Bressant

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.