In a few quick moments more he stood before the
door, glowing warm, from head to foot, drawing his deep breath easily,
his blood flowing in full, steady beats through heart and veins. He took
off his hat, passed his handkerchief over forehead and face, and then
pulled the tinkling door-bell. A fat Irish girl presently appeared, and
ushered him in with a stare and a grin, wiping her hands upon her apron.
Meanwhile Cornelia, having said a few words to her father to excuse
Bressant's unceremonious departure--she refrained instinctively from
letting him know what had actually taken place--bade him good-night, and
went up-stairs with a more sober step than was her wont. She tapped at
Sophie's door, and stayed just long enough to make the necessary
arrangements for the night. Sophie, being drowsy, asked but few
questions, and received brief replies. When Cornelia reached her own
room, she closed the door with a feeling of relief. It had never been
her habit to fasten her door; but to-night, after advancing a few paces
into the chamber, she hesitated, turned back, and drew the bolt. Then,
having hastily pulled down the curtains, she seemed for the first time
to be free from a sensation of restraint.
She walked up to the dressing-table, which was covered with a disorderly
medley of a young lady's toilet articles--comb and brush, a paper of
pins, ribbons, a brooch, little vase for rings, an open purse, a soiled
handkerchief--and began mechanically to undo her hair, and shake out the
braids.
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