy--the havoc +bungling human fingers make in essaying the work of Providence. No one +but God can know how delicate are the petals of his flowers, nor on what +depend their bloom and fragrance. Hearts are sacred things; we should +beware of meddling, not alone with others' but with our own. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +A BIT OF INSPIRATION. + + +Bressant was in the habit of spending three hours every afternoon at the +Parsonage. Part of this time was passed in the professor's study, +pursuing theological lore; for, whatever the young man's ultimate +expectations with regard to his career and fortune may have been, it was +no part of his plan to allow his future father-in-law to suspect any +tiling else than what he had already given him to understand. + +After lessons were over he joined Sophie on the balcony, walked with her +in the garden, or gave her his arm up the hill. Cornelia was seldom to +be seen, at least within speaking distance. At the same time she did not +keep entirely out of the way. Often, when wandering with her sister +through the garden-paths, Bressant would catch a glimpse of her buoyant +figure and rich-toned face upon the balcony; or, if himself established +there, would presently behold her, in a garden hat and shortened skirt, +raking the fallen leaves off the paths and flower-beds, and perhaps +trundling them stoutly away in a wheelbarrow afterward. It thus happened +that, although seldom exchanging a word with her, he was continually +receiving fresh reminders of her, in one way or another; and he was, +moreover, haunted by an idea that Cornelia was not unconscious that he +was observing her. + +Two or three days subsequent to Cornelia's conversation with Sophie on +the hill-top, Bressant, on his afternoon way to the Parsonage, met the +former coming in the opposite direction. It was nearly at the end of the +long level stretch, which was now resplendent with many-colored maples, +which were interspersed at short intervals between the willows. He had +been walking; swiftly with his eyes on the ground, when, chancing to +raise them, lie saw Cornelia walking on toward him. + +How beautifully she trod, erect, her round chin held in, stepping +daintily yet firmly; it seemed as if the earth were an elastic sphere +beneath her feet, she moving tirelessly onward. She had plucked a branch +of gorgeous leaves from one of the maples, which she brandished about +ever and anon, to keep the flies away. A straw hat, narrow-brimmed, +slanted downward over hair and forehead. Her oval cheeks were more than +usually luminous from exercise; her eyes were bright tawny brown, the +lids shaped in curves, like the edges of a leaf. The vigorous roundness +of her full and perfect figure was hinted here and there through the +light drapery of her dress, as she walked forward. The October breeze +seemed the sweeter for blowing past her. + +"You must be rather late--I don't often meet you!" said she, with a +smile which put Bressant traitorously at his ease. + +"Early, more than late," responded he, stopping as he saw that she +stopped. + +"Are you?--well, then--I don't often see you--would you mind walking +with me just a little way?" and she touched him lightly on the shoulder +with her maple-branch, as with the wand of an enchantress. + +He, in obedience rather to the touch than the words, turned about and +walked beside her. + +"I've a right to a sister's privileges, you know," continued she, +slipping her hand beneath his arm, and letting it rest upon it. + +How very delightful, as well as simple, to solve the problem of their +intercourse on this basis! Bressant did not know how it might feel to +have a sister, but he could, at the moment, imagine nothing more +delightful than to be Cornelia's brother--unless it were to be Sophie's +husband. But to be both! + +"Do you know," pursued she, with apparent hesitation, looking up in his +face, and then immediately looking down again, "I've had a notion, since +coming back from New York, that you don't like me so well as you did?" + +This might be either audacity or delicacy, as one chose to take it. +Bressant, feeling himself put rather on the defensive, answered hastily +and without premeditation: + +"I like you more!" + +"Oh! I'm so glad to hear you say so!" exclaimed she warmly, and as she +spoke he felt her hand a little more perceptibly on his arm. "It takes +such a load off my heart! seeing you and Sophie love one another so +much, I couldn't help loving you, too, in my way; and it made me so +unhappy to think I was disagreeable to you." + +Bressant was quite unprepared for all this. Whatever had been his +speculations as to the future footing upon which he and Cornelia should +stand, it had been nothing like that she was now furnishing. It did not +seem at all in the vein which she had opened on the day of her return. +He was puzzled: had he been more used to ladies' society, he would have +mistrusted her sincerity. + +"You could never be disagreeable to me!" was his answer: and he looked +down at her oval cheek, with his first attempt at fraternal admiration. +It turned out badly. She looked unexpectedly up: his glance fell through +her tawny eyes, and sank down, burning deliciously, into her heart. She +turned pale with the pain and the pleasure: but it was such pain and +pleasure that she sought, and wanted more of. + +"Well, then! it's all clear between us again--is it?" resumed she, +drawing a long breath, which sounded more like the irrepressible +out-come of a tumultuous heart, than a sigh of relieved suspense upon +the point in question. "No more misunderstandings, or any thing? and you +won't get out of the way ally more, as if I were poison--will you?" + +"I never did!" protested he, laughing awkwardly. In the last few minutes +he had developed a sentiment hitherto unknown to him--pique! He had been +imagining Cornelia in love with him, and angry at his preference for +Sophie; whereas, it would now seem that the only reason she cared for +him at all, was because he was Sophie's lover: a most correct spirit in +her, no doubt; but, instead of being gratified, as was his duty, he felt +provoked. + +"Oh! yes, you behaved shockingly!" rejoined Cornelia, laughing with him. +"Mind! I don't care how devoted you are to Sophie--the more the better; +but, when you do notice me, I want you to do it kindly--won't you?" + +"I'll be sure to, now that I know you care any thing about it." + +"And what made you think I didn't care about it, if you please, sir?" + +"Why," stammered he, quite at a loss what to say, and so coming out with +the truth, "I thought you were offended at my being engaged to Sophie!" + +"But what should there be in that to offend me?" demanded Cornelia, with +the mouth and eyes of Innocence. + +"I don't know:--well--I knew you first!" he blurted forth, beginning to +wish he had been satisfied to hold his tongue. + +Cornelia took her breath once or twice, and then bit it off on her under +lip, as if about to say something, and afterward hesitating about it. + +"I don't quite understand you," she managed to get out at last; "do +you--forgive me if I'm wrong--but perhaps you're thinking of that +time--when--just before I went away?" + +Saying this, she drooped her eyes in a confusion, which, because more +than half of it was genuine, made her look very fascinating. Nothing is +more seductive than a little truth. As Bressant looked at her, and +thought of what lie had done at that last interview, soft thrills crept +sweetly through his blood, and he felt a most extraordinary tenderness +for her. + +"I've often thought of it," answered he, in a tone which did not belie +his words. + +"Well--so have I, to tell the truth!" rejoined Cornelia, looking up for +a moment with glowing candor. "But we won't either of us think of it any +more, will we? It seems very long ago, now; and it'll never be again, +and we ought to forget it ever was at all. But, oh! most of all, you +must forget it if it will ever be a reason for your disliking me, or +wishing not to see me! I know how disagreeable it must be to you to +think of it now." + +Did Cornelia know what she was about? had she netted beforehand all the +meshes of this web she was throwing over him? the admirable mixture of +frankness and subtlety, nature and art--must it not have been planned +and calculated beforehand, to bewilder and mislead?--It may well be +doubted. No preconceived and elaborated programme can come up to the +inspiration of the moment, which is genius. Such felicitous wording of +subject-matter so objectionable: such an unassailable presentation of so +indefensible a principle--could hardly have been the fruit of +premeditation. Cornelia was allowing things to take their course. + +"It isn't disagreeable! it's--" Bressant broke off, unable or unprepared +to say what it was. "Why must we forget it?" he added, with a +half-assured look of significance. "You said we were brother and sister, +you know!" + +She laughed in his face, at the same time drawing her hand from his arm, +and stepping away from him. How tantalizingly lovely she looked! + +"It won't do to carry the privileges of relationship too far, my dear +sir! at least, not until after you're married. There! go back to your +Sophie--I didn't mean to keep you so long--really! No, no!" as he made +an offer to approach her; "go! and be quick, I advise you. Good-by!" + +Bressant, as he walked on to the Parsonage, was possessed by an +undefined conviction that he was learning a great deal not set down in +the books. The page of the passions, once thrown open, seems to comprise +every thing. The world has but one voice for the man of one idea. + +Evidently, this man did not comprehend the nature of his position +between these two women. Reason told him it was impossible he could love +both at once; but there her information stopped. His senses assured him +that, with Cornelia, he experienced a vivid rush of emotion, such as +Sophie, strongly as he loved her, never awakened in him; but his senses +could give him no explanation of the fact. His instinct whispered that +he would not have dared, in his most ardent moments, to feel toward +Sophie as he invariably felt toward her sister; but no instinct warned +him of the danger which this implied. A sturdy principle, if it had not +thrown light upon the question, would, at least, have pointed out to him +the true course to adopt; but, unfortunately, principles, and the +impulses which they are formed to control, are neither of simultaneous +nor proportionate growth. Bressant, while partaking so liberally of +emotional food, had quite neglected to provide himself with the +necessary and useful correctives to such indulgences. Thus it happened +that when he arrived, a little past his usual hour, at the +Parsonage-door, his mental digestion was in a very disturbed condition. + + +In palliation of Cornelia's conduct, there is little or nothing to be +adduced. Strong forces had been laboring within her during the last few +months. Love, disappointment, a passionate nature, a sense of wrong--not +least, her New-York experience--had developed, warped, and transformed +her. Bressant's homage had been the first, of any value to her, which +she had ever received. It had come unasked and unexpected, and had been +all the more attractive, because there was something not quite regular +about it. Being lost, she had felt a fierce necessity for repossessing +it, under whatever form, under whatever name. To-day, it was but the +turn of the conversation that had suggested the expedient of calling +herself his sister. + +The very beauty and purity of the fraternal relation cloaks the +miserable rottenness of the imitation. So innocent does it seem, it +might almost deceive the parties to the deception themselves. "I may +love him, for I'm his sister!" said Cornelia; but could she in reality +have become his sister, she would, beyond all else, have shrunk from it. +"Nothing I do is in itself an impropriety," she could say: but her +secret sense and motive were enough to make the most innocent act +criminal. She closed her ears to the inner voice, and her eyes, looking +at her conduct only through the crimson glass of her desire, pronounced +it good. + +She walked swiftly, immersed in thought, along the October road, beneath +the splendid canopy, and over the gorgeous strewn carpet, of the dying +trees. She was going to call on Abbie, it having occurred to her that +perhaps the kind of information she wanted concerning Bressant might be +forthcoming there. Presently, the rapid rise in the road at the end of +the level stretch checked the current of her ideas, and threw them into +confusion. Out of the confusion rose unexpectedly one. + +Cornelia stopped in her walk, with one foot advanced, her head thrown +up, her finger on her chin. She looked like a glorious young sibyl, +reading a divine prophecy upon the clouds. After a moment, she waved her +autumn banner over her head, with a gesture of triumph, and, turning on +her heel, began to walk back toward home. + +The grandest discoveries are so simple! Cornelia laughed to think how +blind she had been--how stupid! What a sense of power and independence +was hers now! To turn homeward had been instinctive. So strong was the +sense of an end gained--a point settled--that, whatever may have been +the actual errand on which she had started, she felt that her work, for +that day, at least, was done. + +She had been planning, and speculating, and worrying, to discover a safe +and sure method of separating Bressant and her sister. Peering into the +past for materials, and searching on one side or another for sources of +information, she had overlooked all that was best and nearest at hand. +What need for her to scrape together a reluctant tale of what had been? +for was not the future her own? Why rely for assistance upon this or +that suspicious and unsatisfactory witness? What more trustworthy one +could she find than herself? Suppose Bressant never to have done any +thing that could make him unworthy of Sophie, was that a bar against his +doing something in the future? + +Yes; she had power over him, and would use it. She herself would be the +means and the cause for attaining the end at which she aimed. She would +be the accomplice of his indiscretion, and thus obtain over him a double +advantage. No matter how intrinsically trifling the indiscretion might +be, it would be just such a one as would be sure to weigh heavily in the +balance of Sophie's pure judgment. So plain would this be to Bressant +himself, that Cornelia would be able to rule him (as she argued) merely +with the threat of accusation. And, since his desertion of Sophie would +appear to her causeless, the indignation she would feel thereat would +save her from repining. Cornelia would have him all to herself! + +Well! and what would she do with him when she had him? She did not stop +to consider. Nor, going on thus from step to step, did she have a sense +of the hideousness of the wrong she contemplated. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +ANOTHER INTERMISSION. + + +It was something of a surprise to Bressant, after his interview with +Cornelia, that she still continued to avoid him. But, after what she had +said to him, to set his mind at rest regarding the spirit and manner of +their intercourse, she felt an intuition that it would be as well he +should believe that she herself was not over-anxious to be on any terms +with him whatever. + +Still, he often saw her, and always carried away a charming impression +of what he saw. Once, she had mounted a chair in the library, and was in +the act of reaching down a book from a high shelf, when he entered +unexpectedly. She turned, caught his eye, and dimpled into a mischievous +smile. All day he could not drive the picture out of his head--the +bounteous, graceful form, the heavy, dark, lustreless hair, the +fascinating face, and the smile. He had but just left Sophie, yet the +fine chords she had struck in him were drowned in Cornelia's sensuous +melody. + +Again, one day, coming into the house, he chanced to enter the parlor, +and there sat Cornelia, in an easy-chair, her feet stretched out upon a +stool, fast asleep. He came close up to her, and stood looking. What +artist could ever have hoped to reproduce the warmth, glow, and richness +of color and outline? He watched her, feeling it to be a stolen +pleasure, yet a nameless something, surging up within him, compelled +him to remain. In another moment--who can calculate a man's strength and +weakness?--he might have stooped to kiss her, with no brother's kiss! +But, in that moment, she awoke, and perhaps surprised his half-formed +purpose in his eyes. + +She was too clear-headed to regret having awaked, for she saw that he +regretted it. And, because he did not venture, she being awake, to take +the kiss, she knew he was no brother, and knew not what it was to be +one. So she put on a look of annoyance, and told him petulantly to go +about his business. Off he went, and passed his hour with Sophie, who +was as lovely, as fresh, and as purely transparent as ever. But some +turbid element had been stirred in Bressant's depths, which spoiled his +enjoyment for that day, making him moody and silent. + +Such little incidents--there were many of them--were far too simple and +natural to be the work of deliberation and forethought. But Cornelia was +disposed to use them, when they did occur, to her best possible +advantage, and therefore they acquired potency to affect Bressant. She +wished that to be, which he had not stamina enough to oppose: thus a +subtle bond was established between them, lending a significance to the +most ordinary actions, such as could never have been recognized between +indifferent persons. + +This was all progress for Cornelia, and she well knew it, and yet she +was not at ease nor satisfied. She began to find out that it was no such +light matter to usurp the place of such a woman as Sophie, though the +latter was laboring under the great disadvantage of being ignorant of +the plot against her. In most cases, indeed, the attempt would have been +wellnigh hopeless, but Cornelia had two exceptionally powerful +allies--her own supreme beauty, and Bressant's untrained and +ill-regulated animal nature, which he had not yet learned to understand +and provide against. And there was another thing in her favor, too, +although she knew it not--the demoralizing effect upon the young man's +character--of his failure to fulfil his agreement with the professor. +The evils that are in us link themselves together to drag us down, their +essential quality being identical, whatever their particular +application. + +Nevertheless, time went on, and November had stalked shivering away +before the frosty breath of December, and still Cornelia had +accomplished nothing definite; nay, she scarcely felt sufficiently sure +of her footing to attempt any thing. And what was it that she was to +attempt? On looking this question in the face, at close quarters--it +wanted less than four weeks now of that wedding-day which Cornelia had +promised herself should see no wedding!--when she found herself pressed +so peremptorily as this for an answer, it might be imagined that she +turned pale at what was before her. And, indeed, the prospect, viewed in +its best light, was discouraging and desperate enough. For at what price +to herself must success be bought, and at what sacrifice be enjoyed? She +must either lose, or deserve to lose, all that a woman ought to hold +most sacred and most dear--home, the esteem and love of friends, the +protection of truth, and, above all, and worst of all, her own +self-respect. All these in exchange for a baffled, angry, selfish man, +at whose mercy she would be, with only one word to speak in +self-defense and justification; and it was much to be feared that he +would, considering the circumstances, reject and scoff at even that. The +one word was--she loved him! and, if there be any redeeming virtue in +it, let her, in Heaven's name, have the benefit thereof. She can rely on +nothing else. + +But Cornelia would not be disheartened. If she saw the rocks ahead, +against whose fatal shoulders she was being swept--if she heard, dinning +in her ears, the rush and roar of the headlong, irresistible rapids--if +her eyes could penetrate the void which opened darkly beyond--she only +nerved herself the more resolutely, her glance was all the firmer, her +determination the more unfaltering. + +The peril in which she stood but kindled in her heart a fiery depth of +passion, such as overtopped and tamed the very terrors of her position. +Because she must lose the world to gain her end, that end was exalted, +in her thought, above a hundred worlds. The faculties of her soul, +which, in her time of innocence and indifference, had been dormant--half +alive--now sprang at once into an exalted, fierce vitality. The hour of +evil found Cornelia a creature of far higher powers and more vigorous +development than she could ever, under any other conditions, have +attained. She showed most gloriously and greatly, when illuminated by +that lurid light whose flame was fed by all that was most gentle, +womanly, and sweet within her. She looked nearest to a goddess, when she +needed but one step to be transformed into a demon. + +In following out her psychological progress, we have necessarily +outstripped, to some extent, the sober pace of the narrative. It was +about the first of December that rumors began to be circulated in the +village of an approaching ball at Abbie's. It was to be the +grandest--the most complete in all its appointments--of any that ever +had been given there. It was looked upon, in advance, as the great event +of the year. Real, formal invitations were to be sent out, printed on a +fold of note-paper, with the blank left for the name, and +"R.S.V.P."