Bressant

On the whole, therefore, the boarding-house keeper remained a problem or

a commonplace, according to the fancy of the observer. In any case, she

had grown to be a necessity, if not a popular element, in the village

society. It was in her large, rambling rooms that all the grand parties

and social celebrations took place. Was a picnic or other

pleasure-expedition in prospect, Abbie's experience and managing ability

were depended on for its success. She it was who arranged the details of

weddings; and her assistance was almost as necessary a condition of a

legitimate funeral, as that of Death himself!

Professor Valeyon drove up to the door in his wagon, got down with all

the care that the successful support of his burden of years demanded,

and chained Dolly to the much-gnawed post which was fixed for the

purpose on the edge of the sidewalk. He ascended the steps, and was met

by Abbie on the threshold. He removed his hat with old-fashioned

courtesy, and gave her cold hand a quiet, warm grasp.

"Good-morning, Abbie," said he, gruffly, but cheerfully, and with a very

kind look out of his deep-set old eyes. "Is all well with you this

morning?"

"Yes," replied she, with a faint smile, that seemed to show more of

weariness than merriment. "Come into the boudoir, Professor Valeyon.

You're a stranger."

"But that's going to be remedied--that's going to be remedied!" rejoined

the old gentleman, seating himself, and allowing his hand to wander to

the top of his head, to make sure the hair-swathe was safely in

position. "Bond of union been established between us, you know."

Abbie laid her finger upon her under lip--a common act of hers when

interested or absorbed--and looked at her caller inquiringly.

"That young fellow that came last night, sent his trunk up before coming

himself. Saw him, didn't you?"

Abbie shook her head. "I saw his trunk, but not him. Mr. Bressant, I

think. You know him?"

"He's going to study divinity with me. I take some interest in him,

though he's in an unsatisfactory condition just now; intellectual

savagery, I should call it. I take it, his training has been at fault.

Seems to have no social nor affectionate instincts. It would be a good

thing to make him feel their value, to begin with."

"I'll make it as home-like for him as I can, Professor Valeyon."

"Well, well! I meant to ask you to do it. It'll be a new experience for

him. He's never known a mother since he was a baby, and his father

was--well!"--the old man checked himself--"his father is just dead." He

seemed about to add something more in regard to the deceased gentleman,

but forbore, glancing narrowly at Abbie, who looked only grave and

thoughtful.