Bressant

By the time Professor Valeyon had remounted the granite steps, he was

quite ready to do justice to his breakfast. Cornelia came singing

down-stairs, with a full-blown tea-rose in her hair, and looking as if

she had already breakfasted upon the greater part of the day's sunshine.

She reported Sophie to be awake and comfortable, so the gentleman

climbed up-stairs and shuffled into her peaceful, rose-colored room to

give her a morning kiss. The Lord's Prayer glowed forth as brightly from

the wall as if it had been pronounced for the first time that day.

"Well, heard all about my new pupil from Cornelia, I suppose?" said

papa, when the kiss had been given, sitting down by the bedside, and

holding his daughter's pale, slender hand in his own.

"He who came last evening? No, I've not seen Neelie to speak to her,

since he was here. What is he to be taught?"

"Wants to be a minister," replied the professor, rubbing his beard.

"Shall do what I can for him, because he's the son of a former friend,

now dead. I'm afraid he won't do, though. Needs a good deal besides

Hebrew and history."

"But you can give him all he does need, papa," rejoined Sophie, with

serene faith in the old gentleman's infallibility.

"I don't know," returned he, his eyes resting upon the Lord's Prayer. "I

don't know," he repeated, turning them to his daughter's transparent

face, which seemed almost an incarnation of the divine words. "I think,

my dear, that you could put some ideas into his head that would do him

more good than any thing I can give him;" and he smiled gravely upon

her.

"All right, papa," said Sophie, gayly, with a tender kindling of her

soft, gray eyes. "Nothing could make me happier than to do good to

somebody. As soon as I get well enough, I'll take him under my charge."

Her manner was playful, but there was a vibration in her tone which

caught the professor's ear, and conveyed to him the idea that there was

an unseen depth of yearning and passionate desire to be something more

than an invalid, selfish and helpless, during her earthly life; an

inheritance, perhaps, of the apostolic spirit which had played a not

inconsiderable part in the history of his own life. And surely, he may

have thought, there never was human being better qualified than she to

inspire to high and pure simplicity of life and thought, were it merely

by the example of her own. And would it not be a strange and beautiful

thing, if this beloved daughter of his should be the means of turning to

worthier and truer ambitions a man whom, of all others, he had reason to

wish honored and respected among mankind! It was a very alluring

thought, and the professor quite lost himself for a few moments in the

contemplation of it. He did not reflect, and Sophie could not know, that

there might be danger in the prosecution of such a scheme; for, all the

knowledge which a young girl like her can have or impart, must find its

ultimate origin in the heart. But then, again, the matter had taken no

definite or practical shape in his mind as yet, and things which in the

abstract may wear an appearance of being highly desirable often put on

quite a different look when presented in concrete form. This would be

especially the case with a man like Professor Valeyon, who was half a

dreamer, and half a practical, common-sensible individual. With Sophie,

however, whose whole life was necessarily a tissue of delicate and

high-wrought theories, there was no safeguard of the kind to be relied

upon.