--whatever that might mean--in the lower left-hand corner. +There were to be six pieces in the band; dancing was to be from eight to +four, instead of from seven to twelve, as heretofore; and the toilets, +it was further whispered, were to be exceptionally brilliant and +elaborate. Certain it was that dress-making might have been seen in +progress through the windows of any farm-house within ten miles; and at +the Parsonage no less than elsewhere. + +Sophie had an exquisite taste in costume, though her ideas, if allowed +full liberty, were apt to produce something too fanciful and eccentric +to be fashionably legitimate. But, let a dress once be made up, and +happy she whose fortune it was to stand before Sophie and be touched +off. Some slight readjustment or addition she would make which no one +else could have thought of, but which would transform merely good or +pretty into unique and charming. Sophie had the masterly simplicity of +genius, but was generally more successful with others than with herself. + +As for Cornelia, she knew how she ought to look; but how to effect what +she desired was sometimes beyond her ability. She had little faculty for +detail, relying on her sister to supplement this deficiency. She was +more of a conformist than was Sophie in regard to toilet matters; +and--an important virtue not invariable with young ladies--she always +could tell when she had on any thing becoming. + +One December day, when a broad, pearl-gray sky was powdering the +motionless air with misty snow, the sisters sat together at their sewing +in what had been known, since his accident, as Bressant's room. There +was no stove; but a rustling, tapering fire was living its ardent, +yellow, wavering life upon the brick hearth, and four or five logs of +birch and elm were reddening and crackling into embers beneath its +intangible intensity. It made a grateful contrast to the soft, cold bank +of snow that lay, light and round, upon the outside sill and the +slighter ridges that sloped and clung along the narrow foothold of the +window-pane frames. Presently Cornelia got up from the low stool on +which she had been sitting, and, having slipped on the waist of her new +dress, invited Sophie's criticism with a courtesy. + +"Dear me, Neelie!" exclaimed she, in gentle consternation, "are you +going to wear your corsage so low as that?" + +"Yes, why not?" returned Cornelia, with a kind of defiance in her tone; +"it's the fashion, you know. Oh, I've seen them lower than that in New +York!" + +"But there'll be nothing like it here, dear, I'm sure. Think how +frightened poor Bill Reynolds will be when he sees you." + +Sophie looked up, expecting to see her sister smile; but she, having in +view the opinion of quite another person than Mr. Reynolds, remained +unusually grave. + +"Don't mind me, dear," Sophie added, fearing she might have given +offense. "You know I'd rather see you look well than myself, especially +as I may not be here to see you another year." + +She drew a long breath of happy regret, thinking of what was to follow +the next day but one after the ball. + +Cornelia, looking into the fire, her pure, round chin resting on her +bent forefinger, started, as the same thought entered her mind. Was it +so near, though--that marriage? or would an eternity elapse ere Bressant +and Sophie called one another husband and wife? + +"Are you glad the day comes so soon, Sophie?" + +"Yes," answered she, with quiet simplicity. "A few weeks ago it +frightened me--it seemed so near; but not now. I love him much more than +I did--that's one reason. And he loves me more, I think." + +"Loves you more! why? what makes you think so?" demanded Cornelia, a +frown quivering across her forehead. + +"His manner tells me so: he's more subdued and gentle; almost sad, +indeed, sometimes. He's lived so much in his mind since we were engaged: +I can see it in his face, and hear it in his voice, even. He's not like +other men; I never want him to be; he has all that makes other men worth +any thing, and still is himself. He has the greatest and the warmest +heart that ever was; but when he first came here he had no idea how to +use it, nor even what it was for." + +"And he's found out now, has he?" + +"Yes--especially in the last few weeks. Before, he used sometimes to be +violent, almost--to lose command of himself; but he never does now." + +"But doesn't he ever tell you that he loves you more than ever?" + +"We understand each other," replied Sophie, with a slight touch of +reserve, for she thought she was being questioned further than was +entirely justifiable. "Nothing he could say would make me feel his love +more than I do." + +Cornelia smiled to herself with secret derision; she imagined she could +give a more plausible reason for her sister's reticence. She took off +her "waist" and resumed her place upon the stool. + +"What should you do, Sophie, supposing something occurred to prevent +your marriage?" + +"Die an old maid," returned she: not treating the question seriously, +but as a piece of Cornelia's wanton idleness. + +Cornelia began to laugh, but interrupted herself, half-way, with a sob. +She was seized by a fantasy that if Sophie died an old maid her sister +would have been the cause of it--would be a murderess! The sudden +jarring of this idea--tragical enough, even without the ghastly spice of +reality that there was about it--against the ludicrous element with +which tradition flavors the name of old maid--caught the young woman at +unawares, and threw her rudely out of her nervous control. It was a +result which could scarcely have happened, had she been less morbidly +and unnaturally excited and strained to begin with; as it was, it may +have been an outbreak which had long been brewing, and to which Sophie's +answer had but given the needful stimulus. + +The sob was succeeded by a convulsion of painful laughter, that would +go on the more Cornelia tried to stop it. At last, in gasping for +breath, the laughter gave way to an outburst of tears and sobs, which +seemed, in comparison, to be a relief. But at the first intermission, +the discordant laughter came again: she hid her face in her hands, and +made wild efforts to control herself: she slipped from her stool, and +flung herself at full length upon the floor. Now, the paroxysms of +laughing and crying came together, her body was shaken, strained, and +convulsed in every part: she was breathless, flushed, and faint. But it +seemed as if nothing short of unconsciousness could bring cessation: the +sobs still tore their way out of her bosom, and the laughter came with a +terrible wrench that was more agonizing to hear than a groan. + +Sophie had never seen Cornelia in hysterics before, and was tortured +with alarm and apprehension. She knew not what to do, for every attempt +she made to relieve her, seemed only to make her worse. + +"Let me call papa--he must be somewhere in the house--he will know what +to do!" she said, at last, trembling and white. + +"No! no!" cried Cornelia: and the shock of fear lest her father should +see her, overcame the grasp of the hysterical paroxysm. She half raised +herself on one arm, showing her face, red and disfigured, the veins on +the forehead standing out, full and throbbing. "Come back! come back!" +for Sophie had her hand on the door. + +She returned, in compliance with her sister's demand, and knelt down +beside her on the floor. Cornelia let herself fall back, her head +resting on Sophie's knee, in a state of complete exhaustion. There she +lay, panting heavily; and a clammy pallor gradually took the place of +the deeply-stained flush. But the fit was over: by-and-by she sat up, +sullenly shunning Sophie's touch, and appearing to shrink even at the +sound of her voice. Finally, she rose inertly to her feet, attempting to +moisten her dry lips, walked once or twice aimlessly to and fro across +the room, and ended by sitting down again upon her stool, and taking up +her sewing. + +"Are you all well again, dear?" asked Sophie, timidly. + +"Better than ever," replied Cornelia, with a short laugh, which had no +trace of hysteria about it. + +There was, however, a slight but decided change in her manner, which did +not pass away: a sort of hardness and impenetrability: and so +incorporated into her nature did these traits seem, that one would have +supposed they had always been there. Some unpleasant visitors take a +surprisingly short time to make themselves at home. + +But Sophie, seeing that her sister soon recovered her usual appearance, +did not allow herself to be disturbed by any uncalled-for anxieties. +Love, at its best, has a tendency to absorb and preoccupy those whom it +inspires: if not selfish, it is of necessity self-sufficient and +exclusive. Sophie was too completely permeated with her happiness, to +admit of being long overshadowed by the ills of those less blessed than +herself. Not that she had lost the power to sympathize with misfortune, +but the sympathy was apt to be smiling rather than tearful. She was +alight with the chaste, translucent, wondering joy of a maiden before +her marriage: the delicate, pearl-tinted brightness that pales the +stars, before the reddening morning brings on the broader daylight. + +She was not of those who, in fair weather, are on the lookout for rain: +she believed that God had plenty of sunshine, and was generous of it; +and that the possibilities of bliss were unlimited. She was not afraid +to be perfectly happy. A little sunny spot, in a valley, which no shadow +has crossed all day long, was like her: there seemed to be nothing in +her soul that needed shadow to set it right. + +Cheerfulness was soon reestablished, therefore, so far as she was +concerned; and the remembrance of Cornelia's distracting seizure +presently yielded to the throng of light-footed thoughts that were ever +knocking for admittance at her heart's door. Once afterward, however, +the event was recalled to her memory, by the revelation of its cause. +Little that happens in our lives would seem trifling to us, could we but +trace it, forward or backward, to the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +BRESSANT TAKES A VACATION. + + +Friday, December 30th, was the day appointed for Abbie's ball, and the +morning of the 28th had already dawned. Bressant stood, with his arms +folded, at the window of his room, watching the downfall of a thickening +snow-storm which had set in the previous midnight. There had evidently +been no delay or intermission in the cold, white, silent business; to +look out-of-doors was enough to make the flesh seem thin upon the bones. + +In spite of the snow, however, the little room was feverishly hot, owing +to the gigantic exertions of the small iron cylinder-stove. The round +aperture over the little door was glowing red, like an enraged eye; and +the quivering radiation of the heat from the polished black surface was +plainly perceptible to the sight. The room had lost something of the +neat and fastidious appearance which it had worn a few months before. +The colored drawing of a patent derrick, fastened to the wall by a tack +at each corner of the paper, had broken loose at one end, and was +curling over on itself like a withered leaf. The string by which the +ingenious almanac had been suspended over the mantel-piece was broken, +letting the almanac neatly down into the crevice between the wall and a +couple of fat dictionaries, which lay, one on top of the other, upon the +ledge. It was quite hidden from view, with the exception of one corner, +which was a little tilted upward, showing the hole through which the +faithless string had passed. + +The terrestrial and astronomical globes bore the appearance of not +having revolved for a long time. A part of the pictured surface of the +latter had scaled off, disclosing a blank whiteness beneath. Even the +heavens, it seemed, were a sham; nothing more than a varnished painting +upon a plaster-of-Paris foundation. The flower-pots still stood in the +windows, but hot air and an irregular water-supply had made sad inroads +upon the beauty of the plants. The lower leaves were turned brown; some +of them had fallen off, and lay--poor, little unburied corpses--upon the +narrow circle of earth which, having failed to keep life green within +their cells, now denied to them the right of sepulture. A few of the +topmost sprouts still struggled to keep up a parody of verdure, and one +or two faded flowers had not yet forsaken their calices--a silly piece +of devotion on their part! Icy little blasts, squeezing in through the +crevices of the window-sash, whistled about the forlorn stalks, cutting +and venomous. The poor flowers would never see another summer; better +give up at once! + +Even the books which met the eye on every side, wore a deserted air. Not +that they were dusty, for the chambermaid did her duty, if Bressant +failed in his; but there was something in the heavy, methodical manner +of their sleeping upon one another, such as they could never have +settled into had they been recently disturbed or opened. The outside of +a book is often as eloquent, in its way, as any part of the contents. + +Bressant's arms were folded, and the perpendicular line up from between +the eyebrows was quite in harmony with the rest of his appearance. He +was weary, harassed, and divided against himself. Insincerity made him +uncomfortable; it compelled continual exertion, and of a paltry and +degrading kind; and it gave neither a sense of security, nor a prospect +of future advantage. Five days from now he was to be married; the duties +of a parish minister were to be undertaken, and he felt himself neither +mentally nor morally fitted or inclined for the office. Five days from +now the professor would expect from him that gift at which he had hinted +during their drive; and he had done nothing, either in act or purpose, +to fulfil his promise concerning it. + +He was cut off from all sympathy. How could he confide to Sophie the +very wrong he meditated against herself--the very deception he was +practising upon her father? And what other person in the world was there +to whom he might venture to betake himself? Cornelia?--not yet! he dared +not yet yield himself to the influence he felt she was exercising over +him; the surrender implied too much; matters had not gone far enough. +But did there not lurk, in the bottom of his heart, a presentiment that +it was to her alone he would hereafter be able to look for countenance +and comfort? And would he avail himself of the refuge? When those whom +their friends--whether justly or not--have abandoned, chance to stumble +upon some oasis of unconditional affection, they are not squeamish about +its source or orthodoxy; if the sentiment be sincere and hearty, that +is enough. In the present case, moreover, Cornelia, as a last resort, +was by no means so uninviting an object as she might have been. + +But since the question lay between his fortune and Falsehood on one +side, and a wife and Truth on the other, how was it possible for him to +pause in his decision? Undoubtedly, had the young man once fairly +admitted to himself that his choice lay between these two bare +alternatives, he would have been spared much of the misery arising from +casuistry and duplicity. But people are loath to acknowledge any course +to be, beyond all appeal, right or wrong; they amuse themselves with +fancying some modification--some new condition--some escape; any thing +to get away from the grim face of the inevitable. Bressant, for +instance, might surely succeed in consummating his marriage with Sophie, +no matter what else he left undone; and that being once irrevocably on +his side of the balance, all that was vital to his happiness was secure; +by a quick stroke he might capture the fortune likewise, and could then +afford to laugh at the world. + +This scheme, however, otherwise practical enough, involved a fallacy in +its most important point. A marriage so contracted, with a woman of +Sophie's character, could by no possibility turn out a happy or even +endurable union. She would not be likely long to survive it; if she did, +it would be to suffer a life more painful than any death; for no one +depended more than Sophie upon integrity and nobility in those she +loved; and the break in her family relations would be another source of +agony to her, and of consequent remorse and misery to her husband. No: +to bind her life to his, unless he could also compel her respect and +admiration, would be a good deal worse than useless. + +He must, then--and there was yet time--resign his fortune, and accept +Sophie and a clear conscience, poverty and a country parish. But persons +who have wealth absolutely in their power, to take or to leave, sec +clearly how much poetical extravagance, hypocrisy, and cant exist in the +arguments of those who advocate the beauties and advantages of being +poor. Deliberately and voluntarily to forego the opportunities, the +influence, the ease, the refinement, which money alone can command--let +not the sacrifice be underrated! Few, perhaps, have had the choice +fairly offered them: of those, how many have chosen poverty? In +Bressant's case, the fact that the money was not legally his, was, +abstractly, enough to settle the matter; but in real life, where every +one is expected to do battle for his claims, it would only be an +argument for holding on the harder. If he could but manage to be happily +married and wealthy both! He would not confess it impossible; at all +events, he would delay the confession till the very latest hour, and +then trust to the impulse of the moment for his final decision and +action. He had given up, it seemed, that promising idea of trusting to +the generosity of the rightful owner; yet, considering their mutual +relation, and one or two minor circumstances, he might certainly do so +without misgiving, embarrassment, or dishonor. + +"It's that infernal letter!" muttered the young man between his teeth, +staring gloomily out at the cheerless snow-storm. "I wish it had never +been written. No! that I could feel sure there was no truth in it." + +Turning from the window, he stepped over to the table, and dropped +himself into his chair. He took from his pocket a well-worn envelope, +hardly capable of holding on to the inclosed letter, which peeped forth +at the corners, and through various rents in the front and back. He did +not open it, for he had long known by heart every word and italic in it; +but, placing it in front of him, he leaned upon his elbows, with his +forehead resting between his hands, and gazed fixedly down upon it. It +is an assistance to the vividness of thought to have some object in +sight connected with the matter under consideration. + +"Ought I to have answered it?" ran his soliloquy: for though he had +frequently taken counsel with himself concerning this letter before, he +recurred again and again to the subject, pleasing himself with the hope +that still, in some way, a fortunate ray of light might be struck out; +"but, if I had, what should I have gained by it? It's as well not to +have risked putting any thing on paper; and if she really has the proofs +she talks about, I shall hear from her again, and soon, for she knows +which is my wedding-day; and it must all be decided, one way or another, +before then. But she couldn't have made the assertion if she hadn't +known some good grounds for it; and yet I can't understand it--I +cannot." He pressed his temples strongly between his hands, and chewed +his brown mustache. "As to my having 'no legal claim to a cent,' I knew +that before. What puzzles me is, 'There is no consideration--not a +_shadow_ of relationship, or affection, or generosity--nothing to give +you the least _prospect_ of receiving any thing.' How can that be? And +yet what she says at the end--it sounds more like a threat she knows she +can fulfil than an attempt to humbug." Bressant took his right hand from +his forehead, and tapped with his finger on the envelope as he repeated +the words: "If this is enough--convinces you without your requiring +proof--it would be much pleasanter for you, and a great relief to me. +Oh! beyond _words_! But if not--if you will _go on_ entangling yourself +with this foolish girl, Sophie, and this boarding-house keeper, and +all--I _shall_ be obliged--I shall hate to _do_ it, but there will be no +alternative--to give you the _explanation_ of what I tell you now." + +"Well! let her!" cried the young man, rising roughly from his chair, and +shouldering backward and forward across his room with short, incensed +steps. "If her proofs can prevent my marriage, let her bring them. She'd +better be quick about it! Four days from now! They'd better never have +come at all. It's her interest as much as mine--more than mine. She's a +half-crazy old creature. She can do nothing for herself. If she has any +thing to say, let her say it. I'm no baby, to shape my life after an old +woman's story. Who is she? What is she to me? + +"Let something happen, I say," continued he, stretching out his great +arms, with the fists clinched. "I'm tired of this--the life of a dog +with his tail between his legs. Is it _I_ who go about, afraid to look +man or woman in the face? Am I the same who came here six months ago? +Did I come here to learn this? Who was it taught it to me, then? I say, +I've been deceived; it's no work of mine. Professor Valeyon--he's made +me a subject for experiment; he's tried his theories on me; dissected +me, and filled in the parts that were wanting. It's a dangerous +business, Professor Valeyon. You've lost one daughter; the other may go +too." + +Bressant's voice, which had been growing hoarser and more rapid as he +went on, abruptly sank, at this last sentence, into a whisper; yet, had +any one been there to listen, the whisper would have sounded louder and +more terrible than the most violent vociferation of angry passion. It +breathed a sudden concentration of evil intelligence, that startled like +the hiss of a serpent. + +He stopped his short, passionate walk, and leaned against his table, +with his arms once more folded. The idea that he had been tampered with +had gained possession of him, and nothing tends more to demoralize a +man, and make him unmanageably angry. His was an uncandid position, +without doubt: he was attempting to lay upon others the responsibility +which--the greater part of it, at least--should have been borne by +himself; but still, the vein of reasoning he pursued was connected, and +comprehensible, and was rendered awkward by an ugly little thread of +something like truth and justice, which showed here and there along its +course. + +"They've taught me to love; did they think they could stop there? that I +shouldn't learn to lie, as well? and to hate, and be revengeful? and to +be afraid? Was I so bad when I came here, that all this has made me no +worse? I was happy, at any rate; my brain was clear; my mind had no +fear, and no weariness--it was like an athlete; my blood was cool. Look +at me now! Am not I ruined by this patching and mending? I can do no +work. When I think, it's no longer of how I might become great, and +wise, and powerful--of nothing inspiring--nothing noble; but all about +these petty, heated, miserable affairs, that have twisted themselves +around me, and are choking me up. I don't ask myself, any more, whether +my name will be as highly honored and as long remembered as the +Christian Apostles', and Mohammed's, and Luther's. My only question is, +whether I'm to turn out more of a fool, or of a liar! And _I_ love +Sophie Valeyon! I'm to be her husband." + +The young man came to a sudden stop, and slowly lifted his head. Through +the sullen, unhappy, and resentful cloud that darkened his eyes, there +glimmered doubtfully a light such as can be reflected only from what is +most divine in man. It was a strange moment for it to appear, for at no +time had Bressant's moral level been so low as now; but, happily, the +phenomenon is by no means without precedent in human nature. God is +never ashamed to declare the share He holds in a sinner's heart, however +black the heart may be. + +"No, no!" said he; and, as he said it, the first tears that he had ever +known glistened for a moment in his eyes; "such as I am, I must never +marry her." + +The point on which this sudden and momentous resolve turned was so +subtle and delicately evanescent as scarcely to be susceptible of +clearer portrayal. To be consistent, the weight of his revengeful +sentiments should have been directed upon Sophie, for she it was who had +played the most effective part in changing his nature, and swerving him +from his cold but sublime ambitions. By teaching Bressant love, she +had, by implication, done him deadly injury, yet was the love itself so +pure and genuine as to prompt him to resign its object; he being +rendered unworthy of her by that same moral dereliction which she +herself had occasioned. + +But the very quality which enables us to do a noble deed dulls our +appreciation of our own praiseworthiness. Bressant took no encouragement +or pleasure from what he had done; probably, also, his realization of +the extensive and fearful consequences of the action, to others as well +as to himself, was as yet but rudimentary; so soon as the momentary glow +was passed, he fell back into a yet darker mood than before, and felt +yet more adrift and reckless. To make a sacrifice is well, but does not +hinder the need of what is given up from crippling us. + +Again the young man turned to the window, and, raising the sash, he +secured it by the little button used for the purpose, and leaned out +into the snow-storm. The flakes fell and melted upon his face, and +caught in his bushy beard, and rested lightly upon his twisted hair. +They flew into his eyes, and made little drifts upon the collar of his +coat and in the folds of his sleeves. He gazed up toward the dull, gray +cloud whence they came, and presently, out of the confusion, and +carelessness, and morbid impatience of his heart, he put forth a prayer +that some awfully stirring event might come to pass; let a sword pass +through his life! let him be smitten down and trampled upon! let his +mind be continually occupied with the extreme of active, living +suffering! let there be no cessation till the end! He could accept it +and exult in it; but to live on as he was living now was to walk +open-eyed into insanity. Rather than that, he would commit some capital +crime, and subject himself to the penalty. Let God take at least so much +pity upon him, and grant him physical agony! + +It is not often that our prayers are answered, nor, when they are, does +the answer come in the form our expectations shaped. Occasionally, +however--and then, perhaps, with a promptness and completeness that +force us to a realization of how extravagant and senseless our desires +are--does fulfillment come upon us. + +As Bressant's strange petition went up through the storm, a sleigh came +along from the direction of the railway-station. It was nothing but a +cart on runners, and painted a dingy, grayish blue; it was loaded with a +dozen tin milk-cans much defaced by hard usage, each one stopped with an +enormous cork. The driver was clad in an overcoat which once had been +dark brown or black, but had worn to a greenish yellow, except where the +collar turned up around the throat, and showed the original color. His +head and most of his face were enveloped in a knit woolen comforter, and +mittens of the same make and material protected his hands. His legs were +wrapped up in a gray horse-blanket. He was whitened here and there with +snow, and snow was packed between the necks of the milk-cans. He drove +directly toward the boarding-house, and he and Bressant caught sight of +one another at the same moment. + +"Hallo!" called the stranger; "you're Bressant, I guess, ain't you? I've +got something for you." Here he drew up beneath the window. "You see, I +was down to the depot getting some milk aboard the up-train, and Davis, +the telegraph-man, came up and asked me, 'Bill Reynolds, are you going +up to Abbie's? 