Bressant

"Why, it's on your head, papa!" warbled she, brightly changing a laugh

for her tears; and papa, putting up his hand in great confusion, and

finding that it was indeed so, laughed also, and this time in a

perfectly natural manner; but he blew his nose very resoundingly, for

all that.

The atmosphere being serene once more, the joy of the future became

again strong in Cornelia's heart, and coupled with it, an earnest

longing to disburden herself to some one, and who but her sister should

be her confidant? So she rose from her knees, and picked up her brown

straw hat, which, in the excitement, had fallen to the floor.

"Is there any thing you'd like to do, papa dear?" asked she, laying her

forefinger caressingly upon his bald head. "Because if there isn't, I, I

should like--I think I'd better go to Sophie."

Professor Valeyon nodded his head, being in truth desirous of taking

solitary counsel with himself. The letter contained a good deal more

than the invitation he had communicated to Cornelia, and he could not

feel at ease until he had more thoroughly analyzed and digested it. So

when his daughter had vanished through the door, with a smile and a kiss

of the hand, he mounted his spectacles again, and spread the letter open

on his knee.

After reading a while in silence, he spoke; though his voice was audible

only to his own mental ears.

"There was a time," said he, "when I wouldn't have believed I could ever

hear the news of that man's death, and take it so quietly! And now he

sends me his son!--as it were bequeaths him to me. Can it be as a

hostage for forgiveness, though so late? or is it merely because he knew

I could not but feel a vital interest in the boy, and would instruct and

treat him as my own? He was a shrewd judge of human nature--and yet, I

must not judge him harshly now."

Here Professor Valeyon happened again to catch sight of his slipper, and

interrupted his soliloquy to extend his stockinged toe, fork it toward

himself, and having, with some trouble, got it right side uppermost, to

put it on. And then he referred once more to the letter.

"I should like to know whether he was aware that Abbie was here, or that

she was alive at all! Margaret says nothing about it in her letter. If

he did, of course he must have written to her, or, if he was determined

to die as for these last twenty years and more he has lived, he would

never knowingly have sent the boy where she was, on any consideration.

Well, well, I can easily find out how that is, from either Abbie or the

boy. By-the-way, I wonder whether this incognito of his may have any

thing to do with it? Hum! Margaret says it's only so that he may not be

interrupted in his studies by acquaintances. Well, that's likely

enough--that's likely enough!"