"So did I," observed Kate.
I thought it was very easy for them, who were both handsome, to talk of sense to a poor plain girl.
"Is it possible," composedly continued Cornelius, "that you mind it? Now, if you find your nose a little damaged, for instance, will it affect you?"
"Indeed. Cornelius, I should not like it," was my dismayed reply.
"Would you not?"
"No, indeed; is there anything the matter with my nose?"
"Just give one good, courageous look, and see."
He took my hand, made me rise, and led me to the glass. In vain I turned away—he compelled me to look, and I saw my face—the same as ever; not handsomer, certainly, but not in the least disfigured. I turned to Cornelius, flushed and breathless with pleasure: he seemed to be enjoying my surprise.
"Ah! how uselessly we have frightened you!" he said, smiling, "but your face looked bad at first, and that wise doctor said it would remain thus. Kate and I have watched the change with great interest, but seeing how well you bore it, we resolved not to speak until you were once more metamorphosed into your former self. Confess the pleasure was worth the fright."
I glanced at the mirror, then at Cornelius, who stood with me on the hearth-rug, and with an odd, fluttering feeling, I observed—