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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"Bressant"

Cornelia was troubled
with no such misplaced self-dental; she threw herself impatiently down
by Sophie, and sobbed with all her might. Possibly it was more than one
regret that found utterance then.
"You'll be all well and walking about when I come back, won't you dear?"
said she, at last, in a shaking voice.
"I shall get well thinking what a splendid time you're having,
darling."
"Sophie--will you be quite the same to me when I come back?"
"Why, Neelie, dear, what a question! I shall always be the same to you."
"But I feel as if there were going to be something--that something was
going to come between us;" and Cornelia began to droop like a flower
under an icy wind. "You never could hate me, could you, Sophie?"
"Hate you! Neelie! What makes you speak so, dear? I have no misgivings."
"Oh! I don't know--I don't know! it must be because I'm wicked!"
"_You_ wicked, my darling sister! Come," said Sophie, with an earnest
smile, "think only of how much we love each other; let the misgivings
go."
"Yes, we do love each other now, don't we? Whatever happens we'll always
remember that. Good-by, Sophie!" said Cornelia, with a strong hug and a
long kiss.
"Good-by, dear Neelie!"
Cornelia ran down-stairs; her papa had just gone out to the wagon; she
went into Bressant's room, and walked quickly up to the bedside.


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