"I've been all this time with Bressant," were her first words, spoken faintly, but with a quiet and serene assurance.
Cornelia made no answer; indeed, she could not speak. Strange and incomprehensible as Sophie's assertion was, she did not think of doubting but that in some way it must be true. Sophie continued:
"Before I went to sleep, I prayed God to send my spirit to him; and we have been together. Neelie, he is coming back!"
"Coming back! Sophie, coming back! For what?"
"Don't look so frightened, my darling. He will tell you why when he gets here. That will be to-morrow at noon."
"O Sophie! Sophie! the day and hour of your marriage!"
Cornelia sank upon her knees, and hid her face upon the edge of the bed. But Sophie let her hand wander over her head, with a soothing motion.
"No, dear; that's all over, Neelie dear, you know. Not the day and hour of my marriage any more. Neelie, I want to ask you something."
Cornelia lifted her head from the bedside; then, divining from Sophie's face, ere it was spoken, what her question was to be, faintness and terror seized upon her, and she clasped her hands over her eyes. The unexpectedness of Sophie's first awakening, and her subsequent strange speech concerning Bressant, had driven from Cornelia's head the matter which had monopolized her thoughts and fears before; and it now recurred to her with an effect almost as overwhelming as if the idea had been a new one.
"I couldn't do it," said she, huskily; "it seemed worse than killing myself. I believe it would have killed me to have stood before him, with his eyes upon my face, and have told him—told him—"