'cause,' says he, 'here's a telegraph has come for the +student up there--him that's going to marry Sophie Valeyon--and our boy +he's down with the influenza,' says he. 'I'm you're man!' says I, 'let's +have it!' and here 'tis," added Mr. Reynolds, producing a yellow +envelope from the bottom of his overcoat pocket. + +Bressant had heard little or nothing of the explanation volunteered by +the bearer of the message, but he at once recognized the yellow +telegraph-envelope, and comprehended the rest. But, ere he could leave +the window to go down and receive it, he saw the fat servant-girl, who +had witnessed the scene from the parlor, run down to the front-gate, +sinking above her ankles at every step, take the envelope from Bill's +mittened paw, exchange a word and a grin with him, and then return, +carefully stepping into the holes she had made going out. + +Bill gave a nod of good-will to Bressant's window--for Bressant was no +longer there--whipped up his nag, and jingled off with his milk-cans. In +another minute the fat servant-girl, after stamping the remains of the +snow off her shoes upon the door-mat, opened the door, and introduced +the dispatch and her own smiling physiognomy. Bressant snatched the +former, and shut the door in the latter, before the hand-wiping and +haranguing had time to begin. + +Before opening the envelope, he stood up at his full height, and filled +his lungs with a long, profound breath; then emitted it suddenly in a +sort of deep, short growl, and took his seat at the table. He tore open +the end of the envelope, pulled out the inclosure, which was an ordinary +printed telegraph-blank, filled in with three lines of writing, as +follows: "Been very ill come on at once at once must hear all no +alternative" in the scrawly and unpunctuated chirography peculiar to +written telegrams. The name signed was "M. Vauderp." Bressant read the +message, and afterward carefully perused the printing, even down to the +name of the printer's firm, which was given in very small type at the +bottom of the paper. Then he glanced over the writing once more, and +returned the paper to the envelope. + +"At once, at once!" muttered he; "that's the only way of writing italics +in telegraphy, I suppose. Well, I'll go at once; it's ten now; there's a +train at half-past." + +He unlocked a drawer in his table, and took from it a purse, which he +put in his pocket. He buttoned a pea-jacket across his broad chest, +pressed a round fur-cap on to his handsome head, took a pair of thick +gloves from the mantel-piece, and walked away without giving one +backward glance. + +The snow blew and drifted through the open window into the empty room; +the few remaining flowers were hustled from their stalks; the red eye of +the stove grew dimmer and dimmer, and finally faded into darkness, and +the colored drawing of the patent derrick broke loose at another corner, +and flapped and fluttered against the wall in crazy exultation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +FACT AND FANCY. + + + +The snow-storm continued all that afternoon. The customary hour for +Bressant's visit to the Parsonage went by, and he did not appear. The +professor smoked two extra pipes, and spent half an hour looking out +across the valley trying to discern the open spot upon the top of the +hill. Finally, the early twilight set in, and he returned to his chair, +but felt no impulse to light a lamp and take up a book. He sat tilted +back, pulling Shakespeare's nose with meditative fingers. A gloom +gradually settled over the room, withdrawing one after another of the +familiar objects around him from the old gentleman's sight; it even +seemed to creep into his heart, and create a vague uneasiness there. He +tried to shake it off, telling himself that he was the happiest and most +fortunate old fellow alive; that every thing was coming out just as he +had hoped and prayed it might; that one daughter, with the man of her +choice, would be just far enough removed from his fireside to give +piquancy to the frequent visits he should receive from her; while the +other would still, for a time, continue to pour out sunshine in the +house, and redouble her love for him by way of compensating for what he +should miss in Sophie's absence. And then the professor built an airier +and a fairer castle still: beneath it lay the heavy clouds of suffering, +barren effort, and hope deferred; its sunlit walls were hewn of solid +faith; the banner which floated over the battlements was woven with +white threads of truth; over the arched entrance-gate was written +"Constancy." Yet, fair and lofty as the castle was, the +building-materials were taken from no less homely edifices than the +village boarding-house and his own Parsonage! + +By-and-by, however, the vision faded, or else the clouds upon which it +was built rose up and hid it. The professor, returning to himself, found +that he was now surrounded with thick darkness, and, strive as he would, +he could paint no fancies upon it which did not partake more or less of +the character of the background. Sophie seemed to have lost the steady +cheer of her aspect; she was pale and fragile, and every moment took +away yet more of earthly substance, till scarcely any thing but the +faint lustre of her face and form remained. Then, all at once, the +features which had heretofore been only sad, changed into an expression +of horror and torture and despair; and, while the professor, himself +aghast, strained his old eyes to make out more clearly the +half-indistinguishable image, it vanished quite away. But, at the last +moment, it had spoken--at least, the lips bad moved as if in speech, +though no sound had reached the professor's ears; yet he fancied he had +caught a glimmering of the purport. He pressed his hands over his +forehead to shut out the thought, and wondered no longer at the +expression upon Sophie's face. + +Then Cornelia moved across the hollow blackness of the room. She was +sunshiny no longer, but morose and stern; her eyebrows were drawn +together; a secret defiance was in her tigerish eyes; her lips were set, +yet seemed, ever and anon, as she turned her face aside, to tremble +with a passionate yearning. As he gazed, she disappeared, but the +professor had a feeling that she was still concealed somewhere in the +darkness. And, at last, she came again--she, or something that looked +like her. The old gentleman shivered and recoiled, as though a +snow-drift had somehow blown into his warm, old heart. Was it his +daughter who looked with those unmeaning eyes, encircled with dark +rings, in which life and passion burned out had left the dull ashes of +remorse and hopelessness? Where were the luminous cheeks and the queenly +step of his proud and beautiful Cornelia?--What words were those? or was +it only fancy?--Ah!--The professor started with a sharp exclamation: but +he was alone in his dark study, and the phantom of Cornelia was gone. + +He composed himself in his chair again, and, presently, a third figure +grew into form and color before him. At first, as a stately young girl, +with the arched feet and hot blood of the south, and her eyes dark and +soft as a Spaniard's; but her beauty lasted but for a moment. A +withering change came over face and figure: she was cold and hard; her +youthful ardor, warmth, and freshness, had been shrivelled up or worn +away. The rich black hair grew rusty, and the dark, delicate complexion +became dull and lustreless. Nevertheless, the professor continued to +look with hopeful expectation, confident that a further alteration would +ensue, which, though, it would not restore the grace of youth, would +give a peace and happiness yet more beautiful. And, indeed, it seemed, +for a moment, as though his expectation would be gratified. The figure +raised its head, and held forth its hands, and the professor's bright +anticipation was reflected in its eyes. But, alas! the brightness faded +almost before it could be affirmed to exist. The hands dropped to the +sides, the head was averted, and the whole form shrank back, and sank to +the ground. For the third time--the professor's imagination was +certainly playing him strange tricks this evening--the ghost of spoken +words appeared to fall upon his ears, and sink like molten lead into his +heart. He groaned, and there was an oppression on his chest, so that he +struggled for breath; but, in another moment, the crouching figure was +gone, and the oppression with it; but drops of sweat stood upon the old +man's broad forehead. + +Still another vision awaits him, however, and he draws himself up +sternly to encounter it, and a heavy frown lowers on his thick gray +eyebrows. But the lofty form which confronts him, massive and stalwart, +alike in mind and body, meets his gaze unflinchingly, and frowns back in +angry defiance. The old professor pauses in his intended denunciation, +being taken aback somewhat, at the unexpected counter-accusation which +strikes out at him from the young man's eyes. Yet do his self-confidence +and indignation become reconfirmed, for there, behind, the three former +phantoms appear together, and seem to launch against the last a deadly +shaft of bitter reproach and judgment. The professor watches it cleave a +passage through the stalwart figure's heart, and he bows his head, and +thinks--it is but justice! In the same instant, a cry of intensest pain +and horror escapes him: the deadly arrow, additionally poisoned by the +blood it has just shed, has passed quite through the spectre of his +former pupil, and is buried up to the feather in Professor Valeyon's +own vitals! This shock effectually wakened the old gentleman--for, after +all, he had only been having an uneasy nap in his straight-backed +chair!--and he started to his feet, and fumbled nervously for the +match-box. Just then, Sophie appeared at the door with a lamp in her +hand--the real Sophie, this time--no intangible shadow. + +"Why, papa dear! What are you doing in here in the dark? Have you been +asleep?" + +"Come here, my dear!" said the professor, in a shaken voice, holding out +his hand. He took her on his knee, and hugged her to him eagerly, +passing his hand down her arm, and pressing her slender fingers. "Are +you well and happy, Sophie?" + +"Yes, papa," she answered, laying her head as usual on his shoulder. + +"He--your--young man didn't come to-day?" continued the professor, with +an attempt to be jocose. "He's getting very squeamish to be kept back by +a snow-storm!" Sophie replied only by nestling closer to her father's +shoulder. + +"Where's Neelie?" inquired the professor, again breaking the silence. + +"She's seeing about supper, I believe." + +"Have you heard any thing about Abbie lately?" proceeded the other. He +must have been either strangely anxious to keep up a conversation, or +unusually inquisitive, this evening. + +"Not very lately; I saw her about a week ago. She didn't look in very +good spirits, it seemed to me." + +"Not in good spirits, eh? not in good spirits? and that was a week ago! +was she ill?" + +"I don't think there was any thing the matter--with her health, I mean; +she only looked very sad--as if something had almost broken her heart. +But then she always is grave, you know." + +"She has been of late years, that's certain," muttered the old man, +gruffly; "and does she begin to be broken-hearted _now_!" he added, to +himself. More thoughts, and angry ones, he might have had, but the +memory of his untoward dream still hovered about him, and he suppressed +them. + +"What are you thinking of, papa?" demanded Sophie, with an inquietude of +manner which attracted the professor's attention. He laid his finger on +her pulse, and touched her forehead. + +"You've taken cold, my dear," he said, with the most tender anxiety of +tone. "What have you been doing? How have you exposed yourself?" + +"I was out on the porch about an hour ago," replied she, languidly. "I +wanted to--to see if he was coming, you know. The snow came on me a +little, I believe, and I had on my slippers. But I didn't feel any +thing--any cold. I was out only a moment." + +Professor Valeyon turned his strong-featured face away from the lamp, so +that the shadow covered his expression. He could feel the heat of +Sophie's cheek through his coat, as she lay heavily on his shoulder; +heavily, but not half so heavily there as upon his heart. But, with the +physician's instinct, his voice was on that account all the more +cheerful. + +"Well, well, my little girl; it won't do to run any risks nowadays, +remember! I shall make you drink a big cup of hot water, with a little +tea and sugar in it, and go to bed early, with three or four extra +blankets. Meanwhile, come! let's go and see whether Cornelia has got +supper ready yet." So saying, the old gentleman gained his feet, +offering his arm with a bow, took up the lamp with his other hand, and +off they went, leaving Shakespeare's plaster bust placidly to face the +darkness alone, as he had often done before. + +The next morning the storm was over, and the sun came dazzling over the +spotless fields, but Sophie kept her bed, with bright, restless eyes, +and hot checks. The professor dreaded a return of the typhoid pneumonia, +and paced his study incessantly, in a voiceless fever of anxiety; +physically exhausting himself the better to affect quiet and unconcern +when in her room. He mentioned his fears to no one--not even to +Cornelia; besides, if care were taken, she might recover yet, without +fatal, or even serious danger. To herself, therefore, and to all who +inquired, he spoke of her attack as merely a cold, which must be nursed +for prudence' sake. Meanwhile, no signs of Bressant. Sophie said not a +word, but Cornelia showed uneasiness, and kept making suggestive remarks +to her father, and hazarding unsatisfactory explanations of his absence. +She never ventured to say any thing to her sister on the subject, +however. There was a gulf between the two that widened like a river, +hour by hour. + +Toward evening a letter came from the boarding-house, directed to +Professor Valeyon. It was in Abbie's handwriting, and must contain some +news of Bressant. The old gentleman shut himself up in his room, the +better to deal with the intelligence, and the paper rustled nervously +in his fingers as he read; but the news amounted to little, after all. + +"For fear dear Sophie and you should feel anxious about Mr. Bressant, I +will tell you all I know of his absence," said the letter. "A telegram +came for him yesterday morning about ten. Joanna, the servant, who took +it up to him, says Mr. Reynolds told her it was from New York. So I +suppose some friend there--you will probably be able to say who--has +been taken very dangerously ill, or perhaps is dead. The summons must +have been very urgent, for he left his room not ten minutes afterward, +and took the half-past ten o'clock train down. + +"I feel sure he will be back by to-morrow evening. Don't let your +daughters fail to be here to meet him." + +After reading this, and without pausing to indulge in casuistry, +Professor Valeyon betook himself straight to Sophie's chamber. + +"You've heard something!" said she, in a low, assured tone the moment he +entered. "A letter? give it me--I would rather read it myself." + +The professor gave it into her hand, with a smile; but Sophie's eyes +were too deep and dark for any smile to glimmer through. As she opened +it he turned his back upon her, and saw out of the window the sinking +sun redden the snow-covered hill-top above the road. + +"Yes, I'm sure he will be back to-morrow," said Sophie's quiet voice +after a minute or two. She made no comment on his having allowed any +thing to take him away at such a time--on the eve of his +marriage--without first sending word to her; but gave Abbie's letter +back into her father's keeping, and lay with closed eyes. He sat down in +the chair by the bedside, and presently noticed that she lay more +peacefully, and breathed inaudibly and easily, and that the feverish +flush was leaving her cheeks. A slight moisture, too, made itself +perceptible on her forehead. + +"Her life is in this fellow's hand!" thought the professor, and he +trembled to his very heart, but dared not ask himself wherefore. + +"Do you really think it would hurt me to sew, dear papa?" said she, at +length, looking up from her pillow. + +"Better let sewing and every thing else alone for the present, my dear; +it'll be enough work to get all well again by next Sunday." + +Sophie sighed. "I did so want to finish my wedding-dress all myself," +said she. "It needs only a few hours' work now, and Cornelia is so busy +on her own account, it's hard to ask her. Oh, yes! dear papa, I know how +glad she'd be to help me," she added quickly, seeing the old gentleman's +eyebrows meet, and his forehead redden. + +"I should hope she would! Must be very busy if she hasn't time to do so +much as that!" growled he. "I'll send her up to you, my dear." + +"Papa!" said Sophie, calling him back from the door; and it was not +until she had possession of his hand and was holding it against her +cheek that she went on. "Don't let the wedding be put off, if I +shouldn't be able to sit up on Sunday. I'll be carried down into the +guest-chamber, where he was ill for so long. Don't--papa, I know you +won't think hardly of me; but I feel a kind of superstition about that +particular day and hour: that if all is not done then, it never will be. +Am not I foolish? But do let it be so, and never mind wisdom!" + +There was a vein of strenuous earnestness only partly concealed beneath +her words and manner, which the gruff old gentleman, who was as +sensitive as a photographic plate, where his affections were concerned, +did not fail to note. He kissed her on both cheeks--a fully sufficient +answer to her request, and shuffled out of the room in his old slippers; +which, thanks to Sophie's filial attentions, still held together with +dying faith fulness. + +The rest of the day the two sisters passed together--Cornelia working +upon her sister's wedding-dress, and Sophie guiding her by directions +and suggestions. Not since they first began to grow apart, had there +been between them so great an appearance of sisterly love and +cordiality. Yet, if Cornelia allowed herself to think at all, it must +have seemed, in the light of her purpose regarding Bressant, as if she +was preparing a shroud rather than a wedding-garment. Or, perhaps, as +she observed the change which even so brief and light an illness had +made in Sophie's delicate face, there may have lurked, in the secret +places of her mind, a darker and guiltier thought than that. But let not +our condemnation be too unconditional, lest the precedent come home, +some day, to ourselves. It may astonish us, hereafter, to discover how +many of our most respectable acquaintances are murderers--only in +thought! + +But Sophie's condition seemed steadily to improve, and, by the morning +of the 30th, the professor apprehended no danger but from imprudence. +That she should attend Abbie's party was, of course, out of the +question; but there was no longer any obstacle in the way of Cornelia's +availing herself of the entertainment, if she were so inclined. + +Deadly and immitigable as woman's purpose is often represented to be, it +may, especially before she becomes thoroughly hardened to crime, be +swayed by shades of feeling or sentiment which would appear, to a man, +ridiculously trifling, and which, indeed, she could not herself explain +or calculate upon; and there is the more likelihood of this, in +proportion to the depth to which her emotions and affections are +involved in the affair. As to Cornelia, there are no means of +determining whether she ever wavered in her designs against her sister's +happiness, and her friend's constancy, or not; she, at any rate, decided +to go to the ball, and even condescended to accept Mr. Reynolds's tender +of his escort thither. There are a host of respectable motives always on +hand for such occasions, and Cornelia might be going either from a +curiosity to find out whether Bressant would return, and in order, if +so, to bring her sister the latest news; or, to obtain relief from the +monotony of home-life; or, to oblige Abbie, who counted upon her +appearance; or, to display her ball-dress, cut after the latest New-York +pattern; or, all these small matters may have been the wheels whereon +rolled the invisible car, but for which they would not have existed. + +As she was attiring herself, Sophie, who was seated in her deep +invalid-chair, looking at her, was seized by an uncontrollable longing +to put on her wedding-dress, and satisfy her mind as to its being a good +fit. There it lay, upon the sofa, and nothing could be easier than just +to slip into it. Cornelia, absorbed in her own crowded thoughts, never +dreamed of opposing the idea, and lent all necessary assistance to carry +it out. It was not until Mr. Reynolds had sent up word that the sleigh +waited at the door, and, gathering up her cloak and tippet, she had +kissed Sophie, left her, and was hurrying down-stairs with rustling +skirts, that she realized that she had given her parting salute to one +dressed as a bride! