Bressant

In Cornelia's mind there was no intention of ruining her sister's

happiness by interfering between her and Bressant; but then she did not

think it likely that to lose him would occasion Sophie any thing more

than a temporary and comparatively trifling degree of suffering. If she

could allow her love for him to depend upon the immaculateness of his

moral character, she did not love him as much as Cornelia, to whose

affection any considerations of that kind were immaterial. What, after

all, was Sophie's love but an idealization, which had, to be sure, taken

Bressant as its object, but which placed no vital dependence upon him?

But Cornelia's love was to her a matter of life and death: she was

quite convinced that to live without Bressant would be an impossibility.

The next question was, whether Bressant was really as good as Sophie

believed him to be. Cornelia did not think he was. Perhaps a secret

sense of his attitude toward her suggested her suspicions; perhaps they

were the result of her New-York experience, which had taught her just

enough about men to make her imagine there was more or less of dark and

indefinite villainy in the composition of all of them; perhaps it was

her wish that fathered her moral misgivings about him--for it must be

confessed that Cornelia was very far from shrinking at the idea of

seeing her suspicions verified.

Indeed, was it not, on all accounts, desirable that, whatever

objectionable points and passages the young man's life-record contained,

should be at once forthcoming? Cornelia could not restrain a feeling of

satisfaction at the growing conviction that it would be doing Sophie a

kind and friendly service to inform her, in time, what a reprobate she

was about to marry--if he only could be proved a reprobate! This

question of proof was the only one difficulty in Cornelia's way; all the

rest was as clear and easy as is generally the case in such matters.

It would not do to lie about it: Cornelia had a natural if not a moral

disinclination to falsehood, and was, moreover, acute enough to see how

strong, in this case, would be the chances of detection. It was not

likely that Sophie would accept upon hearsay any imputations or

accusations against her lover: she would speak to Bressant at once; the

lie would be revealed, and the result would be not only a failure to

alienate Sophie from him, but a certainty of alienating him from

Cornelia.

No; her reliance must be placed upon facts. Whatever she could hear to

the young man's disadvantage that was true, beyond the possibility of

his denial, that she must at once make known to Sophie: it was no less

than her duty. Or, better still, why would it not be enough simply to

inform Bressant of her dark discovery, and compel him, by the threat of

revelation, to give up Sophie of his own accord! Cornelia, in

congratulating herself upon this shrewd idea, did not perceive how

entirely it transformed the whole aspect and spirit of her intention.