"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.