"Dear me! I'd no more think of trying to teach that
great big thing any thing than--any thing!"
"But you can make him go to Abbie's party, if you are to be there
yourself, and then, if you don't want to instruct him, you can give him
to some one who isn't afraid of him, and--have Bill Reynolds all to
yourself."
Cornelia laughed and pouted, and told Sophie she was mean; but probably
felt it a relief to have poor Bill's name introduced, he being so
palpably _hors de combat_.
"It would be pretty good fun, after all--walking round on the arm of
that great, tall, broad-shouldered creature, and telling him how to
behave! I believe I _will_ try it!" and she straightened herself up with
a very valiant air.
"It will be your last chance, remember!" said Sophie, looking up with a
deep smile in her eyes. "I promised papa that when I was well I'd take
charge of Mr. Bressant myself!"
Sophie's life, as has been said, was preeminently an ideal one.
Materialism disturbed and perplexed her, and she ignored it as much as
possible. She was inspired and excited by the ideal she had conceived of
Bressant, and of her sphere of action with regard to him. But, had the
physical personality of the man been thrust upon her in the first place,
she would have very likely recoiled, her finer intuitions would have
been jarred, and their precision paralyzed.
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