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +A DISAPPOINTMENT. + + + +There could not have been a better night for sleighing. The temperature +had risen considerably since the storm, and the snow, which had fallen +to the depth of a foot, was already packed down hard upon the road, so +that the runners seldom sank beneath the surface. Moreover, there was a +full moon, just pushing its deep orange circumference above the horizon. +It had chanced to come up just where a black skeleton forest stood out +against the sky, encouraging the fancy that it had somehow got entangled +in the branches, and had grown red in the face from struggling to get +out. But, ere the young people reached the scene of the entertainment, +the struggle was over; the perfect circle was calmly and radiantly +uplifting itself above the world, far beyond the reach of the +outstretched arms of the gnarled and black-limbed forest; yet did the +dark earth benefit by its defeat, in the chaste illumination which +descended upon its wintry countenance. + +Mr. Reynolds was perfectly happy; it is pleasant to reflect how small an +amount of bliss can overflow some souls. Cornelia was brief but kind in +her answers to his turbid and confused pourings forth; not that she paid +heed to any thing the poor fellow said--she was only occasionally aware +of his presence. Her mind was revelling in dreams of heated and exalted +imagination; she was filled with inspiration, as with the rich, +palpitating blast of a mighty organ; but the tumultuous chorus of her +thoughts produced upon her an effect of magnetism which found its +expression in a gentle graciousness of words and manner. + +She had made up her mind that the first person she should meet would be +Bressant; and, so full did she feel of victorious power, it seemed as +if, with scarcely a conscious effort, she could overbear and bring him +to her feet. Yes, and dictate the terms upon which she would consent to +receive his homage. What a pity that the key-notes of so few natures +correspond, at the critical moment, with our own; and that Providence +sees fit to forward, by even negative help, so small a proportion of our +superbly-conceived plans! + +It was half-past eight when they drew up at the boarding-house door. No +sooner had Cornelia set foot within the threshold, and caught sight of +Abbie's face, than it was borne in upon her that Bressant was not there; +and the former, after questioning her about Sophie's non-appearance, +confirmed her fear. He had not come, nor was it now probable that he +would arrive before morning. It would have been useless to expect him by +the late train, due at half-past ten, since, to avail himself of that, +it would be necessary to make a difficult connection by walking two or +three miles from one railway to another. + +After climbing to such a height, it was terrible to fall. Cornelia +had not allowed herself to anticipate the disaster, precisely because +it was so crashing. In a moment the great, rainbow-tinted bubble of her +hope and imagination had burst, leaving only a bitter and unpleasant +sense of the paltry and unclean materials--the soap-suds and +clay-pipe--wherewith it had been created. + +Furthermore, the polite fictions which she had lubricated her conscience +withal, regarding her desires and intentions, were shown up at precisely +their true value, and a very discreditable spectacle they made. Nothing +is more exasperating after a failure than to be stared out of +countenance by the unworthy means we have employed. During her progress +up-stairs to the dressing-room, and brief stay there, Cornelia had ample +leisure to review her thoughts and deeds during the latter months of her +life. What a waste of time, opportunity, and emotion! It was a tragedy +of ridicule and a farce of profound pathos. + +Her perception of these things was assisted by the depression which +reacted upon her previous excitement: it had an embarrassing way of +presenting, in the clearest colors, whatever in her conduct had been +most unwise and indefensible. She could have borne it easily had there +been as much as one stirring struggle for victory, even had the struggle +resulted in defeat. Her state of mind might have borne analogy to his +who, having deeply caroused overnight in celebration of some glorious +triumph, learned, upon coming to his racked and tortured senses the next +day, that it was a triumph for the other side. + +Had the sense of despair been less overwhelming, had Cornelia been +merely disappointed, rage would have taken the place of depression, and +her thoughts would have run in far different channels. But there was no +hope: this was her last chance of all: hereafter a rampart would be +erected against her, which she neither was able nor dared to scale. +There was no element in her position that could make it endurable, and +yet there was no escape. She had not enough spirit of enterprise left to +return home at once, but yielded herself with torpid insensibility to +whoever chose to make a suggestion. She wonderingly speculated as to how +she had ever been able to originate an idea herself. + +The evening dragged its slow length along, and dragged Cornelia with it. +To be where she was, was insupportable; but to go back to the Parsonage +was worse still; and the thought of the solitary drive thither with the +overflowing Mr. Reynolds filled her with a nauseating pain of +anticipation. + +It could not have been far from midnight when she awoke to a sense of +being alone and not far from the side-door into the yard. Her +partner--whoever he was--had gone to get her some ice-cream or a cup of +coffee. Cornelia did not wait for his return, but walked quickly and +unobserved to the door, which stood a few inches ajar, opened it, passed +through, and stood in the unconfined air. The keen intensity of the +tonic made her nostrils ache, and her uncovered bosom heave. She +unbuttoned one of her gloves, and, taking some snow in her hand, pressed +it to her warm temples, and then let it drop shivering into her breast. + +"It must feel like that to die, I suppose," thought she. "If I were +Sophie, now, that snow would be the death of me in two days: as it is, I +shall only have a cold in the head to-morrow. There seems to be no +reason in these things." + +A dark figure turned the farther corner of the house, and came +ploughing through the snow immediately under the eaves, dragging one +hand along the clapboards as it came. The crunching of the snow caught +Cornelia's ears, and she turned and recognized the figure in half a +breath. The great height, the massive breadth, the easy, springing +tread--it was Bressant from head to foot. He was buttoned up in a short +pea-jacket, and there was a round fur cap on his head. As Cornelia +turned upon him, he stopped a moment, standing quite motionless, with +the fingers of one hand resting on the side of the house. Then he came +close up to her and grasped her wrist with his gloved hand. + +"Where is Sophie?" demanded he in his rapid, muffled voice. + +"She's ill: she caught cold: she's at home," answered Cornelia, who, at +the first recognition, had felt a kind of twang through all her nerves, +and was now trying to control the effects of the shock. There was +something queer in Bressant's manner--in the way he looked at her. + +"But you came," rejoined he, stooping down and peering into her +beautiful, troubled face. He broke into a laugh, which terrified +Cornelia greatly, because he laughed so seldom. "One might know you'd +come. You thought I'd be here: you came to see me, and here I am. Will +Sophie get well?" + +"Oh, yes! she was much better. When I left she had on +her--wedding-dress." + +Bressant drew in his breath hissingly between his teeth, and his fingers +tightened a moment round Cornelia's wrist. The pain forced a sob from +her and turned her lips pale. He paid no attention to her, presently +dropped her wrist, and put his hands behind him, grinding the snow +beneath his heel, and looking down. + +"Whom is she going to marry?" was his next question, asked without +raising his head. + +"You!" exclaimed Cornelia, in astonishment and fear. The answer sprang +to her lips without forethought or reflection, so much had the strange +question startled her. + +But he again stooped down and peered into her eyes, watching the effect +of his words on her as he spoke them. + +"No, no! I am not he who promised to marry her. She wouldn't have me, if +I asked her: she don't know me. I'm going to marry some one else. +_She'll_ love me, no matter who I am. Shall I tell you her name?" + +Cornelia could only shiver--shiver--with dry mouth and dilated eyes. +Bressant put his hand on her shoulder, and drew her forward a step or +two, so that the white moonlight fell upon her. + +"Cornelia Valeyon is her name," said he, and then, as she remained +rigid, he bent forward, with a whispered laugh, and kissed her on the +face. + +"There! now we belong to each other--a good match, aren't we? Quick! +now; run into the house, and get your things on. You must walk home with +me, and we'll arrange every thing. Go! I shall wait for you here." + +She reentered the house, cold and dizzy, just as her partner arrived +with the coffee. She explained--what scarcely needed to be told--that +she felt faint: she must go up-stairs. In three minutes she had put her +satin-slippered feet into a pair of water-proof overshoes, pinned up +her trailing skirts, thrown on her long wadded mantle, with sleeves and +hood, and had got down-stairs again before "assistance" could arrive. +All the time, there was a burning and tingling where his lips had been, +but she would not put up her hand to touch the spot, and relieve the +sensation. It was, in a manner, sacred to her; albeit the sanctity was +largely mingled with bewilderment, remorse, and fear. When she came out, +Bressant was standing where she had left him, tossing a couple of +snow-balls from one hand to another. He dropped them as she approached, +and brushed the snow from his gloves. She took the arm he offered +her--timidly, and yet feeling that it was all in the world she had to +cling to. It was true--by that kiss she belonged to him, for it had made +her a traitor to all else on whom she had hitherto had a claim. Yet upon +how different a footing did they stand with one another from that which +she had prefigured to herself! This was he whom she was to have brought +vanquished to her feet! With one motion of his strong, masculine hand he +had swept away all her fine-spun cobwebs of opportunity and method, and +had laid his clutch upon the very marrow of her soul. But though she had +lost the command, she was party, if not principal, to the guilt. It was +he who had taken fire from her. + +"You remember last summer," said he, "that night when an arch was in the +sky? We didn't understand one another then, and I didn't understand +myself. But, during the last day or two, I've been thinking it all over. +I've had too good an opinion of myself all along." + +"What is it that you've been thinking?" asked Cornelia, feeling +repelled, and yet driven, by a piteous necessity, to know all the +contents, good or bad, of this heart which was her only possession. + +"Of all that had been said or done this last half-year. There's nothing +you care for more than me, is there?" he demanded, concentrating the +greatest emphasis into the question. + +"If you care for me--if I can be every thing to you"--Cornelia's voice +was broken and tossed upon the uncontrolled waves of fighting emotions, +and she could give little care to the form and manner of her speech. + +"I love you--of course I love you!--what else is there for me to do? But +I've been all this time trying to find out what love was. I thought I +loved Sophie, you know." + +Bressant's strange words and altered manner dismayed Cornelia. What was +the matter with him? She could not get it out of her head that some +awful event must have happened, but she knew not how to frame inquiries. +Bressant continued--a determined levity in his tone was yet occasionally +broken down by a stroke of feeling terribly real: + +"I was a great fool--you should have told me; you knew more about it +than I did. It was my self-conceit--I thought nothing was too good for +me. When I saw you I thought you were the flower of the world, so I +wanted you. Well--you are--the flower of the world!" + +"He does love me!" said Cornelia to herself, and she knew a momentary +pang of bliss which no consideration of honor or rectitude had power to +dull or diminish. + +"But, afterward," he went on, his voice lowering for an instant, "I saw +an angel--something above all the flowers of this world--and I was fool +enough to imagine she would suit me better still. You never thought so, +did you, Cornelia?" he added, with a half laugh; "well--you should have +told me!" + +How he dragged her up and down, and struck her where she was most +defenseless! Did he do it on purpose, or unconsciously? + +"I mistook worship for love--that was the trouble, I fancy. Luckily, I +found out in time it won't do to love what is highest--it can only make +one mad. Love what you can understand--that's the way! See how wise I've +become." + +Bressant's laugh affected Cornelia like a deadly drug. Her speech was +fettered, and she moved without her own will or guidance. + +"I found out--just in time--that I needed more body and less soul--less +goodness and--more Cornelia!" he concluded, epigrammatically. + +So this was her position. It could hardly be more humiliating. Yet how +could she rebel? for was not the yoke of her own manufacture? Indeed, +had she been put to it, she might have found it a difficult matter to +distinguish between the actual relation now subsisting between Bressant +and herself, and that which she had been, for months past, striving to +effect. He had met her half-way, that was all. + +But surely it was only during this absence that this idea of abandoning +Sophie, and turning to herself, had occurred to him. Half as a question, +half as an exclamation, the words found their way through Cornelia's +twitching lips-- + +"What has happened to you since you went away?" + +"Oh! since we love each other, there's no use talking about that at +present. If I had any idea of marrying Sophie, now, I should have to go +and tell her every thing. It's so convenient to be certain that +_nothing_ can change your love for me, Cornelia! No, no! I wouldn't be +so suspicious of you as to tell you now." + +"When am I to know, then?" she asked, fearful of she knew not what. + +"After we're married, there shall be a clearing up of it all. You'll be +much amused! By-the-way, I found out one queer thing--what my real name +is!" + +"Your real name!" + +"Yes--who I am; you know I said I wasn't the same who was engaged to +marry Sophie. Well, I'm not; he was a myth--there was no such person. I +always thought 'Bressant' was an _incognito_, didn't you? But it turns +out to be the only name I have! I hope you like it; do you think 'Mrs. +Bressant' sounds well?" + +"What does all this mean? What are you going to do with me? Are you +making a sport of me?" cried Cornelia, clasping both hands over +Bressant's arm, in a passion of helplessness. Much as she loved life, +she would, at that moment, have died rather than feel that she was +ridiculed and deserted by him. + +They had come to the brow of the hill on which the village stood, +overlooking the valley, which moon and snow together lit up into a sort +of phantom daylight. The moon hung aloft, directly above their heads, +and the narrow circumference of their shadows, lying close at their +feet, were mingled indistinguishably together. Cornelia, in the energy +of her appeal, had stopped walking, and the two stood, for a moment, +looking at one another. Seen from a few yards' distance, they would have +made a supremely beautiful and romantic picture. + +The stately poise of Bressant's gigantic figure--the slight inclination +of his head and shoulders toward Cornelia--presented an ideal model for +a tender and protecting lover. She, in form and bearing, the incarnation +of earthly grace and symmetry, her lovely upturned face revealed in +deep, soft shadows and sweet, melting lights, her rounded fingers +interlaced across his arm, her bosom lifting and letting fall +irregularly the cloak that lay across it--what completer embodiment +could there be of happy, self-surrendering, trusting, young womanhood? +And what were the fitly-spoken words--the apples of gold in this picture +of silver? + +"Cornelia," said Bressant, throwing aside the levity, as well as the +underlying passion, of his tone, and speaking with a slightly impatient +coldness, "don't you begin to be a fool as soon as I leave it off. You +may call what joins us together love, if you like, but it's not worth +getting excited about. You take me because you were jealous of Sophie, +and because you've compromised yourself. I take you because you're +beautiful to look at, and--because nobody else would have me! We shall +have plenty of money, which will help us along. But what is there in our +relations to make us either enthusiastic or miserable?--Come along!" + +This was the consummation of Cornelia's passionate hopes and torturing +fears, of her dishonorable intriguing and reckless self-desecration. She +became very calm all of a sudden, and, without making any rejoinder, she +"came along" as he bade her, and they descended the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +FOUND. + + + +Sophie, having carried her point regarding her wedding-dress, had +nothing better to do after Cornelia had left her than to give herself up +to reverie. She had a private purpose to sit up until her sister's +return, that she might hear all about Bressant, and why he had stayed +away so long and sent no word. That he had returned, expecting to meet +her at the ball, she entertained not the slightest doubt; nor was there +at this time any suspicion or misgiving in her mind about his fidelity +and love. + +Mankind's ignorance of the future is, beyond dispute, a blessing; yet we +could wish, for Sophie, that so much presentiment of what was to come +might be hers as to lead her to concentrate all possible happy thoughts +into the few hours that remained wherein she might yet be happy. She had +full scope and freedom to think what she would--no less than if a +hundred years of earthly bliss had awaited her. Her life had been full +of all manner of spiritual beauties and perfumes--a divine poem, though +written upon clay. Let only the harmony of sweet music float about her +now, and the shadow of what was to come be not cast over her. + +She sat in her deep, soft easy-chair, with its high back, and square, +roomy seat. An open-grate stove furnished light to the room, for Sophie +had blown out her candle. As the flame rose or sank, the various objects +round about stood visible, or vanished duskily away. Endymion, over the +mantel-piece, still slept as peacefully as ever, and the smile, though +forever upon his lips, seemed always to have but that moment alighted +there. How tenderly the lustrous touch of the moon brightened on his +white shoulder! + +The golden letters of the Lord's Prayer gleamed ever and anon from the +shadow above the bed, and sent the shining beauty of a sentence across +to Sophie's eyes; and the face of the cherub, with his chin upon his +hand, was turned upward in immortal adoration. Sophie's glance rested +thoughtfully upon one and then the other. They were incorporated into +her life. Would they have power to protect her from evil and suffering? +Well, the words of the Prayer settle that question most wisely. + +How silent the house was and how light it was out-doors! Sophie rose +from her chair by the fire and walked slowly to the window. A board +creaked beneath her quiet foot and a red coal fell with a gentle thud +into the ash-receiver. Then, as Sophie leaned against the window, she +heard the little ormolu clock, in the room below, faintly tinkle out the +half-hour after eleven. Before long--in an hour, perhaps--Cornelia would +be back, rosy with the cold, fresh, laughing, and full of news. Dear +Neelie! How Sophie wished that she might find a love as deep and a +happiness as perfect as had come to her. It hardly seemed fair that she +should monopolize so much of the world's joy. True, God knows best; but +Sophie, with her forehead against the cold window-pane, prayed that +Cornelia might speedily become as blessed as herself. Then she turned +to go back to her chair, casting a parting glance at the white road, +with the glistening track of sleigh-runners visible as far as the bend. +No moving thing was in sight. In stepping from the window her foot +caught in the skirt of her wedding-dress, and she narrowly escaped +falling. The loose board creaked again, dismally; but Sophie laughed at +her clumsiness, and, recovering her balance, reached her chair and sat +down in it. How warm and pleasant it was! The walls of the room seemed +to draw up cozily around the stove, and nod to one another +good-naturedly. They loved Sophie and would do all they could to make +her comfortable and secure. She sat quite still, and perhaps fell into a +light, half-waking slumber. + +A while afterward, she suddenly started in her chair, her head raised, +as if listening. The fire burnt as warmly as ever, but Sophie was +trembling incontrollably, and her heart was beating most unmercifully. +She walked quickly and blindly, with outstretched hands, to the window. +This time the ominous board forbore to creak. Its omen was fulfilled. + +Without hesitating, she threw up the window, and, unmindful of the +tingling inrush of cold air, she leaned out, and looked down through the +arched window of the porch. The bare vines that struggled across it +afforded no interception to the view of the two figures standing within. +Sophie gazed at them as a bird does at a snake; she could not take her +eyes away; she could not move nor utter a sound. It was like the +oppression and paralysis of a fearful dream. Was she dreaming? + +It was a terribly vivid dream, at any rate. She seemed to see one of +the figures--a woman--clasp the man's hand passionately in hers and +speak. The voice was known to her; it was as familiar as her own; but +the words it uttered made her sure she was asleep. Thank God! it wasn't +real. She would wake up in a moment, and shudder to think how ugly a +dream it had been. Oh, if she could only awaken before this conversation +went any further! It was breaking her heart: it was killing her. She had +heard of people who died in their sleep--was it from such dreams as +this? + +She seemed to have heard two voices--voices that she loved and knew as +well as her own heart--talking a horrible, unholy jargon about some +purpose--some plan--something that it was a sin even to listen to or +imagine; but, as in a dream, she had no choice but to listen. She tried +to shake off the delusion--to see, to prove that what she saw and heard +was false. But still it lasted, and lasted. Still those wicked sentences +kept creeping into her ears and deadening her heart. O God! would it +never cease--would there never be an end? + +At length the end seemed about to come. But, ah! the end was worst of +all. Shame--shame to her that such sinful imaginings should visit her +brain. She saw the figure of the man turn away as if to go; but the +woman caught him by the arm, and lifted her beautiful, guilty face up +toward his as if beseeching him for a parting kiss. She saw him stoop +his dark, bearded head, with a half-impatient gesture, and kiss the +beautiful woman's mouth, then motion her toward the house. "Make haste +and put on your travelling dress," he seemed to say; "I'll walk up the +road a little way and wait for you." + +Sophie found power to slip down from the window after that, but she knew +she was dreaming still. She heard a stealthy footstep on the stairs and +along the entry; it seemed to pause, and hesitate a moment at her door; +but then it went on and entered Cornelia's room. If she only could go to +her lover, Sophie thought. If she only could speak to him and feel his +arms around her. And why should she not? he had but just gone up the +road. She would slip out and run after him. It was deadly cold: she was +in her white wedding-dress. Yes; but then it was a dream--nothing but a +dream--no harm could come of it. + +She lifted herself softly from the floor, and moved toward the door. She +passed the looking-glass on the dressing-table as she went, and cast a +darkling glance into it. A haggard ghost seemed to stare back at her, +with crazy eyes. A braid of brown, silky hair had become loosened, and +was creeping down upon the spectre's shoulders. + +Sophie stole along as noiselessly as a cat. She descended the staircase, +glided down the passage, opened the outer door, and was on the frozen +porch. The chill of the air passed through her as if she had been indeed +but a spirit. The dream must surely be a dream of death. She ran down +the icy path to the gate, and, looking along the road, saw that a tall +figure had nearly reached the spur of the hill, around which the road +turned. By hurrying she would yet be able to over-take him. She passed +through the gate without causing a creak or a rattle, gathered up her +light skirt, and started to run as speedily as she might. + +The cold snow penetrated through her thin slippers and made her feet +ache and sting. The breeze forced a cruel entrance through the bosom of +her dress, as if to freeze the heart that was beating so. As she ran on, +she began to pant so heavily it seemed as if every breath must be her +last. The familiar road, the well-known outline of the hills, the +stone-walls, the stretch of woods to the left, where she had walked so +often last fall, all looked now ghastly and unreal--a world whose only +sun was the moon--a fitting world for such a dream as this. + +Still she staggered onward, slipping in the polished ruts of the +sleigh-runners, plunging into the deep snow. Her body was cold as the +winter itself, but her head was burning as if a fire were within it. She +reached the bend, and her eyes strained wildly up the road. There! far +ahead, marked black against the ghastly snow--there! still moving +away--farther away. Would she ever reach him? + +It was hopeless, and yet she kept on. Rather than let him go without +having assured her it was all a wicked dream--without having hugged her +in his arms, and given her her good-night kiss--without having called +her his own, only Sophie, and promised he would always love her and no +other--rather than give up all this, she would die in the pursuit, and +it were well that she should die. So on she ran: her brain reeled, she +could scarcely feel whether her limbs yet moved: there was a griping in +her heart, and her breath came in short gasps of agony. The earth +darkened and tipped before her eyes, but her resolve never faltered. To +reach him, or die. Oh! how gladly she would die, if only she might +reach him. Was not that he--there--only a short way on? Might not her +voice reach him? Would not some good angel bear it to him? Even then she +stumbled, and fell forward on her knees; but, ere she sank quite down, +she threw forth a wild, piercing, despairing cry, giving to it her whole +desolate soul-- + +"Bressant! Bressant!" + +Then blackness obliterated every thing. But Bressant, as he walked +heavily along, encompassed with bitter and miserable thoughts, suddenly +halted, as if an iron hand had been laid upon his shoulder. Either he +had actually heard a faint echo of that unearthly cry, or his spiritual +ear had taken cognizance of the call of Sophie's soul. He turned himself +about, with a quaking heart. There was the long white road, but no human +being was visible upon it. Yet he knew that Sophie's voice had called +him. She must be near. Slowly he began to walk back, half dreading to +behold her image rise before him, with deep, reproachful eyes. + +He had not gone twenty yards, when he started back, having almost set +his foot upon something which lay face downward in the snow, clad in a +dress almost as white. He would not have seen her but for her brown +hair, which, falling loosely about, was caught and stirred by the +inquisitive breeze. She herself lay quite still. + +Bressant took her beneath the arms, and lifted her up. Crouching down, +he supported her head against his shoulder, and brushed away the snow +that had adhered to her face. There was a cut upon her chin, but the +blood, after running a few moments, had congealed. Her eyes were not +quite shut, but the lids were stiff and immovable. The mouth, too, was a +little open. Was it the moonlight that gave her that death-like look? or +was she dead indeed? + +The young man broke out into a long, wavering cry. It was not weeping; +it was not laughter; yet it bore a resemblance to both. It curdled his +own blood, but he could not repress it. It was the voice of +overstrained, unendurable emotion, and a horrible voice it was to hear. +He feared he was losing his senses--looking in that white, motionless +face, and uttering such a cry! At last, however, it died away, and there +was silence. The silence was almost worse than the cry--the utter +silence of a winter night. + +"What shall I do?" he said to himself, helplessly. + +The unearthly voice, and the discovery to which it had led, following +the other events of the night, had made Bressant unfit to deal with this +matter after his usual ready and practical style. But he would have +found the problem an awkward one at his best. How could he appear at the +Parsonage? What account could he give there of this lifeless body? What +account could he give of it to himself? He was utterly bewildered and +aghast. It seemed that the dead had risen from the grave, to drag him +relentlessly back to the fullest glare of earthly ignominy--to the +keenest experience of human suffering. And yet, did he quite deserve it? +Was there no grain of leaven in his lump of sinfulness and weakness, if +all were known? He is a hardened criminal, indeed, who can find no hope +in the thought of appealing from human judgment to Divine! + +Meanwhile, Mr. Reynolds had been luxuriating in a very unmistakable +sense of injury. To some persons there are a positive relief and +gratification in being really wronged: it raises their estimate of their +own importance: by virtue of their title to feel angry, disappointed, or +deceived, they can take their place in a higher than their ordinary +rank. So Mr. Reynolds, finding himself qualified to plead a clear case +of absolute and unwarrantable desertion, held up his head, and bore +himself with becoming dignity. + +His dignity did not, however, interfere with his seeking to drown his +slight in the good, old-fashioned way. He solaced himself beyond +prudence with the varied products of the hotel bar, and then settled +himself solitary in his sleigh and jingled homeward. His road took him +past the Parsonage, and he enlivened the lonely way by scraps of songs, +reflections upon the perfidy of women, and portentous yawns at intervals +of two or three minutes. In fact, by the time he had gone a mile the +most predominant sensation he had was sleepiness, and half a mile more +came very near making a second Endymion of him. From this, however, he +was preserved by the very sudden stoppage of his sleigh, which threw him +on his knees against the dasher, and forcibly knocked his eyes open. He +rolled over to the ground, but, happening to light on his feet, he stood +unsteadily erect, and asked a very tall and powerful man, who was +holding his horse's head, when he was going to let that drop? + +Receiving no intelligible answer, he stumbled in the powerful man's +direction, perhaps contemplating the performance of some deed of +desperate valor. Meanwhile the object of his hostility had relinquished +his hold of the horse, and appeared kneeling on the ground, supporting +the form of a woman, dressed in a tasteful white dress, with dark, +disordered hair lying around her colorless face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +LOST. + + +Mr. Reynolds immediately paused, and regarded this group for some +moments with an air of singular sagacity and archness. + +"I say, young fellow," ejaculated he, at length, with an evident effort +to attain distinctness of utterance, "that sort of thing won't do, you +know." + +Bressant looked up and recognized the rustic bacchanalian for the first +time. He had always had a peculiar antipathy to this young gentleman; +but at this moment it was intensified into a loathing. How could he ask +assistance from such a degraded creature as this? + +The recognition had been mutual, and Mr. Reynolds, tacking unsteadily +around, brought himself to bear in such a position as to catch a fair +view of Sophie's face, with the spot of blood on her chin. The first +glance so terrified him, that he utterly, forsook his footing, and came +abruptly to the ground, never once taking his eyes from the face, all +the way. But the shock of his fall, and the awful solemnity of what he +saw, sobered him considerably. He turned to Bressant, and eyed him with +anxious earnestness. + +"Why, you're the fellow she's engaged to, ain't you? What on earth's +been the row? She ain't dead, is she? How did she get here? In her +wedding-rig, too, by golly!" + +Bressant's frame vibrated with a savage impulse; but Mr. Reynolds, not +being of a sensitive temperament, was not at all disconcerted. + +"Well, say, I guess she'd better be fetched home, first thing," said he, +bestirring himself to arise from the chilly seat he had taken. "Lucky I +happened along, too. Guess you was hoping I might, wasn't you? Well, you +hoist her under the arms, and I'll hang on by the feet--ain't that it? +and we'll have her into the sleigh in no time." + +"Don't touch her!" said the other, fiercely. "Let her alone, you drunken +fool!" + +"Now, look here, Mr. Bressant," rejoined Bill Reynolds, resting his +hands on his knees, and looking intently in Bressant's face, "I may not +be rich and a swell, like you are; but I guess I'm an honest man, any +way, as much as ever you be; and I ain't insulting nobody by helping +take home a poor frozen girl. I don't care if she is engaged to you. You +don't mean to keep her here till morning do you? and seeing she ain't +married yet, I guess the right place for her to be in, is her father's +house." + +Perhaps it was the moonlight, glinting on Bill's immovable eye-glasses, +that gave extraordinary impressiveness to his words; or it may have been +Bressant's reflection, that this young country bumpkin, sullied with +drink, coarse and ignorant though he was, would have probably found his +sense of equality in no way diminished, had he known more of the facts +to which the present catastrophe was a sequel; at all events, he made no +further objections. His manner changed to an almost submissive +humbleness, and, without more words, he helped Bill to place the +insensible woman in the sleigh. + +"That's the talk," remarked Mr. Reynolds, as he drew the sleigh-robe +over her. "Now, then, Mr. Bressant, just you jump in and hold on to her, +and I'll lead the horse along. We'll be there in half a shake." + +"No," replied Bressant, after a mental conflict as violent as it was +brief; "I'll lead the horse myself." The only pleasure now left to this +young man was to insult and torture himself to the utmost of his +ingenuity. He had forfeited all right to protect or care for Sophie, and +it was with a savage satisfaction that he resigned it to Bill Reynolds, +as being the worthier and better man. It was the quixoticism of +self-degradation, but was doubtless not without some wholesome +influence. + +In three minutes more they were at the Parsonage-gate. They made a +stretcher of the sleigh-robe, and carried Sophie in on it. The gate, +flapping-to behind them, sounded like a fretful and querulous complaint. +As they mounted the porch-steps, which creaked and crackled beneath +their weight, the door was opened by Cornelia, in her travelling-dress. +Her face expressed so vividly the unspeakable horror which she felt as +her eyes rested on her sister's half-opened lids, that Bressant, seeing +it, was stricken anew with the perception of his own misery. As Cornelia +looked up from the pure and innocent features--which never had worn an +awful and forbidding expression until now, when all power of expression +was gone--her glance and Bressant's met; but, after a moment's +encounter, both dropped their eyes, with an involuntary shudder. Their +trial and sentence were condensed into so seemingly brief a space. + +But Bill Reynolds neither dealt in nor appreciated such refinements upon +the good old ways of communicating sentiments. + +"Good-evening, Miss Valeyon," exclaimed he. "I guess we didn't expect to +see one another again to-night. Pray don't imagine, miss, that I bear +you any grudge. At times like this personal considerations don't +count--not with me. I'll shake hands with you, Miss Valeyon, first +chance I get, and we'll be just as much friends as ever we was before. +That's the right way, I guess." + +The door of the guest-chamber stood open, and the sleigh-robe, with its +burden, was laid upon the bed whereon Bressant had spent so many weary +days. Then the voice of the professor, who had been awakened by the +noise and the sound of feet, was heard from the top of the stairs, +demanding to know what was the matter. + +"Come down," said Bressant, stepping to the guest-chamber door. "Be +quick!" + +He spoke more slowly and deeply than was his wont. In spite--or perhaps +in consequence--of his abasement, forlornness, and unworthiness, he +showed a dignity and impressiveness which were novel in him. The +boyishness, vivacity, and motion, had quite vanished. There were a depth +and hollowness in his eyes which gave a singular power to his face. +There must have been a vein of genuine strength and nobleness in the +man, or he would have been too much crushed to show any thing but weak +despair or brutal sullenness. Had Professor Valeyon's attention been +directed to the point, he might have recognized his pupil as being now +thoroughly grounded in the elements of emotional experience. + +The old gentleman, in dressing-gown and slippers, came thumping hastily +down-stairs, in response to Bressant's summons. The strange solemnity in +the latter's tone, no less than the ominousness of the hour, probably +gave him premonition of some disaster. He reached the threshold of the +room, and paused a moment there, settling his spectacles with trembling +fingers, and looking from one silent face to another. The room was +lighted only by the declining moon, which shone coldly through the +windows. The bed, and that which was on it, were in shadow. In an +instant or two, however, the professor's eyes made the discovery to +which none of those who stood about had had the nerve to help him. And +then the old man proved himself to be the most stout-hearted of them +all. He only said "Sophie" in a voice so profoundly indrawn as scarcely +to be audible; then walked unfalteringly across the room, bent over the +bed, and proceeded to examine whether there were yet life in his +daughter or not. Even the moonlight seemed to wait and listen. + +"Bring a candle," said be, presently, breaking the awful silence. + +Cornelia brought it, and the warmer light inspired a sickly flicker of +hope into the expectant faces. The little ormolu-clock on the +mantel-piece whirred, and struck half-past one. As the ring of the last +stroke faded away, Professor Valeyon raised himself, and turned his face +toward the others. So strongly did his soul inform his harsh and +deeply-lined features, that it seemed, for a moment, as if there were a +majestic angel where he stood. + +"Be of good cheer," quoth the old man--for no smaller words than those +which Christ had spoken seemed adequate to clothe his thought; "she is +not dead; we shall hear her speak again." + +Bressant threw up his arms, as if about to shout aloud; but only gave +utterance to a gasping breath, and, stepping backward, leaned heavily +against the wall, near the door. Cornelia, standing in the centre of the +room, broke into quivering, lingering sobs, opening and clinching her +hands, which hung at her side. Bill Reynolds, however, being overcome +with joy, at once gave intelligible manifestation of it. + +"Good enough!" cried he, slapping his leg, and looking from one to +another with a giggle of relief. "Bully for her! Bless you, _I_ knew +Sophie Valeyon warn't dead. Speak again! I believe you. _She'll_ tell us +what's the matter, I guess." + +Professor Valeyon rapidly and collectedly gave his directions as to what +steps were to be taken, and in a few minutes every thing was being done +that skill could do. Snow was brought in to encourage back the life it +had dismayed, and camphor and coffee awaited their turn to take part in +the resuscitation. Slow and reluctant it was, like dragging a dead +weight up from an unknown depth. More than another hour had passed away +before Sophie's eyelids quivered, and a slight tremor moved her lips. +By-and-by she opened her eyes, slowly and uncertainly, let them close +again, and once more opened them; and, after several inaudible efforts, +there came, like an echo from an immeasurable distance, one word, twice +repeated: + +"Bressant! Bressant!" + +They looked around for him, but he was not in the room, nor in the +house. Questioning among themselves, none could tell whether it were an +hour or a minute since he had departed. When life began to take fresh +hold on her he had so loved and wronged, his heart had failed him, and, +without a word, he had gone out and away. But not to escape; for on no +heart was the weight of sorrow and suffering so heavy as on his. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +MOTHER AND SON. + + +The grand ball at Abbie's was still in progress, though showing signs +of approaching dissolution, when Bressant entered the house quietly at a +side-door, and crept up to his room. He wished not to be seen or heard +by anybody; but it happened that Abbie saw him, and the sight partly +alarmed and partly relieved her. She could now account for the +mysterious disappearance of Cornelia some hours before. But why had +Bressant returned so secretly? and why were his movements all so +surreptitious? Something must be out of order, either at the Parsonage +or elsewhere. She reflected and conjectured, and of course became +momentarily more and more uneasy. Nor did a short visit to his door +relieve her apprehensions: a confused and non-descript sound had +proceeded from within, as if the young man were packing up. Whither +could he be going, she asked herself, on the very eve of his marriage? + +It is never difficult to find cause for anxiety; but it seemed to Abbie +that the misgivings she entertained were reasonable and logical. +Bressant had made up his mind to desert Sophie, because the fortune +which he had all his life considered his own turned out to belong to +another, on whose generosity he was too proud or too suspicious to +depend. He was going off, either to struggle through poverty to a +fortune of his own making, or, giving himself up to his misfortune, to +remain all his life in want and misery; or, perhaps--Abbie did not +openly admit this alternative, but still, knowing what she thought she +did of his nature and the circumstances, the suspicion had +existence--perhaps, in conjunction with a certain evil-disposed person +in New York, he contemplated fraudulently absconding. + +Now, Abbie imagined that the key whereby alone all these difficulties +could be unlocked, lay in her own hands. It was a key of which, so long +as her own interest alone had been concerned, she had refused to avail +herself; but, when the welfare of those she loved was called into +question, she made up her mind (in spite of pride--her strongest passion +next to love) to make use of it without hesitation. + +When the last guests had taken their departure, Abbie went to her room, +and looked at herself in the glass, by the light of a kerosene-lamp. She +was dressed plainly, though becomingly enough, in black silk; a lace cap +rested on her gray hair; her face was worn and wrinkled, but had a fine +expression about it, that would have recalled former beauty to the +memory of any one who had known her in early life. She was deeply +excited, without being at all nervous, the excitement being so +profoundly rooted as to be really a part of herself. + +"Why am I happy?" she asked herself. "No, not because I've buried all my +pride. Because I've found a reason to justify me in burying it: that's +why!" + +She went, for the third time that night, to Bressant's door, and this +time turned the latch and pushed it open. He was sitting at his table, +with his head on his arms. His trunk and a large iron-bound box lay +packed and strapped beneath the window, which was thrown wide open. The +rush of air between that and the door roused the young man: he got +slowly to his feet, and came forward. + +"I don't want to see you," said he, with a heavy utterance. "I warn you +to go away. You and I had better have nothing to say to each other." + +"We must; the time to speak has come!" she returned. "I've come to you, +because you could not bring yourself to rely on me. It's your own want +of faith--" + +"You'd better not go on," interrupted Bressant, with a strange smile. "I +had more faith than you imagine. But there are some mountains that faith +can't move." + +"Why do you still keep me off?" cried Abbie, in a tone which might have +made his heart bleed, except that of late it had been stabbed so often. +"Good God! am I so repulsive to you that, for the sake of being happy +and comfortable all your life, you can't bring yourself to recognize my +existence? Don't imagine I want to buy your love or toleration with this +money of mine. I want nothing in exchange--nothing! I can't help the +knowledge that I shall have made you rich, and so put happiness in your +power; but I ask no acknowledgment--no return. Take every thing and go! +Leave me here and believe that I am dead! Is that enough?" + +"A great deal too much! You'll be sorry you've said all this. If you +knew what you were talking about, you wouldn't have said a word of it." + +"Oh, you are hard to please, indeed!" exclaimed Abbie, gazing at him and +shuddering. "I pray God your heart is so cold to no one else as to me! +Poor Sophie! She would die at one such word." + +"Don't speak her name," said Bressant, in a tone so stern as to be +equivalent to a threat. + +He held his eyes down, so that the ugly gleam in them was hidden. Abbie +had no thought of fearing him as yet, and she would have her say. + +"Do you think I don't know you're going to leave her? If it's because +you don't love her, I can say no more. You are beyond any help in this +world. But if you do, let me save her, even if I must oblige you in +doing it! You know little of her love, though, if you think she can be +happier with you rich than poor. Oh! are you so cold yourself as to +believe you are acting generously to her in this? Go back to her, or she +will die!" + +The old woman took fire as she spoke, and many of the signs of age were +for the time obliterated. Some of the power and brilliancy of her youth +shone again in her eyes; her form seemed to acquire a different and +statelier contour. In the earnestness of her speech, involuntary +gestures accompanied her words; free from all exaggeration, and so truly +and gracefully fitted to her meaning as to be virtually invisible. But +Bressant was not won by it: his expression grew more ugly and repellent +with every successive sentence. + +"You fool!" said he, coming one heavy step nearer, and frowning down +upon her; "I warned you away; I told you to be silent. You've meddled +with what was no concern of yours; you've thrust yourself where you had +no right to come--" + +"No right!" she interrupted, with an intensity of indignant emphasis +that seemed adequate to smite to the ground the towering figure that +faced her. Then, clasping her hands, and in a voice of yearning, +ineffable tenderness, she added, "Oh, I have prayed for you, and wept +for you, and loved you so! For your own sake, my darling, do not use +such words to me!" Here she held out her arms, and tears ran hot down +her faded cheeks. "Am I not your mother? Are you not my son?" + +"No!" answered Bressant. + +He threw so tremendous a weight of malignant energy into the utterance +of this single word, although not raising his voice higher than his +usual tone, that the moral effect upon the woman was as if he had dealt +her a furious blow on the breast. Completely stunned at first, she stood +as if dead, except that her body, upright and rigid, vibrated slightly +from side to side, like a column about to fall. So sudden, too, had been +the shock, that her arms still remained outstretched, and the track of +her tears still glistened upon her cheeks, tears shed so utterly in vain +as to acquire a trait of ghastly absurdity. + +As sense and reflection began to dawn again, the first instinctive +defence she attempted was that of incredulity. It was to gain +breathing-space rather than from any hope in its efficacy. But +afterward, following the ability to hear and the capacity to comprehend, +the grim reality settled darkly down. Her life for the last twenty-five +years, then, had been a miserable blunder; her love, hopes, and fears +wasted, and turned to ridicule; her self-sacrifice, a wretched +self-deception, a throwing of all possibilities of happiness into the +bottomless pit, whence no return could ever come to her; every thought, +aspiration, and desire, which had visited her heart had been a +mockery--meaningless and empty. This was the reality to which she was +awakened. And, lest this should not be sufficient, here stood one before +whom she had abased and humbled herself, whose insolence she had borne +meekly and lovingly, whose feet she had set upon her neck. Here he +stood, insolent and unfeeling