"
"You'd like to marry her?" repeated the old gentleman, with a mixture of
sternness and astonishment, his forehead reddening. "What else do you
suppose I expected, sir?"
Bressant turned over on his side, and regarded him with some curiosity.
"Do all people who love each other, or because they love each other,
marry?" demanded he.
For a moment, the professor seemed to suspect some latent satire in this
question; but the young man's face convinced him to the contrary.
"In many marriages, there's little love--true love--on either side;
that's certain," said he, passing his hand down his face, and looking
grave. "But marriage was ordained for none but lovers."
"The reason I want to be married to Sophie is because I love her so much
I couldn't live without her," resumed Bressant, as if stating some
unusual circumstance.
"Humph!" ejaculated the professor, partly amused and partly puzzled.
Bressant rubbed his forehead, and fingered his beard awhile, and then
continued:
"We've been reading poetry lately, and romances, and such things. I used
to think they were nonsense--good for nothing; because they came out so
beautifully, and represented love to be so great an element in the
world. But now I see they were not good enough; they are much below the
truth; I mean to write poetry and romances myself!"
This tickled Professor Valeyon so much, that he burst out in a most
genuine laugh.
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