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.