still; a false impostor, whom might God +refuse to pardon! + +And who and what was he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for +him? Surely--surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he? + +These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which +were now awful to behold--eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant +forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by +impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an +amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have +swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to +contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength. + +"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head. +"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault +and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive +yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can +regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!". + +In this last sentence the tone of mockery he had assumed was somewhat +overstrained; a suspicion of underlying sincerity grated through it. + +"Don't say you didn't know!" said Abbie, in a guttural voice, clasping +and wringing her hands, and turning her head from one side to another; +"don't dare to say it! No--no! you did--you did! You did know it, and +God will punish you--God will condemn you! He must--He will!" She could +not endure to believe that, having been defrauded in her love, she was +to be defrauded also in her hate and thirst for revenge. She could live +by either; but to be deprived of both was death! + +Bressant made no reply to her uncanny petition, and a silence followed. +Abbie stood wringing her hands, waving her head, and drawing her breath +sobbingly between her teeth. Was she the same woman--stately, and almost +beautiful--who had spoken so loftily and tenderly but a few minutes +before? Are human generosity and affection founded on no securer basis? +Her appearance was now revolting. Suddenly a thought struck her. + +"Ah! but she--_she_ can't escape," she broke forth, seizing upon the +idea with a grisly eagerness of exultation. "You can't get _her_ away +from me; I know her, oh! I know her, and I condemn her, I hate her--God! +how I hate her. She shall never be forgiven--never, never. You can never +cheat me out of _her_, for I know her." + +Abbie pressed both hands to her head. + +"You had better hold your tongue, old woman," Bressant said, in a low +voice, and a deadlier passion than anger looked from his eyes as he +fastened them upon her. "You're so hungry to send a soul to hell, take +care you don't find yourself there. Do you think your past life can save +you? Wait till I've told you what it has been. You began by blasting a +true man's life, trusting too easily, against all internal evidence, to +the lies that were told you about him. Next, you married the liar, not +loving him, but so that the other might hear it, and believe you had +forgotten him; so you acted a lie to him, and prostituted yourself +bodily and spiritually to gratify your pride and revenge. Not the sort +of thing that gets people to heaven, so far, is it?" + +Abbie still pressed her hands to her head, and stared before her without +speaking. + +"You were false to your marriage vows; after that, you neglected your +husband no less than he you; you never tried to make yourself lovable to +him; you were the only wronged one! you could do no wrong yourself! At +last you had a son." + +She raised her eyes, which, during the last few minutes had become +bloodshot, and fixed them fearfully upon the young man's face, as he +continued: + +"You loved him, as most females do love their young, and yet not so +generously as most. It was not as his father's child, but only as your +own, that he was dear to you; he was _your_ child, a part of yourself, +and you loved him only because you loved yourself. + +"When he was still a baby you left your husband's house, and thereby, if +justice were done, forfeited the recognition of good women, and pure +society; but you took great credit to yourself because you left your son +and your money behind you. Was it nothing in the balance, then, the +scandal, worse than any poverty, which the recovery of your property +would have caused? Nothing but self-sacrifice, to leave a sickly child +to all the advantages that wealth could give it? Well, a month +afterward, in spite of wealth, your son died." + +At this announcement, Abbie's convulsive strength, which had thus far +served to keep her erect and motionless, exhaled itself in a long groan, +and left her placid and nerveless. Seeing her about to fall, Bressant +put forth his hands and grasped her arms below the shoulder, holding her +thus while he went on. Her eyes were closed and her head fell forward on +her bosom; but, so blinded was the young man by the remorseless passion +which had gradually been working up within him, he failed to perceive +that the old woman's ears were no longer sensible to his voice, nor her +heart sensitive to his words. + +"He died, and I was younger than he, but stronger, and more like my +father. I was put in his place, and was called by his name. I grew up +proud of what I thought my aristocratic birth! I resolved to become the +most famous of mankind, and I found an angel and was going to marry her. +But the evil began to come with the good: it began long ago, and in many +ways, and I tried to overcome it, or provide against it, one way or +another. You benevolent people had led me into a battle-field, unarmed, +and then left me to fight my way through; and I should have done it, +too, but at the last I had myself to fight against, and then _I_ gave +in. Why, _I_ had been dead and buried more than twenty years--why don't +you laugh at that?--and had been imposed upon all that time by this +miserable nameless outcast, myself! whose father's name was Adultery and +his mother's Sin. That was a parentage to be proud of, wasn't it? And +yet, I swear before God, I'm better contented it should be so, than to +be the son of an honest marriage, with such a woman as you for my +mother." + +As he loosened the hold of one hand, to emphasize this oath, the +senseless body, which he had been upholding, swung round, and swayed, +toward the floor. He dropped the arm which remained in his grasp, and +the red flush on his cheek and forehead died away into pallor, as he +looked down at the dark heap of clothes lying at his feet. Finally he +stooped down, and lifted her on to the sofa. + +"She's not dead," muttered he, after scrutinizing the woman's face for a +moment; "she has her punishment, though, like the rest of us." + +He wrote an address on a couple of pieces of paper which he found in the +drawer of the table, and fastened them to the box and trunk with some +mucilage. Then he took his fur cap, and having banged on the fat Irish +servant-girl's door, and told her that her mistress was lying insensible +in his study, he left the house without delay. It wanted still an hour +to the time for the earliest morning train to New York, and, as the +young man did not care to subject himself to questions and remarks from +the officials at the village depot, he determined to walk down the +track, a distance of between four and five miles, to the station below. +Off he started accordingly, and, arriving there in ample time, was able +to eat a good breakfast of cold meat, hard-boiled eggs, and +crackers--all the solid contents of the refreshment-room--before his +train got in. He bought his ticket, stepped on board, flung himself into +a seat, and left all behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +WHERE TWO ROADS MEET. + + +The velvet-cushioned seat on which he sat felt very comfortable, and +the great speed at which he was being carried along was agreeable to +him. He had been busily occupied, with little rest of any kind, and +scarcely any sleep, for nearly three days; and his mind had been all the +time engrossed by the most harrowing thoughts and experiences. It was +all over now; nothing could ever again give him apprehension or anxiety; +the past was dead and never could live again; the future was arranged, +and it was simple enough: he, and the woman who had given him birth, +would sail together for Europe on Monday morning, at twelve o'clock. He +would have abundant wealth--all the property had been converted into +ready money, and would be taken with them--and he might live as +luxuriously, as sensually, as much like a pampered animal as he pleased, +or as he could. He would forget that he had a mind, or a heart, or a +soul; they had none of them served him in good stead; but he had some +reliance on his body. There were few that could compare with it in the +world, and he felt convinced that he should be able to derive a great +deal of enjoyment out of it before the time for its death and decay came +round. At all events, he was resolved that no form of indulgence to his +bodily appetites should go unproved; and when one grew stale he would +try another. With such enormous vitality and capacity to be and to +appreciate being voluptuous, he could hardly fail to avenge himself for +the hardships he had undergone thus far. + +So he leaned back on the crimson velvet-cushion of his seat, and felt +very comfortable and composed, thinking of nothing in particular. He +became pleasantly interested, as the daylight began to make things +visible without, in trying to count the number of wires on the +telegraph-poles. It would have been easy enough if they had only kept +along at an invariable level; but they were always rising--rising--then +jumping through the pole with a snap!--then ducking suddenly--sinking, +crossing one another--sometimes scudding along close to the ground, +then flying up beyond the range of the window--anon scooting beneath +a dark arch--now indistinguishable against a pine-wood--then +rising--rising--jumping--ducking--sinking--as before. Though exerting +all his faculties of observation, it was impossible to be quite certain +how many wires there were. + +He was nearly alone in the car, and would probably continue to be for an +hour or so at least. He reversed the seat in front of him, and put up +his feet, leaving the telegraph-wires to scud and dodge unnoticed. He +fixed his eyes upon the sweltering stove in the farther corner of the +car. There was a roaring fire within, as he could tell by the vivid red +that glowed through the draught-holes beneath the door, and showed here +and there along the cracks. The sides of the car against which the stove +stood was protected with zinc; a number of short sticks of wood were +piled beside it, ready to replenish the fire, and some of them were +already smoking a little, as if in anticipation. Presently the brakeman +came in, with a flurry of cold air, his neck and head rolled up in a +dirty-brown knit woolen tippet, and clumsy gloves on his hands. He took +the poker, and opened the stove-door with it, peeped into the red-hot +interior a moment, grasped a solid chunk of wood from the pile, and +popped it in cleverly; then he stood for a moment, patting the stove +with his gloved hands, to warm them, till, in response to the whistle, +he dashed out, slamming the doors as only car-doors can be made to slam, +and Bressant could dimly distinguish him, through the frosted window, +working away at the brake. + +They drew up, with much squeaking and grating, at a small, +snuff-colored, clap-boarded depot, where a boy, about sixteen, with a +big green carpet-bag, kissed an elderly lady in a black hood, who was +evidently his mother, and jumped aboard with his bag, in a great hurry, +lest she should behold the tears in his eyes. He entered the car in +which Bressant sat, and established himself and his bag on the seat +immediately in front of that upon which the former's feet were resting. + +The snuff-colored station and the woman in the black hood slipped away, +and were seen no more. The boy, after scratching a peep-hole through the +frost-work on his window, and taking a last survey through it of the +snow-covered fields he was leaving, produced a large blue-spotted +handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers, and retired with it into +the privacy of his own feelings. + +He was a rather delicate-looking boy, with large gray eyes and soft +brown hair, and was evidently not much in the habit of traveling. +Perhaps this was the first time he had ever left home, thought Bressant, +in the idleness of his inactive mind. His mother was a widow; her dark +dress and black hood, and pale, over-worked face looked like it. +Besides, if the boy had had a father, of course he would have been down +to see him off. Probably there were sisters, too; the boy looked somehow +as if he had been brought up with sisters; but they would not have +followed him down to the station; they kissed him good-by at the +house-door, leaving it to his mother to see the very last of him. For be +had resolved to go forth into the world and make his fortune, not to +encumber his poor mother with his support any longer. He was going, +probably, to New York, to be a clerk or an errand-boy in some dry-goods +store, or banking-house, or insurance-office. Once a week--oftener, +perhaps--he would write home to his mother, sending his love to her and +to the girls, telling them how much he wanted to see them all again, but +that he was doing pretty well, and was working, and going to work, very +hard. He would be rich some day, and they should all come to New York +then and live in his house on Fifth Avenue! + +Bressant, comfortably extended on his two seats, with his long future of +bodily case and indulgence opening before him--his freedom from all ties +to bind him to any spot, or necessities to compel him to any +labor--Bressant found that the thought of this innocent boy, going forth +into the world, with his green carpet-bag, his loving heart, his +assurance of being loved, his ambition to establish his mother and +sisters on Fifth Avenue, was becoming quite annoying to his mental +serenity. He would think of him no more, therefore, and, to aid himself +in this resolve, he closed his eyes, so as to avoid seeing him. Being +really somewhat weary after his manifold exertions and continued +sleeplessness, his eyes closed very naturally. + +But the boy was not to be so easily got rid of. He almost immediately +turned round in his seat, and directed a steadfast gaze out of his gray +eyes at Bressant's reclining figure. Presently, he pronounced, in a low +voice, yet which was distinctly audible to the deaf man's ears, two +words, the effect of which was to make the other start up in his seat, +and stare about him in amazement and alarm. + +The boy met his glance with great calmness and gentleness, and held out +his hand as if to grasp Bressant's. + +"Was it you?" exclaimed the latter, bewildered. "How did you know that +name, and who are you?" As he spoke, he mechanically took the extended +hand in his own. + +"Why, don't you know me?" answered the boy, smiling, and, at the same +time, drawing him, by a slight but decided traction, to sit down by him. +"Me--your best friend?" + +Something in the voice, something in the manner, and in the expression +of the eyes, but, most of all, the smile, seemed strangely familiar to +Bressant. The touch of the hand, too, he thought be recognized--it +soothed and yet controlled him. Still, he was unable to recall exactly +who the boy was, or where he had seen him before. + +"I've had so much to think of lately," murmured he, partly to himself, +partly by way of excusing his forgetfulness, passing his hand over his +forehead. + +"Yes, indeed!" returned the latter, in a tone of tender sympathy, that +vibrated gratefully along Bressant's nerves. "But we know each other, +and we are friends--that is enough." + +"How strange that I should meet you here, and at such a time!" said +Bressant, musingly. And he wondered at himself for feeling glad, instead +of sorry, that the encounter should have taken place. But the boy looked +up in surprise. + +"Strange? No! I'm sure it's the most natural thing in the world. How +could it have happened otherwise? Should I have been your friend if I +had failed you now?" + +"But do you know every thing?" Bressant demanded--less, however, because +he doubted that it should be so than as wishing to receive full +assurance thereof. "Do you know all that has happened during these last +six months, and yet are willing to be with me and speak to me?" + +"It has been a terrible time, to be sure," said the boy, sadly; "you +should have kept your promise and come to me at your first trouble. It +might have saved you from a great deal. And yet I can see how, in the +end, it may all be for the best." + +Bressant shook his head dejectedly. "I've lost what I never can regain!" +said he, "and there are three stains--falsehood, dishonor, and +treachery--that never can be washed out." + +"Don't say that!" exclaimed the boy, earnestly and hopefully. "God +teaches us, you know, not to be in despair, because without hope--hope +of becoming better--we can't be really repentant." + +"I'm not repentant, certainly--I have no hope," rejoined Bressant. But, +even as he spoke the words, he was conscious of that within him which +contradicted them. Either the influence of the boy's gentle and trustful +spirit, or a new opening of his own inward eyes, had borne in upon him a +vision of hitherto unconsidered possibilities. + +The boy seemed to read his thoughts. "You do not believe all you say," +observed he. "Remember, it was because you repented of your dishonest +purposes toward Abbie, and felt that you had wronged your better self +with Cornelia, that you first resolved to give up Sophie, as being no +longer worthy of her, and that proved that your love for her at least +was noble and unselfish." + +"But afterward--afterward I became worse than ever!" exclaimed Bressant, +who would not dare to entertain a hope until the full depth of his sin +had been brought forward for the pure and clear-sighted eyes of his +companion to look upon and judge. "When I found out my shameful +secret--when I learned what a thing I was, even with no sin of my own to +drag me down--I didn't care what crime I committed! A kind of evil +intelligence seemed to come to me. I saw that Cornelia loved me, and +that I had her in my power, so I went back to get her, to take her with +me to Europe. There was no repentance in that!" + +"It would have been a terrible sin!" said the boy, with a slight +shudder. "But God prevented you from committing it." + +"But I'm a thief still, and a coward, for I sneaked away in the night, +fearing to meet Sophie's eyes, and afraid to tell the professor what I +was and what I had done. I left all the burden of my sins to be borne by +women and an infirm old man, and I am going, with a stolen fortune, to +forget I ever had a heart or a soul." + +"Are you going, and do you think you can forget?" asked the boy, with a +smile. + +"Don't you give me up yet?" returned Bressant, trembling. "What is left +for me?" + +"Why, every thing is left for you!" exclaimed the boy, his smile +brightening in his eyes. "You seem to forget that you haven't gone off +with any stolen money yet! You must begin at the next station, and +devote your whole life--no less will answer--to redeeming yourself. Only +be sure not to delay, and not to hesitate." + +Bressant looked at his companion, and thought there was something divine +and unearthly almost in his manner, and especially in the light that +came from his gray eyes. + +"As for the stolen money," the boy continued, "all you have to do about +that is, to let it alone; it is safe, and will be cared for. But you +must go straight to the Parsonage. Your marriage-day is Sunday; be sure +you are there by noon. It may be you will not find Sophie there; but she +will leave a gift for you, at any rate, and you must be in time to claim +it." + +"But how can I ask Sophie's forgiveness, and the professor, and +Cornelia?" + +"Trust wholly in Sophie," returned the other, with an accent of loving +reproof, "never doubt her love and forgiveness. You must make your peace +with the professor as best you can; but perhaps he has found that to +forgive in himself which will enable him to be more charitable to you. +As for Cornelia, she and you must recompense each other for the evil you +have mutually wrought upon each other." + +"How recompense each other?" questioned Bressant, in surprise; "it was +not a high nor a true love that we felt for each other; it was a love of +the passions and senses." + +"Therefore let it be the work of your lives--a work of penitence and +punishment--to elevate and refine your love, which has been degraded, +until it become worthy of the name of love in its highest sense. You +have lowered each other, and now each must help to raise the other up. +The work can be delegated to no one else." + +"But Sophie," murmured Bressant, pressing his hand over his eyes. + +"Sophie is lost to you," responded his companion, with a tremulous sigh. +"Perhaps if you had kept yourself pure and true through all temptations, +she might have been yours. But you failed, and every failure must bring +its loss. The air of such a love as that is too fine for you to breathe +now; you could not be happy nor at ease; but do not grieve for her--only +mourn for your own deterioration, and strive faithfully, and with +constant effort, to make it good. Sophie--she will be happier, and +better cared for, than, as your wife, she could ever have been." + +"But I shall go back to poverty and disgrace, and perhaps to hatred!" + +"The evil you have done will be a clog upon you; but its very weight +will assure you that your face is turned toward heaven. Life will never +be to you what you dreamed of making it six months ago. You will find it +hard and practical, weary and monotonous; but once in a while, perhaps, +you will catch a breath of air from heaven itself, and will be +refreshed, or a ray of its light will glimmer on your path, and show you +where to tread. The end may be a long way off, but you cannot say you +have no chance of reaching it." + +"Oh, if I only might!" sighed he; "but I've been nothing but a curse, so +far, to every one I've known!" + +"Not so, either," returned his companion, with a smile so celestial that +Bressant knew at last it could be no other than the spirit of Sophie +herself that had been speaking to him. "You have shaken Professor +Valeyon's confidence in his wisdom and judgment, and the value of his +experience; you have made him realize that the more God has to do with +education the better; you have broken down Cornelia's self-complacency, +and shown her that a beautiful body cannot be safe or happy without a +soul to take care of it. Abbie has learned from you that love, and +generosity, and self-sacrifice, may all be worthless if they be founded +only upon individual grounds, to the exclusion of humanity; and Sophie +has been taught, by the love she has felt for you, to be humble and +charitable, and to see how easily self-interest and pride may be made to +look like zeal for others, and benevolence." + +And then Bressant seemed to be conscious that Sophie was bidding him +farewell, but he could not see her nor touch her; he was shaken with +grief, and yet was filled with a strange kind of happiness, and a +feeling of resolute power. Gradually the influence of her presence faded +away, and he seemed alone. + +Some one shook him by the shoulder. He looked up and saw the conductor; +in the background a lady and gentleman waiting to sit down. The car was +full of people. + +"Come, sir," said the conductor, "you're a pretty big man, but you +didn't pay for more than one seat, I reckon. You've been sleeping-here +for more than a hundred miles; if you want to sleep any more I expect +you'd better get out and go to an hotel." + +Bressant removed his feet from the extra seat, and, the conductor having +reversed it, the lady and gentleman took their places. As for the boy +with the green bag and the blue-spotted handkerchief, he was nowhere to +be seen; he must have left the train at a previous station. + +The train had stopped, and Bressant, glancing out of the window, saw +that they were at some large railway-junction. + +"How far are we from New York?" he asked of the conductor, with his hand +to his ear to catch the reply. + +"Be there in two hours," shouted back that gentleman, in reply. + +"When does the next train go through here in the opposite direction?" + +"We're just awaiting for one to come along and give us the track--and +there she is now," returned the conductor, as he took his departure. + +The whistle screamed malevolently, and, with a jerk and a rattle, the +car began to move off. Bressant rose suddenly from his seat, walked +quickly along the aisle to the door, passed through to the platform, +grasped the iron balustrade with one hand, and swung himself lightly to +the ground. The whistle screamed again like a disappointed fiend. + +"Guess that young man was up late last night," remarked the conductor to +the brakeman; "a powerful sound sleep he was in, anyhow." + +"Off on a spree to New York, most like," responded the brakeman, +tightening his dirty-brown tippet around his neck, "and thought better +of it at the last minute." