Bressant

"How old is he? A boy?" she asked, presently.

"Boyish in some ways, but must be twenty-five or six, and looks older. A

tall fellow, well made."

"He might still be a son of mine," said Abbie, with another dim smile,

and a sigh. "Perhaps it would do me no harm to consider him as such.

Would that satisfy you?"

"Just what I want!" exclaimed the professor heartily, and with

heightened color. "Something can be made of him, I think," he added;

"but a great deal depends on the sort of treatment he eats and sleeps

under. Well, you be motherly to him, Abbie. That's all I have to ask.

You will find good in it for yourself, too, as you say: more than you

think, very likely."

She sighed again, playing absently with her fingers upon her

dark-colored dress, and gazing out of the window. Professor Valeyon said

no more on the subject of Bressant, but spoke of Cornelia's proposed

trip, and the Fourth-of-July party, and Sophie's convalescence; and

finally took his straw-hat from the table upon which he had placed it,

and moved toward the door.

"Good-by, Abbie. Remember"--the old gentleman paused, with her hand in

his, and glowing upon her from beneath his bushy eyebrows; "remember you

have friends about you who don't need to be sought after. And another

thing, Abbie; if you should ever find that Time has the power to

liberate as well as to imprison you, don't forget that some wants may

exist a long while without finding expression, but that they do exist,

for all that!"

Perhaps it was the consciousness that he was using rather grandiloquent

language in the wording of this enigmatical little speech, that caused

the good professor to look so red and embarrassed. Abbie drew her hand

away, and laid her finger on her lip.

"Can you still say that?" asked she, with a sad kind of gleam in her

eyes and voice.

"More than ever--more than ever!" declared he, with emphatic

incoherence. And without more words he hurried down the steps, and in

another minute was rattling rapidly homeward, astonishing Dolly herself

by the speed which he encouraged her to put forth.

"It'll all work round," soliloquized he; "very good beginning this. If I

could have spoken more explicitly--but she'll be prepared, and that's a

great step toward clearing things up. Gee up! Dolly."