"O papa! do you really think marriage will help him to be greater and
better?"
"It's the only thing for him, my dear," said Professor Valeyon; and,
although he was looking his guilty little daughter straight in the face,
and at such short range, too, this would-be sharp-sighted old man of
wisdom never thought to ask himself why she blushed so. "As soon as he
gets well again, I must see to getting him somewhere where he can have a
chance to profit by what we have done for him."
"Papa," said Sophie, sitting up, and stroking the old gentleman's white
beard, "you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you think that to
love and to be loved will be good for him."
"So anxious to get rid of him, eh?"
"No; oh! papa, don't you see? it's because--because I never want to
get rid of him!" and Sophie, catching her father suddenly around the
neck, hid her face in his linen coat-collar.
The professor, his features discharged of all expression, sat
stone-still, looking straight before him. Had Death been embracing him,
instead of his daughter, he could hardly have been struck more
motionless. Existence, spiritual as well as physical, seemed for a space
to have come to a stand-still.
By-and-by, startled at his silence, Sophie raised her head and looked at
him with alarmed eyes. With an effort, he turned his face toward her,
and smiled as naturally as though his mouth had been frozen.
"I'm an old man, you see, my dear: a surprise like this makes me feel
it," he made shift to say, in an uncertain voice. "So--you're engaged to
each other?"
"We're waiting for you to say we may be, papa."
"It is right--it is just!" said the professor, solemnly, though still
with a sluggish utterance. "I sought to glorify God to the end of mine
own glorification, and lo! He hath taken from me my own heart's blood!"
Swept off his feet by the profundity of his emotion, the ministerial
form of speech, so long disused, rose naturally to the old man's lips.
But presently, the paralyzing effect of the shock beginning to wear off,
he drew a few long breaths, and found himself growing very hot. He took
out his handkerchief and wiped away the perspiration that had gathered
on his forehead. Then he took his little daughter strongly yet
tremblingly to his heart, and kissed her more than once.
"God bless you! my darling--my Sophie--you're my Sophie still, if you
are in love with that--great overgrown rascal. I'm a fool--an old fool!
Well--and how long has this been going on between you, my darling?"
Sophie's heart, which, in the passionate tumult of her recent interview
with her lover, had remained so steady and unfaltering, began now to
beat with such violence as to impede her utterance and visibly to shake
her. She was resolved to show herself to her father even as she was.