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +TILL THE ELEVENTH HOUR. + + +Her fruitless call for Bressant seemed quite to exhaust Sophie. For a +long time afterward she hardly opened her mouth, except to swallow some +hot black coffee. The professor sat, for the most part, with his finger +on her pulse, his eyes looking more hollow and his forehead more deeply +lined than ever before, but with no other signs of anxiety or suffering. +Cornelia came in and out--a restless spirit. She awaited Sophie's +recovery with no less of dread than of hope. Her life hung, as it were, +upon her sister's. The moment in which Sophie recovered her faculties +enough to think and speak would be the last that Cornelia could maintain +her mask of honor and respectability, for Cornelia knew that Sophie was +in possession of her secret; she had been up in her room, and the open +window had told the story. + +It was a time of awful suspense. Cornelia wished there had been somebody +there to talk with; even Bill Reynolds would have been welcome now. He, +however, had departed long ago, having bethought himself that his horse +was catching its death o' cold, standing out there with no rug on. She +was entirely alone; she hardly dared to think, for fear something guilty +should be generated in her mind; and, though every moment was pain, +without stop or mitigation, every moment was inestimably precious, too; +it was so much between her and revelation. She almost counted the +seconds as they passed, yet rated them for dragging on so wearily. +Every tick of the little ormolu clock marked away a large part of her +life, and yet was wearisome to so much of it as remained. Sometimes she +debated whether she could not anticipate the end by speaking out at +once, of her own free-will; but no, short as her time was, she could not +afford to lose the smallest fraction of it--no, she could not. + +Bethinking herself that her father would be lost to her after the +revelation had taken place, Cornelia felt a consuming desire to enjoy +his love to the fullest possible extent during the interval. She wanted +him to call her his dear daughter--to hold her hand--to pat her +check--to kiss her forehead with his rough, bristly lips--to tell her, +in his gruff, kind voice, that she was a solace and a resource to him. +The thousand various little ways in which he had testified his +deep-lying affection--she had not noticed them or thought much of them, +so long as she felt secure of always commanding them--with what +different eyes she looked back upon them now. Oh! if they might all be +lavished upon her during these last few remaining hours or minutes. +Should she not go and sit down at his knee, and ask him to pet her and +caress her? + +No; she would not steal the love for which her soul thirsted, even +though he whom she robbed should not feel the loss. She had stripped him +of much that would doubtless seem to him of far more worth and +importance; but, when it came to taking, under false pretenses, a thing +so sacred as her father's love, Cornelia drew back, and, spite of her +great need, had the grace to make the sacrifice. Let it not be +underrated: a woman who sees honor, reputation, and happiness slipping +away from her, will struggle hardest of all for the little remaining +scrap of love, and only feel wholly forlorn after that, too, has +vanished away. + +At length, about daybreak or a little after, Sophie spoke, low, but very +distinctly: + +"I'm going to sleep; don't wake me or disturb me;" and almost +immediately sank into a profound slumber--so very profound, indeed, that +it rather bore likeness to a trance. Yet, her pulse still beat +regularly, though faintly, and at long intervals, and her breath went +and came, though with a motion almost imperceptible to the eye. + +"Is it a good sign? Will she get well now?" asked Cornelia, as she and +her father stood looking down at her. + +"She'll never get well, my dear," said Professor Valeyon, very quietly. +"Her mind and body both have had too great a shock--far too great. More +has happened than we know of yet, I suspect. But we shall hear, we shall +hear. Yes, sleep is good for her: it'll make her comfortable. Her nerves +will be the quieter." + +"O papa! papa! is our little Sophie going to die?" faltered Cornelia; +and then she broke down completely. She had not fully grasped the idea +until that moment; but the very tone in which her father spoke had the +declaration of death in it. It was not his usual deep, gruff, forcible +voice, shutting off abruptly at the end of his sentences, and beginning +them as sharply. It had lost body and color, was thin, subdued, and +monotonous. Professor Valeyon had changed from a lusty winter into a +broken, infirm, and marrowless thaw. + +He stood and watched her weep for a long while, bending his eyes upon +her from beneath their heavy, impending brows. Heavy and impending they +were still, but the vitality--the sort of warm-hearted fierceness--of +his look was gone--gone! A young and bitter grief, like Cornelia's, +coming at a time of life when the feelings are so tender and their +manifestation of pain so poignant--is terrible enough to see, God knows! +but the dry-eyed anguish of the old, of those who no longer possess the +latent, indefinite, all-powerful encouragement of the future to support +them--who can breathe only the lifeless, cheerless air of the +past--grief with them does not convulse: it saps, and chills, and +crumbles away, without noise or any kind of demonstration. The sight +does not terrify or harrow us, but it makes us sick at heart and tinges +our thoughts with a gloomy stain, which rather sinks out of sight than +is worn away. + +"Will you stay and watch with her, my dear?" said the old man, at last. +"She'll sleep some hours, I think. I'll take a little sleep myself. Call +me when she wakes." + +So Cornelia was left alone to watch her sleeping and dying sister. All +the morning she sat by the bed, almost as motionless as Sophie herself. +Her mind was like a surf-wave that breaks upon the shore, slips back, +regathers itself, and undulates on, to break again. Begin where she +would, she always ended on that bed, with its well-known face, set +around with soft dark hair, always in the same position upon the pillow, +which yielded beneath it in always the same creases and curves. +By-and-by, wherever she turned, still she saw that face, with the pillow +rising around it; and when she shut her eyes, there it was, growing, in +the blackness, clearer the more she tried to avert her mind. + +It seemed to Cornelia--for time enters involuntarily into our thoughts +upon all subjects--that the present order of things must have existed +for a far longer period than a single night. How could the events of a +few hours wear such deep and uneffaceable channels in human lives? But +our souls have a chronology of their own, compared with the vividness +and instantaneous workings of which, our bodies bear but a dull and +lagging part. Sorrow and joy, which act upon the soul immediately, must +labor long ere they can write themselves legibly and permanently upon +our faces. + +Cornelia fell to wondering, too--as most people under the pressure of +grief are prone to do--whether there were any sympathy or any connection +between the world and the human beings who live upon it. Her eyes +wandered hither and thither about the room, and found it almost +startling in its unaltered naturalness. There was the same view of +trees, road, and field, out of the window; and the same snow which had +fallen before the tragedy, lay there now. Even in Sophie's face there +was no adequate transformation. Indeed, being somewhat reddened and +swollen by the reaction from freezing, a stranger might have supposed +that she was tolerably stout and glowing with vitality. And Cornelia +looked at her own hands, as they lay in her lap: they were as round and +shapely as ever; and there, upon the smooth back of one, below the +forefinger, was a white scar, where she had cut herself when a little +girl. Moreover--Cornelia started as her eyes rested upon it, and the +blood rose painfully to her face--there was a dark, discolored bruise, +encircling one wrist: Bressant's last gift--an ominous betrothal ring! + +Thus several hours passed away, until, at length, Cornelia raised her +eyes suddenly, and encountered those of Sophie, fixed upon her. + +What a look was that! At all times there was more to be seen in Sophie's +eyes than in most women's; but now they were fathomless, and yet never +more clear and simple. Cornelia read in them all and more than legions +of words could have told her. There were visible the complete grasp and +appreciation of Cornelia's and Bressant's crime; the realization of her +own position between them; pity and sympathy for the sinners, too, were +there; and love, not sisterly, nor quite human, for Sophie had already +begun to put on immortality--but such a love as an angel might have +felt, knowing the temptation and the punishment. Before that look +Cornelia felt her own bitterness and anguish fade away, as a candle is +obliterated by the sun. She saw in Sophie so much higher a capacity for +feeling, so much profounder and more sublime an emotion, that she was +ashamed of her own beside it. + +There was at once a comprehensiveness and a particularity in Sophie's +gaze which, while humbling and abasing Cornelia, brought a comforting +feeling that full justice, upon all points, had been done her in +Sophie's mind. There was no lack of charity for her trials and +temptations, no vindictiveness. Cornelia felt no impulse to plead her +cause, because aware that all she could say would be anticipated in her +sister's forgiveness. Nay, she almost wished there had been some +bitterness and anger against which to contend. Perhaps it may be so with +our souls in their judgment-day; God's mercy may outstrip the poor +conjectures we have formed about it. He may see palliation for our sins, +which we ourselves had not taken into account. + +After a few moments, Sophie beckoned Cornelia to come near, and, as the +latter stood beside the bed, took her by the hand and smiled. + +"I've been all this time with Bressant," were her first words, spoken +faintly, but with a quiet and serene assurance. + +Cornelia made no answer; indeed, she could not speak. Strange and +incomprehensible as Sophie's assertion was, she did not think of +doubting but that in some way it must be true. Sophie continued: + +"Before I went to sleep, I prayed God to send my spirit to him; and we +have been together. Neelie, he is coming back!" + +"Coming back! Sophie, coming back! For what?" + +"Don't look so frightened, my darling. He will tell you why when he gets +here. That will be to-morrow at noon." + +"O Sophie! Sophie! the day and hour of your marriage!" + +Cornelia sank upon her knees, and hid her face upon the edge of the bed. +But Sophie let her hand wander over her head, with a soothing motion. + +"No, dear; that's all over, Neelie dear, you know. Not the day and hour +of my marriage any more. Neelie, I want to ask you something." + +Cornelia lifted her head from the bedside; then, divining from Sophie's +face, ere it was spoken, what her question was to be, faintness and +terror seized upon her, and she clasped her hands over her eyes. The +unexpectedness of Sophie's first awakening, and her subsequent strange +speech concerning Bressant, had driven from Cornelia's head the matter +which had monopolized her thoughts and fears before; and it now recurred +to her with an effect almost as overwhelming as if the idea had been a +new one. + +"I couldn't do it," said she, huskily; "it seemed worse than killing +myself. I believe it would have killed me to have stood before him, with +his eyes upon my face, and have told him--told him--" + +"Yes, dear, yes; it must not be you, Neelie. How is he? Does he seem +well and cheerful?" + +"I don't know--I've hardly dared to look at him, or speak to him. He's +been lying down, I believe, since you went to sleep." + +"Ask him to come to me," Sophie said, after a pause. "I will speak to +him; I'll tell him; it will be best that I should do it; and you will +trust me?" + +"O Sophie!" was all that Cornelia could say; but it expressed at least +the fullness of her heart. What must be the love and tenderness that +could undertake such a task as this! How great the trial for a nature +delicate and shrinking, like Sophie's, to bear witness before their own +father of her sister's sin against herself! But Sophie was as brave as +she was feminine and delicate. + +Cornelia's gratitude, however, was mingled still with a despairing +agony, and her life seemed to be escaping from her. If this cup might +but pass! + +"He will not be to me as you are, Sophie. He will never look at me +again." + +"Do not fear," replied Sophie, with her faint but incomparable smile. +"If I can forgive you, surely he must. Go and call him, and then stay in +your room till he comes to you." + +But Cornelia, as she left the room upon her heavy errand, shook her +head, and drew a shivering breath. She knew her father would look upon +the matter more from the world's point of view than Sophie did; and it +was a curious example of the strength of the material element in +Cornelia, that she more feared to meet her father's eye, whom she felt +would understand that aspect of her disgrace, than Sophie's, who +probably had a more acute and certainly a more exclusive perception of +her spiritual accountability. + +As she was beginning to mount the stairs, she met her father already on +his way down. He noticed the wretchedness depicted on her face, and, +supposing it to be all on Sophie's account, did what he could to comfort +her. + +"Don't despair, my child," quoth the old man, laying his hands on her +shoulders. "Nothing is so hopeless that we mayn't trust in God to better +it." + +The words seemed to apply so felicitously that Cornelia tried to think +it a good omen sent from heaven. Then he bent over and kissed her +forehead--perhaps before she was aware, perhaps not; but she took it, +praying that it might prove a blessing to her hereafter, even if it were +the last she were destined to receive. She passed on into her own room +without speaking, and sat down there to wait. + +To wait! and for what, and how long? till her father came to her? But +suppose he were not to come? She would stay there, perhaps, an +hour--that would be long enough--yes, too long; but still let it be an +hour; and then, he not coming, what should she do? Go to him? No, she +would never dare, never presume to do that. What then? steal +down-stairs, a guilty, hateful thing, softly open the door which would +never open to her again, and run away through the snow? The world would +be before her, but snow and ice would but faintly symbolize its +coldness. Was it likely that heaven itself would yield her entrance +after her father's door had closed upon her? + +But would not Sophie prevail, and turn his heart to forgiveness? Oh! +but why was it not probable, and more than probable, that the argument +would result the other way?--that her father, by a clear and stern +representation of the real heinousness of her offense, would convince +Sophie that Cornelia was entitled to nothing but condemnation? +There would be nothing to urge against the justice of such a +sentence--nothing. + +Perhaps Sophie's courage might fail her, or her strength give way, +leaving the ugly story but half told, and then her father would come to +her to learn the rest. What should she do then? How much more terrible +to be obliged to tell him then, after having made up her mind that her +sister was to take the burden off her shoulders, than it would have been +before any such resource had presented itself! How much more awful to +meet her father when aroused by suspicion and anger, and perhaps +loathing, than to begin her confession while his face was as she had +always seen it, when turned toward her--loving and tender! + +She could not sit still, at last, but rose up from her chair to walk the +room--not from the old, restless energy, which needed physical exercise +to keep it within bounds, for Cornelia was now white and faint, from +exhaustion of mind and body, but from the tumult of pervading fear and +delusive hope--the attention strained to catch some sound from below, +and the dread lest it should never come. As the suspense grew more +painful, the rapidity of her walk increased. + +She expected now, every moment, to catch herself shrieking aloud, or +performing some mad action or other. How long had she been up there +already? Was it an hour yet? It must be an hour. Oh! it was more. Was he +never coming, then?--never? O God! was there no forgiveness? Cornelia's +walk had gone on quickening until it was almost a run. She was circling +round and round the room, like a wild animal--was growing dizzy and +exhausted, but was afraid to stop: better her body should give way than +her mind--and, all the time, her ears were alert for the slightest +sound. + +She halted, wild-eyed and unsteady on her feet, her hand trembling at +her lips. A step in the passage below, ascending the stairs slowly and +heavily. Oh! did it come in mercy? She tried to draw a meaning from the +sound--then dared not trust her inference. The steps had gained the +landing now--were advancing along the entry toward her door. Did they +bear a load of sorrow only, or of hate and condemnation likewise? + +They paused at her threshold--then there was a knock, thrice +repeated--not loud, nor rapid, nor regular, nor precise--rather as one +heart might knock for admittance to another. Cornelia tried to say "Come +in," or to open the door, but could neither speak nor move. Iron bands +seemed to be clasped around all her faculties of motion. Would he go +away and leave her? + +The door opened, turning slowly and hesitatingly on its hinges, until it +disclosed her father's venerable figure. His limbs seemed weak; his +shoulders drooped; but Cornelia looked only at his face. His eyes were +deep and compassionate. He held out his arms, which shook slightly but +continually: "Come, my daughter," said he. + +She was his daughter still! She cried out, and, walking hurriedly to +him, laid herself close against him, and he hugged her closer yet--poor, +miserable, erring creature though she was. + +So the three were reunited--and not superficially, but more intimately +and indissolubly than ever before. They would not be apart, but remained +together in Bressant's room--Sophie on the bed, with an expression of +divine contentment on her face, Cornelia and the professor sitting near. + +"Papa," said Sophie, as the afternoon came on, "I want to make my will." + +Cornelia caught her breath sharply, and, turning away her face, covered +her eyes with her hand. Professor Valeyon's gray eyebrows gathered for a +moment--then he steadied himself, and said, "Well, my dear." + +It was not a very intricate matter. The various little bequests were +soon made and noted down as she requested. After all was disposed of, +there was a little pause. + +"Neelie, dear," then said Sophie, turning her eyes full upon her, "I +bequeath my love to you." + +Cornelia perceived the hidden significance in the words, and blushed so +deep and warm that the tears were dried upon her cheeks. Sophie went on, +before she could make any reply: + +"And I have something left for you, too, papa, though I know no one +needs it less than you. But you may be called on for a great deal, so I +bequeath you my charity. I haven't had it so very long myself." + +The professor bowed his head, and, the will being complete, he took off +his spectacles, and wiped them with his handkerchief. + +"I was telling Neelie this morning, papa," resumed Sophie, after a +while, "that I had been--that I'd had a dream that I was with Bressant; +and I feel sure--though I suppose you'll think it nothing but a sick +fancy of mine--that he will be here to-morrow noon." + +The professor looked at Sophie, startled and anxious; but her appearance +was so composed, straight-forward, and full of faith, he could not think +her wandering. + +"Do you know where he has been, my dear? or where he is now?" asked he, +gently. + +"I cannot tell that. I knew and understood a great deal in my dream that +I cannot remember now," she answered. "I only know that he will be here +to-morrow, and, papa, and you, Neelie, whether you believe as I do or +not, I want you to get ready to receive him. Let it be in this dear old +room--I lying here as I am now, and you sitting so beside me. We'll wait +for him to-morrow morning until twelve o'clock. If I should die before +then, let my body stay here until noon, for I want him to see my face +when he comes, so that he'll always remember how happy I looked. But if, +after that little clock on the mantel-piece strikes twelve, still he +isn't here, then you may do with me as you will. I shall not know nor +mind." + +After this little speech, Sophie became very silent, being, in truth, +too weak and worn out to speak or move, save at long, and ever longer, +intervals. All that night, Professor Valeyon carried an aching and +mistrustful heart; but Cornelia had a red spot in either cheek, never +fading nor shifting. Sophie appeared to wander several times, murmuring +something about darkness, and snow, and deadly weariness. A snow-storm +had set in toward evening, and lasted until daybreak, a circumstance +which seemed to cause Sophie considerable anxiety. + +By ten o'clock all the preparations were made according to Sophie's +wish, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Cornelia sat brooding +with folded arms, and the feverish spots on her cheeks. Occasionally she +restlessly varied her position, seldom allowing her eyes to stray around +the room, however, save that once in a while they sought Sophie's +colorless, ethereal face, as a thirsty soul the water. The professor +stood much at the window, and once or twice he imagined he caught a +glimpse, somewhere down the road, of a darkly-clad woman's figure; but +she never came nearer, and he decided it must be a hallucination of his +fading eyes. + +Eleven o'clock struck from the little ormolu timepiece. A few moments +afterward Sophie stirred slightly as she lay, and the professor and +Cornelia listened breathlessly for what she would say. + +She lifted her heavy lids, and turned her eyes, a little dimmer now than +heretofore, but steady and confident, first on her father, then on her +sister. + +"Till noon--remember!" said she. + +Nothing more was heard, after that, but the hasty ticking of the little +ormolu clock, as its hands traveled steadily around the circle. