Bressant

"God and heaven seem unreal--unsubstantial, at any rate--compared with

you," said Bressant, striking his hand heavily upon the arm of the

rustic bench. "My love for you is greater than for them!"

"Oh, stop! hush!" cried Sophie, flinching back as if she had received a

mortal thrust. The light of indignation and repulse in her gray eyes was

awful to Bressant, and his own dropped beneath it. "Have you no respect

for your soul?" she continued, presently. "How long would such love

last? in what would it end? it would not be love--it would be the

deadliest kind of hate."

Bressant rose to his feet, and made a gesture with his arms in the air,

as if striving by a physical act to regain the mental force and

equilibrium which Sophie had so unexpectedly overthrown. The mighty

strength and untamed vehemence of the man's nature were exhibited in the

movement. Sophie saw, in the vision of a moment, on how wild and stormy

a sea she had embarked, and for a moment, perhaps, she quailed at the

sight. But again her great love brought back the flush of dauntless

courage, and her trembling ceased. She became aware, at that critical

moment, that she was the stronger of the two; and Bressant probably felt

it also. He had put forth all his power in a passionate and convulsive

effort to prevail over the soul of this delicate girl, and he had been

worsted in the brief, silent struggle. He did not need to look in her

clear eyes to know it.

His love must have been strong, indeed; for it stood the test of the

defeat. He sat down again, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation,

he held out his hand toward her. She put her own in it, with its

pressure, soft and delicately strong.

"I can't reason about these things--I can only feel," said he. "You can

look into my heart if you will. Don't give me up: you can help me to see

it all as you do. Isn't it your duty, Sophie, if you love me?"

"Oh! I will pray for you, my darling," she answered, almost sobbing in

the tenderness of her great heart, and laying her head upon his broad

shoulder. "I would not lose your love for all the world; but I feared

you might be led to something--something that would prevent your loving

either God or me. Promise me something, dear: if you are ever in trouble

or danger, and I'm not with you, come to me! No harm can reach us when

we're together. You need me, and I you."

"I promise," replied Bressant.

In the short silence that followed, Sophie heard, though Bressant could

not, a quick, excited, warbling voice calling her again and again by

name. She released herself from her lover's hold, and sprang up with a

cry of delight.