that's certain. Never saw such a figure
but once before! If any thing, this is the better man of the two.
By-the-way, what if it should be--! Humph! I believe it is, sure
enough."

By this time the stranger, a very tall and broadly built young man, with
a close brown beard, and quick, comprehensive eyes, had arrived opposite
the house, and stood with one hand on the gate.

"Is this the parsonage?" demanded he, speaking with great rapidity of
utterance, and turning his head half sideways as he spoke, without,
however, removing his eyes from the professor's face.

The old gentleman nodded his head, "It is known by that name, sir!" said
he.

With the almost impatient quickness which marked every thing he did--a
quickness which did not seem in any way allied to slovenliness or
inaccuracy, however--the young man pushed through the gate, which
protested loudly against such rough usage, and walked hastily up to the
porch-steps. He paused a moment ere ascending.

"Are you Professor Valeyon?" he asked.

Again the professor bowed his head in assent. "And are you--?" began
he.

The young man sprang up the steps, and grasping the other's
half-extended hand, gave it a brief, hard shake.

"I'm Bressant," said he.

CHAPTER III.

SOPHIE AND CORNELIA ENTER INTO A COVENANT.

When Cornelia left her father on the balcony, she danced up-stairs, and
chasseed on tiptoe up to the door of Sophie's room. There she stopped
and knocked.

Somehow or other, nobody ever went into that room without knocking. It
never entered any one's head to burst in unannounced. The door was an
unimposing-looking piece of deal, grained by some village artist into
the portraiture of an as yet undiscovered kind of wood, and considerably
impaired in various ways by time. It could not have been the door,
therefore. Nor was the bolt ever drawn, save at certain hours of the
morning and night. Sophie was not an ogre, either. Cornelia, who was
very trying at times, would have found it hard to recall an occasion
when Sophie had answered or addressed her sharply or crossly. If she
exerted any influence, or wielded any power, it was not of the kind
which attends a violent or morose temper. But no vixen or shrew, how
terrible soever she may be, can hope at all times or from all people to
meet with respect or consideration; while to Sophie Valeyon the world
always put on its best face and manner, secretly wondering at itself the
while for being so well-