It's owner now became visible. She was a delicate-looking girl, with a
pale, conch-shell complexion, brown hair as fine as silk, and pleasant,
serene, gray eyes. She was dressed very simply in white, with a blue
band across her hair, and a blue scarf and sash around throat and waist.
Her face, though showing signs of quiet strength, and of a
self-confidence which was the flower of maidenly modesty and innocence,
was not beautiful according to any recognized standard. Bressant, from
his intuitive perception of form and proportion, was aware of this. The
forehead was too high, the nose irregular, the mouth lacked the perfect
curve, and the teeth, though white and even, were not small enough for
beauty.
Nevertheless, Bressant was at once impressed with the young girl's
presence. It was as if an ethereal cloud--such as that which, shone
through by white sunlight, was just floating past the window--had eddied
unexpectedly into his chamber, cooling and quieting him with the
freshness of its heavenly vapor. Her eyes met his with a simple
directness which made his glance waver, though he was not given to
humility. Something, whereof neither science nor philosophy can take
cognizance, seemed to emanate from her, elevating while it humbled him.
"If I'd known who you were, I--I shouldn't have asked you to shut the
door!" said he, in an apologetic tone quite new to him.
"And how do you know who I am?" inquired the vision, with a refreshing
smile.
"I meant, what sort of a person you were; but you must be Miss Sophie:
only I thought she was ill."
"I am Miss Sophie, but I'm not to be thought ill any more. One invalid
in the house is enough. I'm going to nurse you, and, since I'm well, you
may be twice as ill as ever, if you choose."
"Well!" said Bressant, quite resignedly. He was becoming a very
respectable patient.
"In what way do you want to be taken care of?" resumed the nurse with a
cheerful, business-like gravity which was at once becoming and piquant.
"Stay here and talk; I like to hear your voice: and you look so cool and
pleasant."
Very few people could oppose this young man in any thing; he knew so
well what he wanted, and demanded it so uncompromisingly. But Sophie's
sense of fitness and propriety was as sound and impenetrable as adamant,
and scarcely to be affected by any human will or consideration. She felt
there was something not quite right in his manner and in the nature of
his demand; and, being in the habit of making people conform to her
ideas, rather than the reverse, she at once determined to correct him.
"If there's any thing you wish me to read to you, I'll do it. I didn't
come to sit down and talk to you; but, if you like my voice, you can
have more pleasure from it in that way."