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE HOUR AND THE MAN. + + +Bressant jumped on to the platform of the newly-arrived train. The cars +were pretty full; but, coming at last to a vacant seat by the side of a +clean-shaven gentleman with a straight, hard mouth, and a glossy-brown +wig, curling smoothly inward all around the edge, he dropped into it +without ceremony. + +The train left the depot and hurried away over the road which Bressant +had just traversed in the opposite direction. He sat with his arms +folded, appearing to take no notice of any thing, and his neighbor with +the wig read the latest edition of a New-York paper with stern +attention, occasionally altering the position of his stove-pipe hat on +his head. By-and-by, the conductor, a small, precise man, with a +dark-blue coat, cap to match, a neatly-trimmed sandy beard, shaved upper +lip, and an utterance as distinct and clippy as the holes his steel +punch made in the tickets, came along upon his rounds. + +Bressant put his hands into his pockets, and discovered, with some +consternation, that he had but a comparatively small amount of money +left; his newly-accepted poverty was certainly losing no time in making +itself felt. However, such as it was, he handed it to the conductor, and +inquired how near it would take him to his proposed destination. + +"Eighty-one miles, rail," responded the official, as he took and clipped +the ticket of the gentleman with the newspaper; "comes shorter by road, +seventy-four to seventy-five," and he proceeded down the aisle, snapping +up tickets on one side or the other, as a hen does grains of corn. + +Bressant covered his eyes with his hand, and amused himself by +performing a little sum in mental arithmetic. The amount of money he had +given the conductor represented a distance which it would take a certain +length of time--say four hours--to traverse. It was now four o'clock in +the afternoon, and consequently would be eight before that distance was +accomplished. From eight o'clock Saturday night, till twelve o'clock +Sunday noon, was sixteen hours, and in sixteen hours he must travel, on +foot, and through the snow, seventy-five miles of unknown roads. + +"Four and a half miles an hour, and nothing to eat since breakfast," +said Bressant to himself. He took his hand from his eyes, and passed it +down his face to his beard, which he twisted and turned unmercifully. +"It's lucky it isn't any more," remarked he, philosophically. + +In the course of half an hour or so, the straight-mouthed gentleman, +having finished the last column of his paper, folded it up into the +smallest possible compass, and handed it politely to Bressant. The +latter accepted it abstractedly, and, opening one fold, read the first +paragraph which presented itself, his interest increasing as he +proceeded. It was in the column of latest local news, and, after +bewailing, in choice language, the frightful prevalence, even among the +highest aristocracy, of opium-eating and kindred indulgences, it went on +to particularize the sad case of an esteemed lady, of great wealth and +high connections, widow of a scion of one of our oldest families, who, +having unwisely yielded herself, during many years past, to an +inordinate use of morphine, as an antidote to nervous disorder, had, on +the previous evening, in a temporary paroxysm of madness, succeeded in +taking her own life. "No other cause can be assigned for the rash act," +pursued the paragraph, "Mrs. V---- being, in all other respects than as +regarded this unfortunate weakness, blessed beyond the average. She was +at the moment, it is understood, contemplating immediate departure for a +lengthened sojourn in Europe, taking with her an only son, a young man +of fine attainments, and a recent graduate of one of our first +theological seminaries, who desired to seek, among the European +capitals, at once for the recreation and culture, which the arduous +preparation for and the enlightened prosecution of his exalted calling +rendered respectively necessary and desirable. It is not known whether +this sad casualty will cause him to relinquish his design." + +After finishing this paragraph, which discreetly suppressed any further +personality than to remark that the deceased bore one of those quaint +old Knickerbocker surnames which are in New York synonymous with _haut +ton_ and gentility, Bressant folded up the paper, and, resting his arms +upon the back of the seat in front of him, made them a pillow for his +forehead. This position he maintained so long, that his neighbor with +the wig came to the conclusion that he must be either asleep or drunk; +and, by way of arriving at some solution of the question, abstracted +from his hand the rolled-up newspaper which protruded out of it. At this +the young man roused himself, and presently turned to him of the wig, +and thanked him for his loan with an earnestness which appeared to him, +under the circumstances, rather uncalled for. He began to doubt the +prudence of sitting next to so large a man, of so singular a behavior, +and took advantage of the next vacancy that occurred to shift his +quarters, carrying the newspaper with him. + +Darkness had fallen, and the lighted interior of the crowded car had +duplicated itself, through the medium of the glass window-pane, upon the +black vacancy without, long before the train halted at the station which +marked the boundary of Bressant's riding privilege. He got out, and was +immediately smitten in the face by the cold, impalpable fingers of a +thick falling snow-storm. + +A bobbing lantern, carried by an invisible man, was all that came to +welcome him. He walked into the waiting-room, which was lighted by a +lamp with a dirty tin reflector behind it, and was furnished with a few +well-worn chairs, painted gray, and polished by use; a couple of +spittoons, and a pyramidal stove containing the ashes of the day's fire. +The plaster walls were ornamented by many-colored railway cards, and by +a fly-spotted and dusty map. A clock was fastened over the door. + +He turned to the man with the lantern (who was standing in the door-way, +looking as if he rather suspected Bressant contemplated stealing some of +the valuables of the place), and asked him whether he could tell him +the nearest road to his destination. After considerable questioning and +delay, the man finally announced his entire ignorance in the matter; and +Bressant was just about to make him a sharp rejoinder, when his eyes +happened to fall upon the map. He stepped up to it, and found it to be +of the State in which they were. + +By the aid of the lantern, and a good deal of dusting, he finally +discovered the spot in which he then stood, and managed to trace out a +doubtful line of road, between that and the place whither he was bound. +There seemed to be few cross-roads, however, and such as there were he +rapidly noted in his memory. In one place the road ran off in a kind of +loop, to pass through an outlying village, and, by making a cross-cut at +that point, he might save himself five or six miles. But since, on +calculation, he found it would be at least six o'clock in the morning +before he got to the loop in question, he decided not to risk +abandoning, in the state he would then be in, the beaten track for any +such problematical advantage. + +As he left the dirty waiting-room, and the invisible man with the +lantern, the clock over the door marked five minutes past eight. +Although it was more than twelve hours since he had eaten food, he was +not (owing to having passed so much of the day in sleep) so hungry as he +might have been. Nevertheless, appreciating what a task was before him, +he would have given any thing that he could call his own for a good meal +before starting. But he had handed over his last cent to the conductor, +and now, time pressed him. + +He was young and strong, and no one was more tireless in walking than +he; his joints were firm as iron, yet supple and springy; his muscles +tough and lean, of immense enduring power; his lungs were deep, and he +breathed easily through his nostrils; his gait was long and elastic; +but, had he been twice the man he was, the journey upon which he was now +started would have been no child's play; being what he was, it was +nothing less than a hazard of life and death. But Bressant seemed to +think the peril quite worth encountering, in consideration of the chance +of arriving by noon next day at the Parsonage-door; and, for the first +time in his life, he felt grateful to God for the mighty bones and +sinews he had given him. This was the time to use them, if they were +paralyzed forever after! + +Having gained the road, he set off with a long, swinging stride, such as +the Indians use, half-way between a walk and a run. As long as he could +keep that up, he would be making six miles an hour--a mile and a half +over the necessary rate; but he well knew he would need all his surplus +before morning broke, and was determined to make it as large as possible +before want of food weakened him. The road, except for the snow, was +favorable for speed, being nearly level and tolerably straight; but the +flakes flying into his eyes made it impossible to be sure of his +footing; and the various ruts and inequalities, common to all American +turn-pikes, and aggravated by the half-frozen snow covering, caused him +several slips and stumbles; trifling matters enough at other times, but +now, when every unnecessary breath and false step would count up +terribly, in the end, quite sufficiently serious. + +The vigorous motion, however, sent the blood singing through his body +from head to foot. He felt exhilarated and braced. The driving snow +melted pleasantly on his warm face, and ran down into his +thickly-curling beard, crusted over with frozen breath and sleet. The +cold air came long and refreshingly into his wide-open nostrils. He took +off his fur cap and threw open the breast of his pea-jacket. His +exuberant physical sensations wrought a corresponding effect upon his +previous mental gloom: he found himself looking to the future with +dawnings of a new hope and cheerfulness. At no time in his life had he +felt himself existing through so wide and full a range. He was a man now +in full breadth and height, and, as he looked back upon his previous +life, he could trace, as from a lofty vantage-ground, the plan and +bearing of his former thoughts and deeds. + +He remarked the wide discrepancies between what he had proposed and what +he had accomplished. How insignificant circumstances had effected +momentous results! He saw how, whenever failure and dishonor had +filtered in, it was where weakness, self-indulgence, or untruthfulness, +had left an opening. He saw how one wrong had been a sure and easy path +to another, until in the end he had groveled face downward in the mire. + +His mind turned on the two women between whom his path had lain: how +highly he had aimed, and how low he had fallen! How enviable would have +been his fate had he consistently kept to either! for each had been +peerless in her way. How despicable was his position having greedily +grasped at both! And now the one was dying, and the other degraded like +himself. A worthy record that! + +One was dying: yes, that he knew, and felt that upon his speed and +resolution did it depend whether in this world he might hope for the +blessing of forgiveness from her lips. The thought urged him on, +like an ever-fretting spur. He butted yet more swiftly into the +darkness and against the reeling snow-flakes, and the road lay in +steadily-lengthening stretches behind him. She was waiting for him--that +he felt--and was striving, with all her kind and loving might, to hold +herself in life until he came. God help him, then, to be there at the +appointed hour! + +And Cornelia? Of her he ventured not much to think. She was, perchance, +the key whereby, for her and for himself, this dark riddle should +hereafter be resolved. As Adam might labor for redemption only with his +sin about his neck, so they, out of the fabric woven of their disgrace, +must seek to fashion garments in which worthily to appear at heaven's +gates. + +As his mind rambled thus, he came to the outskirts of a long, wooded +tract, which--for the map, as he had seen it at the railway-station, was +clearly marked out in his memory, from the beginning to the end of his +route--he knew was upward of ten miles from his starting-point; and, as +near as he could judge (his watch, lying at the bottom of the +fountain-basin in the Parsonage-garden, had never been replaced), it +must be rather more than half-past nine o'clock. He maintained the same +long, swinging trot, as unfalteringly as ever, though, perhaps, a trifle +less springily than at first. The footing was deep and heavy, the thick +fir-trees having kept the snow from being blown off the road, as in +more exposed situations. Bressant was wet to his skin, for the +temperature had risen, and the flakes melted as fast as they fell. Most +of his glow and vigor remained, however, and he was no whit disheartened +or doubtful. But the sky bent darkly over him, and the tall trees shut +out all but a strip even of the scanty light that came thence. The moon +would not rise for hours yet. + +Another hour passed on over the toiling man. He had now begun to get +among hills, and his course was always either up or down. This was in +some degree a relief, affording change of movement to his muscles; but +it probably lost him some little time, and certainly gave plenty of +exercise to his lungs. Something of the superabundant warmth was leaving +his body. He replaced his cap and buttoned up his jacket. What would not +half a dozen biscuits have been worth to him now! + +On and on. The hills opened, and in the inclosure they made lay a small +village, with its white meeting-house and clustering dwellings. The +windows were many of them alight: the people were sitting up for the new +year. Bressant wondered whether it would dawn for any of them so +strangely as for him! As he hurried along the empty street, a sign over +one of the doors, barely discernible in the darkness, attracted his +attention. He paused close to it, and made out the words, "West India +goods and groceries;" and at once his fancy reveled in the savory +eatables stored beyond his reach. What cheese and butter, what hams, +biscuits, and apples; what salted codfish and strings of sausages, were +there! Had the store been open, he would have been tempted to rush in, +knock the salesman senseless, and make off with whatever he could carry. +Strange thoughts these for a man bound on an errand of life and death! +But hunger is no respecter of occasions, however inopportune, or of +emotions, however incongruous. Bressant passed on. He was now +twenty-five miles on his way, and as he came beneath the meeting-house +clock, it struck twelve: the new year had come! To Bressant it brought +only the knowledge that he was seven miles ahead of his time; and this +served in some measure to counteract the depression caused by his +hunger. But on--on! There were still fifty miles to go! + +The village vanished, like the old year, behind him. He was now crossing +a lofty plateau, over which swept the wind, strong and chilly. He began +to feel the cold now, and his wet clothes, once in a while, made him +shiver. His physical exhilaration had left him, and his long trot, save +where a downward slope favored him, had gradually sobered into a quick +walk. His shoes, soaked with snow-water, began to chafe his feet. But he +knew better than to stop for rest: the only safety lay in keeping +steadily on; and on he kept, his mouth set grimly, and his head a little +bent forward. + +From the top of the plateau was a gradual descent of some five miles; +and here Bressant again fell into a run, reaching the bottom, without +extraordinary exertion, in a trifle less than three-quarters of an hour. +He felt the need of his watch very keenly now; it would have been a +great assistance and encouragement to know just how much he was doing. +He could no longer afford to waste any strength, even in making +calculations; he was fully occupied in putting one foot before another. + +How dark, and cold, and blankly disheartening it was! He had now +completed fifty miles, though he knew it not; but it seemed to him as if +he had been full a hundred. His feet, rubbed raw, and stiffened by the +cold, were beginning to retard his pace alarmingly. His face and lips +were pale; a sensation of emptiness and chilled vitality pervaded his +body. It had come down to grim hard work; every step was a conscious +effort; and yet he had no time to spare. + +The storm had lightened considerably, but the young man's eyes were dull +and heavy; it was a constant struggle to keep awake. He scarcely +attended to the road, but plunged along, careless of where he trod. +Suddenly, however, and for the first time since starting, he came to a +dead halt, and, after gazing about him a moment, cried out in dismay. +And well he might, for he stood in a field, with no sign anywhere of +road or path! In his sleepy inattention, he had lost his way and +wandered he knew not whither. + +At first he was too much paralyzed by this discovery to think or act. He +threw himself face downward on the snow, and lay like a log. God was +against him! How could he go on? Ah, how sweet felt that cold bed! Let +him lie there in peace, to move no more! Surely he had done his best; +who could blame him for a failure beyond his power to avert? The +darkness would pass over him, and leave him stretched there motionless; +the first light of morning would mark the dark outlines of his prostrate +figure, and he would not turn to greet it. Daylight would succeed, the +sun would climb the sky and shine down upon him warmly; but he would be +insensible as to the darkness or the cold. Twilight would settle over +the field again, and night, following, would find him as she had left +him, prone upon his face, with outstretched arms. For he would be +dead--dead--dead--and at rest! + +But the end had not yet come. Ere he had quite sunk into insensibility, +he was conscious of a feeling within him, as if some one were +pulling--pulling at his heart, with a force benign and loving, yet +strong as death itself. He staggered to his feet, and, stumbling as he +walked, set his face against the cold and cheerless sky once more. The +pulling at his heart-strings seemed to draw him steadily in one certain +direction; he traversed acres of field and pasture-land blind and +insensible to every thing save this mysterious guide. In his weak and +exhausted state his spiritual perceptions were doubtless less incumbered +than when he was in full possession of his strength. So he was drawn +undeviatingly on and on, until, unexpectedly, he found himself in a road +again. Then he recognized that it was Sophie's spirit which had rescued +him from death and failure. He had unconsciously made the short cut +across the fields, which he had noticed and decided not to attempt when +examining the map. He had saved five miles in distance, equal to fully +an hour in time. The thought inspired him anew, and gave him further +strength. With such divine encouragement, he could falter and hesitate +no more. + +Morning began to break dully over the sullen clouds as he resumed in +earnest his weary journey. Each yard of ground passed was now a battle +gained--every breath drawn a sobbing groan. Hills and dales rose +successively before him, clothed in the dead-white snow that had become +a nightmare to his darkening sight. He reeled sometimes as he walked, +dizzy from lack of sleep; a thousand fantastic fancies flitted through +his hot brain; a deadly lethargy began once more to creep over his +senses, but he gnawed the flesh of his lips to keep back consciousness. +And still, when will grew powerless, he felt the mysterious strain upon +his heart. + +Only ten miles more! But they seemed by far the longer part of the whole +way. He was now within the range of his walks while living at the +boarding-house, and could see in his mind every slope and ascent, every +curve and angle, that lay between him and the Parsonage-door; and he +felt the weight of every hill upon his shoulders. At the risk of +falling, he stooped, snatched a handful of snow, and put it inside his +cap, so that it lay, cold and refreshing, upon his brain. Then he took a +handful in either hand, and so kept on. + +The minutes grew into hours; the hours seemed to become days; but there, +at last, the well-known village lay! How reposeful and unconcerned the +houses looked, as if there were no such thing in the world as effort, +despair, or victory! As he came near, Bressant tried to nerve himself, +to walk erect and steady, to clear and concentrate his swimming sight +and confused head. He dreaded to meet the village-people, to have them +come staring and questioning about him, whispering and laughing among +themselves, and asking one another what was the matter with the man who +was engaged to the minister's daughter on this his wedding-morning. +Just then he felt a gentle pulling at his heart! + +Presently he was in the village. There was a disjointed vision of faces, +some of which he knew, floating around him. Once in a while he caught +the sound of a voice through the humming in his ears. Were they offering +him assistance? warning him? calling to him? He knew not, nor cared. He +passed on, feebly but desperately. He saw the clock on the +church-steeple mark half-past eleven; still in time, thank God! but no +time to lose. + +How well he knew the road, over which he was now groping his staggering +and uncertain way! In how many moods he had walked it, actuated by how +many different passions and impulses! And now he was as one dead, whose +body is dragged strangely onward by some invincibly-determined will. A +great fear suddenly seized upon him that here, upon this very last mile +of all the weary ones he had trod since the previous night-fall, he was +going to sink down, and give up his life and his attempt at the same +moment. Oh, Heaven help him to the end! O Sophie, let not the tender +strain upon his heart relax! + +For nothing less than that can save him now! His eyes see no longer; his +feet stumble in ignorance; he sleeps, and dreams of events which +happened--was it long ago?--upon this road. Here he met and talked with +Cornelia, that autumn day. Back there, they paused on the brow of the +hill, one moonlight night, was that so long ago, too? Here, some time in +the past, he had found a lifeless body in the snow, clad in a bridal +dress; here, he had caught a runaway horse by the head, and-- + +He fell headlong to the ground. The shock partly awoke him. He struggled +up to his knees--was there any one assisting him?--another struggle--he +was on his feet. Right before him lay the house--the old Parsonage; +there were the gate, the path, the porch. He made a final effort--it +forced a deadly sweat from his forehead--and still there was a vague +sense of being supported and directed by some one--he could not stop to +see or question who; but, had it not been for that support, he must have +failed. The gate opened, with its old creak and rattle, before him; a +hand he saw not held it till he passed through. + +Now, at the moment when he had fallen in the road, of the three who had +all along been awaiting him within--of these three, two only were left. +But, so quietly had the third departed, the others perceived not that +she was gone. The features, which remained, wore an expression of +angelic happiness. It was as she had wished. + +At the same moment, too, through a rift in the dull sky, a little gleam +of sunshine--the first of that gray day--descended, and rested upon +Bressant. It accompanied him to the gate, and, still keeping close to +him, slipped up the path between the trees, and even followed him on to +the porch, where it brightened about him, as he put his hand to the +latch. Was it a symbol of some loving spirit, newly set free from its +mortal body, come to watch over him for evermore? + +An old woman, who stood without clutching the palings of the gate, saw +Bressant open the door and pass inward, and the sunshine entered with +him. The door was left ajar--might she not enter too? Just then, a +little ormolu clock, on the mantel-piece inside, gave a preliminary +whirr, and hastily struck the hour of noon. As if in answer to a signal, +the sun smiled broadly forth, and quite transfigured the weather-beaten +old Parsonage. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRESSANT*** + + +******* This file should be named 15596.txt or 15596.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15596 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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