"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.