suffering,
barren effort, and hope deferred; its sunlit walls were hewn of solid
faith; the banner which floated over the battlements was woven with
white threads of truth; over the arched entrance-gate was written
"Constancy." Yet, fair and lofty as the castle was, the
building-materials were taken from no less homely edifices than the
village boarding-house and his own Parsonage!

By-and-by, however, the vision faded, or else the clouds upon which it
was built rose up and hid it. The professor, returning to himself, found
that he was now surrounded with thick darkness, and, strive as he would,
he could paint no fancies upon it which did not partake more or less of
the character of the background. Sophie seemed to have lost the steady
cheer of her aspect; she was pale and fragile, and every moment took
away yet more of earthly substance, till scarcely any thing but the
faint lustre of her face and form remained. Then, all at once, the
features which had heretofore been only sad, changed into an expression
of horror and torture and despair; and, while the professor, himself
aghast, strained his old eyes to make out more clearly the
half-indistinguishable image, it vanished quite away. But, at the last
moment, it had spoken--at least, the lips bad moved as if in speech,
though no sound had reached the professor's ears; yet he fancied he had
caught a glimmering of the purport. He pressed his hands over his
forehead to shut out the thought, and wondered no longer at the
expression upon Sophie's face.

Then Cornelia moved across the hollow blackness of the room. She was
sunshiny no longer, but morose and stern; her eyebrows were drawn
together; a secret defiance was in her tigerish eyes; her lips were set,
yet seemed, ever and anon, as she turned her face aside, to tremble
with a passionate yearning. As he gazed, she disappeared, but the
professor had a feeling that she was still concealed somewhere in the
darkness. And, at last, she came again--she, or something that looked
like her. The old gentleman shivered and recoiled, as though a
snow-drift had somehow blown into his warm, old heart. Was it his
daughter who looked with those unmeaning eyes, encircled with dark
rings, in which life and passion burned out had left the dull ashes of
remorse and hopelessness? Where were the luminous cheeks and the queenly
step of his proud and beautiful Cornelia?--What words were those? or was
it only fancy?--Ah!--The professor started