The vigorous roundness
of her full and perfect figure was hinted here and there through the
light drapery of her dress, as she walked forward. The October breeze
seemed the sweeter for blowing past her.
"You must be rather late--I don't often meet you!" said she, with a
smile which put Bressant traitorously at his ease.
"Early, more than late," responded he, stopping as he saw that she
stopped.
"Are you?--well, then--I don't often see you--would you mind walking
with me just a little way?" and she touched him lightly on the shoulder
with her maple-branch, as with the wand of an enchantress.
He, in obedience rather to the touch than the words, turned about and
walked beside her.
"I've a right to a sister's privileges, you know," continued she,
slipping her hand beneath his arm, and letting it rest upon it.
How very delightful, as well as simple, to solve the problem of their
intercourse on this basis! Bressant did not know how it might feel to
have a sister, but he could, at the moment, imagine nothing more
delightful than to be Cornelia's brother--unless it were to be Sophie's
husband. But to be both!
"Do you know," pursued she, with apparent hesitation, looking up in his
face, and then immediately looking down again, "I've had a notion, since
coming back from New York, that you don't like me so well as you did?"
This might be either audacity or delicacy, as one chose to take it.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288