Bressant
Page 50"You see, sir," proceeded Abbie, gently rattling the bunch of keys that
hung at her belt, "we've been in the habit of giving a party here, three
or four times a year, for the young folks to come and dance and enjoy
themselves. There will be one next Thursday, the 4th of July. Will you
come down, and join in?"
Bressant threw back his head, with one of his brief laughs. "Come to a
dance? But I don't know how to dance! I never go into society. What
should I do? Thank you for asking me!"
"I thought you might be interested to look on at one of our country
hops," said Abbie, whose eyes observed the young man's manner, as he
spoke, with a closeness that would have embarrassed most men. "There's a
good deal to amuse yourself with besides dancing. The school-master will
"Professor Valeyon?" repeated Bressant, leaning forward, with his hand
to his ear, and the vivid, questioning expression on his face, which was
peculiar to himself.
The movement appeared to produce a disproportionate effect upon Abbie.
Her finger tremblingly sought her under lip; a quiver, as if from a
sudden pain, passed across her forehead; there was a momentary
unsteadiness in her eyes, and then they fastened, almost rigidly, upon
the young man's face. So habitual was the woman's self-control, however,
that these symptoms, whatever they betokened, were repressed and
annulled, till none, save a particularly sharp-sighted person, would
have noticed them. Bressant was thinking only of Professor Valeyon, and
spasms of his landlady.
"The professor and Miss Valeyon will both come," said Abbie, as soon as
the neuralgia, if that it were, would allow her to speak. "Excuse me,
sir--may I sit down a moment?" These words were uttered hurriedly, and,
at the same moment, the woman made a sudden step to the lounge, and
dropped down upon it so abruptly that the venerable springs creaked
again.
"Beg your pardon, ma'am," said Bressant, rather awkwardly. "Must be an
infirm old person," he added to himself. "She looks older, even, than
when she came in!"
"Well, sir," said she, with rather a constrained air, rising, from the
infirmity; "well, sir, shall I expect you on Thursday evening?"
"Yes; I'll come," said he, with an elastic inclination of his shoulders,
and a smile. He thought himself fortunate in so good an opportunity to
put his invulnerability to the proof.
Abbie bowed without speaking, and moved toward the door. Having opened
it, she turned round, with her hands upon the latch: "Professor Valeyon
tells me you're an orphan, sir?"
"My father died last month; I never knew my mother," returned Bressant,
pushing his brown beard between his teeth, and biting it impatiently. He
wished people would get through asking him about his deceased relatives.