Bressant

The faintest of breezes wafted in the young people's faces as they

descended the wooden steps of the boarding-house and passed along the

dark, deserted sidewalk of the village street. The noisy dance was soon

left at a distance; how extravagant and unnatural it seemed in

comparison with the deep, sweet night in which they were losing

themselves!

The brightness of the stars, and the wavering peaks and jagged edges of

the northern lights, brought out the shadows of the uneven hills, and

revealed the winding length of downy mist which kept the stream in the

valley warm. Such was the stillness, and the subdued tone of the

landscape, that it seemed unreal--the phantom of a world which had lost

its sunshine, and was mourning for it in gentle melancholy.

The sense of the solitude around them brought the young man and woman

closer to one another. For enjoyment to be, mortally speaking, perfect,

it needs that a soft and dreamy element of sadness should be added to

it; and this was given by the gracious influence of the night. The

darkness, too, encouraged the germs of that mutual reliance,

hopefulness, and trust, which combine to build up the more vital and

profound relations of life. There is a magic mystery and power in it,

which we can laugh at in the sunshine, but whose reality, at times,

forces itself upon us mightily.

As Bressant trod onward, with the warm and lovely woman living and

moving at his side, and clinging to his arm with a dainty pressure, just

perceptible enough to make him wish it were a little closer--it entered

his mind to marvel at the tender change that seemed to have come over

familiar things.

"I've walked often in the night, before," observed he, looking around

him, and then at Cornelia; "on the same road, too; but it never made me

feel as now. It is beautiful." He used the word with a doubtful

intonation, as if unaccustomed to it, and not quite sure whether he were

applying it correctly.

"You speak as if you didn't know what you were talking about!" said

Cornelia, with a round, melodious laugh. "Did you never see or care for

any thing beautiful before this evening?"

"You remember that night in the garden?" asked Bressant, abruptly. "I've

learned a great deal since then. I couldn't understand it at the moment;

I wasn't prepared for it--understand? but I know now--it was beauty--I

saw it and felt it--and it drove me out of myself."

Cornelia was thrilled, half with fear and half with delight. Bressant

spoke with an almost fierce sincerity and earnestness of conviction,

that quite overbore the shield of playful incredulity which woman

instinctively raises on such occasions; they seemed to have crossed, at

one step, the pale of conventionalities; and, sweet and alluring as the

outer wilderness may be, it is wilderness still, and full of sudden

precipices. Besides, the very energy and impetuosity which the young man

showed, suggested the apprehension that the power of his newly-awakened

emotions was greater than his ability to control and manage them.