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.




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